A Forever Kind of Love, page 17
“This is wonderful,” one of the tourism board members remarked.
“The attention to detail is absolutely outstanding,” another said.
“Yes, it is, isn’t it?” Mya said. She needed to cut this short. From the look on Corey’s face, he needed her.
She pasted on another smile for the officials. Taking a deep breath, Mya went in for the kill, reciting the spiel she’d practiced last night. Painting Gauthier as a picture of Southern charm and small-town life, she pleaded with the board to find the town a worthy candidate for marketing Louisiana’s rich culture and history to tourists.
Gesturing to the grounds, Mya finished, “I invite you all to explore everything our town has to offer. Sample the food, get to know the residents. I’m sure you will come to love it as much as everyone in Gauthier does.”
She shook the hand of each board member, letting out a much-needed sigh of relief as the seven-member group headed toward the festivities on the other end of the park.
“Thank goodness that’s over,” Mya said.
“You did wonderfully,” Carmen said. “They looked very impressed.”
“I think so, too.” Mya grinned. She turned to Corey, who had stopped just to the right of the gazebo steps. “I could have used a little help from you,” she said. “Where have you been?”
He stared at her for several long moments without saying a word, and when he did speak, it was in a voice so soft, so low and deadly, Mya’s skin iced.
“Carmen, can you excuse us for a minute?” he asked.
“Sure.” Carmen looked from Mya to Corey. “Is everything okay?”
“We’re fine,” he said.
A bigger lie had never been told. Mya knew him well enough to know that everything was definitely not fine.
She waited until Carmen was well out of hearing distance before she asked, “Corey, what’s going on with you? Is everything all right with Andre?”
He didn’t say anything, just grabbed her by the arm and yanked her down the gazebo’s two steps. He marched them behind the structure, past the last of the park benches and into the heavily shaded area of the park that had yet to be cleared by volunteers. It was still thick with dank vegetation and as private as one could get while still in the open park area.
Mya tried to pull away from him, but his grip was tight, biting into her skin.
“Dammit, let me go,” she said with a vicious jerk, finally breaking free. “What is the matter with you?”
She rubbed her arm where marks from his fingers had already colored her skin.
“You got something you want to tell me?” he asked.
Mya recoiled at the fury in his tone. “Corey, what are you talking about?” she asked, her own rage escalating at his unwarranted attack.
“You know, Mya, I’ve been teaching high school kids for a few years now. I know how crazy things can get at the end of the year. Everybody is thinking about prom, graduation, leaving for college. I get it. But one would think that being pregnant and having a miscarriage wouldn’t just slip your mind.”
Mya’s entire body stiffened in shock. Panic twisted around her heart, threading through her bloodstream as reality slammed into her.
Her fifteen-year reprieve was over. The secret was out, laid bare before her.
“I mean, come on,” Corey continued with false nonchalance. “You were in the hospital for two days. I remember because I spent every free minute sitting next to your bed. You never once thought that maybe I should know you’d just lost my baby, Mya? Or maybe that stomach virus had you so sick, you just couldn’t think straight. Was that it?”
Her eyelids slid shut as instant tears streamed down her cheeks. She knew this would eventually come to light, but she had wanted to be the one to tell him.
“I was going to tell you,” she started.
“When?” he bit out, his mock casualness replaced with stinging fury. “It’s been fifteen years. What, was it never the right time? What was it, Mya?”
She held her hands out, pleading. “You don’t understand. That baby represented everything I had feared would happen to me, Corey. Look at what happened to Shelly Hunt and Brandy Thomas. They both got pregnant young, and they both got stuck in Gauthier. As horrible as it was to lose that baby, it turned out to be a blessing,” she said.
Corey flinched. A mixture of hurt and anger encompassed his face, but Mya soldiered on.
“I wasn’t ready to be a mother any more than you were ready to be a father. I wanted more for myself,” she stressed. “I wanted more than this town could provide, and when I got pregnant, I saw all my dreams slipping away.”
“It still doesn’t explain why you never told me about the baby,” he seethed.
“What could you have done, Corey? You were on your way to Arizona State. If I had had that baby, I would have been the one stuck here to raise it. Or worse, I would have pulled an Elizabeth Dubois and left it here for Grandma or Aunt Mo to raise. I refused to allow that to happen.”
“Well, I guess that miscarriage was pretty convenient.” His stare intensified, his brow creasing into a deep V. “Tell me something, Mya, was it really a miscarriage or did you assist in destroying my baby?”
Mya pulled in a swift gasp. “Are you asking me if I had an abortion?”
He shrugged. “It’s a valid question, especially after you just admitted that you were happy you lost my baby. How do I know you didn’t get rid of it on purpose?”
“I had a miscarriage,” she asserted, “and I never said I was happy. Losing that baby was one of the hardest things I’ve ever gone through.”
Mya wrapped her arms around her upper body, fearing if she let go, she would crack into a million pieces.
“Corey, please listen to me. I’m sorry I kept this from you for so long. I was scared back then. I thought if I told you about the baby, you would have insisted on something crazy, like us getting married or some other noble nonsense. You were so hell-bent on doing the right thing so you could prove you were better than your two brothers.”
“And the thought of marrying me just scared the hell out you,” he stated.
“We were seventeen!” Mya practically screamed. “Of course it scared me. Everything scared me. I wanted out, Corey. And when I found out I was pregnant, I felt trapped. So maybe you’re right. Maybe I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to be tied to you. Because you were tied to Gauthier. You still are.”
“And you still want out,” he said. “Like mother, like daughter.”
The look in his eyes was deadly enough to kill, pure venom, and leveled squarely at her.
“Corey, don’t do this,” Mya pleaded.
But he’d already done it. She witnessed the moment the shield went up. He’d cut her out.
Out of his life.
Out of his heart.
Without another word, he turned and walked away.
Mya lowered herself to the damp ground, her knees cushioned by the uncut grass. But nothing could soften the pain that racked her body. She covered her face with her hands and sobbed until her entire being shook with it.
Corey gripped the SUV’s steering wheel so tight his fingers cramped in protest. He couldn’t decide what pissed him off more, Mya or his own conscience, which had been niggling at him since the moment he walked away from her.
Why in the hell should he be concerned about her feelings? She’d just admitted to being relieved that she’d lost his child—a child she’d never bothered to tell him about.
Corey gripped the wheel even tighter, his knuckles white underneath his skin. If he moved his hands, he was liable to punch his fist through the window. And he sure as hell didn’t need a broken window heaped onto the rest of his problems.
Fifteen years. She’d lied to him for fifteen years.
Her excuses weren’t worth a damn in his book. She’d been afraid. He’d give her that one. If she had told him about the baby back when they were in high school, he would have been scared, too. Terrified. Neither of them had been in the position to become parents back then. But why in the hell didn’t she tell him about the baby after she’d miscarried?
She said she was afraid he’d try to do the honorable thing and marry her. Well, what in the hell was so wrong with that? Back then, before he’d had that monumental slip in judgment and cheated on her, Corey had thought they were heading for marriage. He had not contemplated a life without Mya.
But she had been just fine getting on with her life. Without him. Without their baby. The truth bore down on Corey like an avalanche racing down a mountainside, smothering every sympathetic feeling toward Mya in its path.
She saw him as nothing but an anchor, weighing her down, tying her to this place that she’d continuously sought to break free of. It was the reason she’d run from him years ago. It was the reason she was running now.
Corey slammed his fists against the steering wheel, then jerked the keys out of the ignition. He got out of the truck and stalked into his house, slamming the door so hard the window rattled.
He walked into the living room and spotted Andre lounging on the sofa, a handheld gaming device balanced in his lap. In a few hours the boy had made himself at home. Their new living arrangement was temporary, but being able to keep tabs on Andre gave Corey peace of mind he was sorely lacking in every other aspect of his life right now.
Andre looked up from his game. “You okay, Coach?”
“I’m perfect,” Corey lied. “How does pizza sound for dinner?”
Andre gave him a thumbs-up. Corey went into the kitchen and called Gauthier’s sole pizza restaurant, amazed at how something as mundane as ordering dinner could help soothe his frayed state of mind. It was the first step in getting on with his life.
If Mya was so anxious to get back to her life, then it was something he’d just have to deal with. She wanted out? Fine. He was letting her go.
Chapter 15
Mya stuffed the two remaining bars of lemon verbena soap into her suitcase and zipped it up. She cast a final, lingering look around the room, making sure she wasn’t forgetting anything.
“Mya, you’re going to miss your flight if you don’t hurry up.”
“I’m coming, Aunt Mo,” she called out. She pulled the carry-on bag’s thick strap over one shoulder and wheeled the small suitcase she’d borrowed from Phylicia to pack the clothes she’d purchased for her extended stay in Gauthier.
When she walked into the living room, Mya’s throat seized at the crestfallen look on her grandmother’s face as she sat in Granddad’s old chair.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she pleaded. “I told you I’ll be back in a few months.”
“What happened with you and Corey?” her grandmother asked, getting right to the heart of it. “You two had been getting along so well. I was so sure he could convince you to stay.”
Mya gave her a sad smile. “Corey doesn’t want me in Gauthier,” she said.
Corey probably never wanted to see her again. She tried to stave off the rush of pain that thought produced, but it was pointless. The crushing ache permeated every corner of her heart.
Her grandmother captured her hand and squeezed it. “What happened between you two, Mya? Why wouldn’t Corey want you in Gauthier?”
Sorrow clogged her throat. “There was just too much in our past to overcome.”
“But—”
“It’s better this way, Grandma,” Mya said, cutting off her protest. “Corey and I just were not meant to be.” She sucked in a lungful of air as she turned to her aunt. “You ready to hit the road?”
“Just waiting on you,” Aunt Mo replied.
Mya stooped down and enveloped her grandmother in a hug, clinging to her for dear life. “Stay away from the sweets,” she warned. “I expect to see both you and this town thriving when I come back for your birthday in a few months.”
“We will be.” Her grandmother patted her back. “Go on now. If you’re so damned determined to leave, you better get going before you miss your plane.”
“Mama, stop that cursing!” Maureen admonished her.
Mya choked out a teary laugh. She gave her grandmother one last kiss on the cheek before retrieving her bags and walking through the door Aunt Mo held open for her. She slipped into the passenger seat and fought like mad to keep her tears at bay. It was a valiant fight, but one Mya doubted she’d win. Her throat tightened with every inch of gravel the tires ate up as they backed out of the yard.
“So,” Aunt Mo said after a few minutes on the road, “what did happen between you and Corey?”
Mya pressed her head against the headrest and closed her eyes. “You don’t want to know.”
“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to know,” her aunt returned.
Massaging her brow to ward off the headache that was threatening to attack her, Mya expelled a sigh and said, “He found out about the baby. About the miscarriage. You didn’t tell him, did you?”
“Nope,” was her aunt’s response.
Mya looked at her. “Is that all you have to say?”
“Am I supposed to say anything else?” Maureen asked. “I wasn’t allowed to say anything fifteen years ago, back when you lost the baby. You begged me to keep quiet.”
Mya twisted in the passenger seat to stare at her aunt. “Are you saying I should have told him then?”
“Of course you should have,” Aunt Mo said, as if they were talking about telling Corey that Mya had ruined his favorite shirt.
Mya threw both hands in the air. “You tell me this now? Fifteen years later? Why didn’t you say it back then, Mo?”
Without warning, her aunt jerked the wheel to the side, sending the car careening onto the road’s dusty shoulder. She cut the engine, then turned to Mya.
“You may not want to hear this, but you are Elizabeth’s daughter through and through. You are as stubborn and as selfish as your mother. And just like her, you think making it out of Gauthier makes you better than everyone else.”
“That’s not true,” Mya gasped, hurt and shock volleying against the walls of her chest at her aunt’s unexpected attack.
“Oh, yes it is,” Maureen insisted. “All you could ever talk about was getting out of this town. You were going to travel the world, then head to New York and become a big-name fashion designer. That didn’t pan out the way you thought it would, did it? Maybe it wasn’t this town that was holding you back, Mya. Maybe it was your small-mindedness.”
Mya flinched as the words her aunt hurled at her hit like a bullwhip. She covered her face with her hands, the tears cascading down her cheeks like an uncontrollable waterfall.
“I thought you were proud of me,” she choked out.
“I am proud of you,” Maureen said. “But I wasn’t proud of the way you left. Or how you stayed away all these years.”
Her aunt captured her left wrist and tugged until Mya pulled her hand away from her face. She cupped her chin and gently urged Mya to look up.
“You know I have always loved you as if you were my own child. And I swear, Mya, you could get away with just about anything before I get angry with you.” Maureen lifted her chin up a bit more and stared at her, understanding shining in her eyes. “But you owed it to Corey to tell him about the baby after you lost it.”
“I was scared,” Mya whispered.
“I know you were,” her aunt said, finally letting go of Mya’s face. “Maybe I should have pushed you a little harder to tell him. It’s bothered me all these years.”
“I never should have come back here,” Mya said.
“Dammit!” Maureen slammed her hands on the steering wheel. “Mya Eloise Dubois, how hardheaded can you be?”
“What?” Mya yelled.
“You never should have left,” her aunt stated. “Not the way you did. And you shouldn’t have stayed away this long. That’s the point I’m trying to make. This is your home. The people here…we are your home. Stop running, Mya. You’re better than that.”
Mya swiped at the tears still flowing down her cheeks.
Her aunt was right. This town, these people—they embodied every notion of home she’d ever had. Despite how much she had grown to love New York, if she was being honest with herself, Mya could admit that something had always been missing. She had found that missing piece the minute she’d set foot in Gauthier again. She’d found it when Corey Anderson approached her at her grandfather’s funeral and reminded her of everything she’d given up when she ran from Gauthier all those years ago.
She didn’t want to run anymore. She wanted that sense of home forever. And she wanted it with Corey.
“Aunt Mo.” Mya sniffed. “Can you turn around? I need you to bring me somewhere.”
“Depends on where I’m bringing you,” Maureen said, turning over the ignition.
Mya looked over at her. “I think you know.”
Corey pushed the lawn mower across grass he’d already cut. Not that it mattered. He was trimming a lawn he hadn’t been asked to trim. He’d hoped focusing on his neighbor’s lawn would prevent him from gazing up at the sky and wondering if every airplane that flew overhead was the one taking Mya back to New York. So far it wasn’t working.
He’d had to stop himself from driving over to the Dubois house twice last night, then again this morning.
What in the hell was wrong with him? How could he even think about running to her after the lies she’d told, the secrets she’d held?
The woman had kept knowledge of their baby from him. They’d created a life together. The fact that the baby had not made it shouldn’t have any bearing on the situation. He’d had a right to know.
Had it been a boy or a girl? He wondered if Mya even knew. Corey doubted he’d ever find out.
His palms clenched tightly around the lawn mower handle as an overwhelming fury tore through him. As quickly as it came, his anger started to abate. His rage was warranted, but what good would it do if he allowed it to consume him?
He’d expected Mya to forgive him for the mistakes he’d made back when they were teenagers. How much of a hypocrite would it make him if he could not forgive her? She had been a frightened seventeen-year-old girl who had just caught the father of the unborn child she lost having sex with another girl. How could he blame her for running and never looking back?
