Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 98485 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98485 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
He nods. He’s not the friendliest of guys, but I think he might have noticed my stomach pooch and the loose blouse I have over it, and few men are so low as to bail on a pregnant woman. Score one for playing the pregnancy card.
The second I reach the edge of the cemetery, where Jonathan’s grave is, I kick my old flowers out of the way. I’ve never come empty-handed to this place before, but I want him to understand.
“Liar,” I hiss.
The grave is silent, but around me, the wind picks up. It’s not a confirmation that he’s listening, but I don’t need that.
I know Alec was telling the truth. After I went back to my old apartment, I called around, to different people I knew from high school, and heard the worst things. Apparently, he got around. I called Carlina Smith, who told me that yes, he’d dated a few of her friends on the cheerleading squad while he was going out with me. I called Tori Meltz, who I wasn’t even friends with, and she confirmed that yes, she and Jonathan had been seeing each other behind my back. For months. Then I called Martina Abbot, who was the closest thing I’d had to a female friend in school—she and I were in stiff competition for valedictorian—and she said to me, “Sure, everyone knew. But none of us wanted to tell you, because you looked so happy.”
Every piece of information I added to the pile only made it more and more obvious what a sham our three-year relationship was … and what an idiot I was. And no one in my orbit cared enough about me to tell me the truth.
I was oblivious then. I wanted so badly to believe that someone could love me, I missed all the red flags. I also missed the signs that were right there in front of my face.
The signs that yes … all this time, Alec loved me. He has always loved me, and that’s not going away.
“Here’s the thing, Jonathan,” I say, crouching down so he can hear me. “I will always care about you and be sorry for what happened to you. But I’m pissed at what you did, and what everyone did to try to protect me. I wish someone had told me instead of running away from the truth. Because if they had … maybe I would have realized who really loved me. You said you were that person. You said you loved me … but the way you acted shows you didn’t. Not really.”
The wind picks up even more, and I feel like that’s enough of an answer.
“Alec … all that time, he said he hated me. But the way he acted to me, when it was just the two of us, alone …” I smile. “I know he loves me. And I love him. More than anything. I have always loved him, and now I don’t need to deny it anymore.”
As I turn back to the car that’s waiting for me, I wonder if this will be my last visit to this cemetery. I won’t forget Jonathan. That’s not possible. But sometimes, you have to let go.
And I feel like I have.
I climb into the back of the car and fold my hands over my belly. “Thank you for waiting. You can take me back home.”
We bounce over the rutted road for a bit, and I have to clutch the door handle to keep from jostling about too much. It’s when the driver reaches the main road that I feel a sharp cramp in my lower belly.
I take a deep breath, telling myself it was nothing.
But then it comes again. I grab my phone and text Alec.
Stassi: I’m sure it’s nothing, but I felt some weird cramps.
He responds almost instantly.
Alec: Come to the hospital ASAP. I’m in the ER. I’ll meet you.
I frown. The ER? That’s a bit overreactive. But then the cramp comes again, harder and more insistent.
Stassi: Are you sure? I should probably call my doc.
Alec: I’ll call her. You get over here, now. Please.
Sucking in a breath, I look up at the driver. “Change of plans. Could I ask you to take me to the hospital?”
38
Alec
I’m waiting by the sliding doors at the front of the hospital when she comes in, a wheelchair at the ready.
She looks all right, just hunched a bit, a hand over her stomach. But I’m taking no chances. “Here. Sit down,” I tell her, helping her into the chair. “What’s the pain like?”
“I told you, it’s just a little cramp, I think. Is this really necessary?”
I nod. “Dr. Freeman is on her way. In the meantime, Dr. Patel and Lily, the best nurse in the state, are ready to help you.”
“Oh my gosh. You’re overreacting,” she says, but I can tell she’s nervous by the way she grips the arms of the chair.