The Heart of Us, page 10
She slowly shakes her head in disbelief as I feel that humiliation all over again.
“Okay, you win. That is insane!” She gasps.
“Her husband was ready to murder me. Even though she was found not guilty, it turned their lives upside down. By the time it was over, the whole town knew what happened, and she ended up moving across the country. I'd apologized profusely, but the damage was done. I learned a valuable lesson—never write down your feelings,” I say with a chuckle.
“Or tell your sister you have a younger, single, good-looking boss. Always comes back to bite you in the ass.”
I arch a brow. “You think I'm good looking, huh?”
She rolls her eyes. “As if you didn't already know you are. I didn't say that was my type,” she retorts.
“How is it not? Well, that could explain some things, actually...” I taunt, nudging her shoulder.
“Oh, shush. Truthfully, who knows what my type is anymore.”
“With my luck, you’re into old guys who wear white New Balance sneakers with knee-high socks.”
Tatum laughs until tears roll down her cheeks.
“Thanks.”
“For what?” I ask.
“Easing my embarrassment. Not that I'm happy you went through that, but I appreciate you sharing it with me. Now I need to plot how to get Oakley back.”
“I'm sure you'll think of something.”
Moments later, the doorbell chimes, and this time, I know the package is mine since I actually checked the label.
“So that's from Tristan and Piper?” she asks as I set it on the coffee table.
“Yep.” I find an envelope with the instructions on top of a box and rip it open. I read the note aloud.
Easton, there are five gifts, and each one is numbered. You must open them in order, then read the second card last. Make sure Tatum records it all, then send it to me ASAP!
Love, the best sister-in-law you’ll ever have
“Her generation has to video everything, I swear,” Tatum says with a chuckle as I hand her my cell phone.
“She's not that much younger than me, but yeah. They came out of the womb with the ability to text before they could talk.”
“And go.” She points the lens toward me.
“Here's gift number one.” I hold it up, then unwrap it. “Ooh, a candle.” I smell it before placing it under Tatum's nose.
“Smells like baby powder or fresh linen,” she says, and I agree.
“Alright, gift number two is...” I tear the paper. It’s three gray beanies that have the word Buddies on them.
“Oh my gosh, those are cute!” Tatum gushes.
“They aren't the same size, though. These two are way too small. Unless one is meant for you?” I suggest, then hand it to her, but she shakes her head.
“Won't fit me either.”
“Huh, okay.” I set them down, then look for the third one.
I unwrap a small wooden music box. As soon as I open it, a lullaby plays.
“That's precious,” Tatum says softly.
It is, but what a strange thing to give a man. “Yeah.”
Next, I open a white stuffed bear with a little red heart on its tummy. “I'm starting to wonder if she was drunk when she put this together.”
Tatum giggles. “I think there's a theme.”
“Well, there’s only one left, so I guess I better figure it out.” I pull it out and unwrap some material. Holding it up, I stare at a heather gray shirt.
“Oh my gosh,” Tatum gasps, and I realize there's something on the other side. I flip it over and read it.
HUN-CLE: Like a normal uncle but way more good looking
“Wait...” I smirk, grabbing the second envelope like Piper demanded. Inside is a sonogram photo with small white text written on it. Hi, Uncle Easton! There are two of us!
“No way. Look!” I hand it to Tatum, and the wide smile she wore earlier drops.
“That's amazing. Congrats,” she says softly.
“So damn exciting, don't ya think?”
“Mm-hmm. Do you still want me to record?”
“Nah, I'll call them right now!” I look at the camera. “Very sneaky, you two!”
Tatum ends the video, then hands my phone back to me so I can FaceTime them. I click on Piper's name, and her face appears almost immediately.
“Did you open it?” she squeals.
“Yeah, you’re getting puppies, and I'm gonna be a dog-uncle! Double trouble!”
Tristan chuckles in the back as Piper glares at me. “My babies aren’t dogs, you jerk!”
“Oh c'mon, I'm just messing with you. I'm so happy for you guys! About time. I’ve been waiting to teach kids how to surf!”
“Yes, that's exactly why I got pregnant,” she deadpans.
“Do you know their genders yet?” I ask.
“Girls!” Piper responds immediately.
“You can't keep telling people that,” Tristan scolds, then looks at me. “We don't know yet.”
“My instincts say they’re girls, and they’re never wrong,” Piper declares. “Two sweet little angels that I'll get to put in cute pink dresses.”
“Oh hell no, you're not dressing my nieces like pageant queens.”
Piper narrows her eyes, then takes a piece of chocolate from an almost empty Dove bag.
“Excuse me, I'm the one pushing them out, so I will do whatever I want,” she demands.
I chuckle, knowing that's true. Piper has always danced to her own beat.
We chat and laugh for a few more minutes, and when I look over at Tatum, she's quiet and lost in her head. She chimed in to say hello and to congratulate them but hasn't engaged further.
“Alright, I'm gonna let you two go. Thanks for the fun package. I'm gonna wear that shirt proudly. Even on their wedding days.”
Tristan snorts. “If they’re even half as high maintenance as their mother, they won't allow that.”
“Hey!” Piper squeals. “That's not fair. No one would want their uncle to wear a T-shirt talking about how handsome he is on their wedding day.”
“Okay, I'll compromise. Just to the reception.”
Piper chuckles. “Let's discuss it in thirty years, okay?”
“Alright, deal.”
Before we say our goodbyes, Piper reminds me to send her the recording. As soon as we hang up, I text it to them both.
Tatum's demeanor is off, and I can't pinpoint what happened to upset her.
“Everything okay?” I ask, shifting closer to her.
She smiles, but it looks forced. “Absolutely! That's really exciting for them.”
“Yeah, considering my brother isn't getting any younger and Piper probably wants a dozen babies, they were bound to start having kids as soon as possible. Twins will keep them busy as fuck, though.”
“She's lucky. I struggled to get pregnant. It can mentally fuck you up as a woman.”
Wait, what?
“You did? I had no idea, Tatum. Was there nothing that could be done to help you?”
“I should rephrase that. I could get pregnant, but I struggled to keep the pregnancies. I miscarried. Over and over. It was frustrating and mentally exhausting.”
My heart squeezes at how sad she is right now. I can't even imagine what that was like or how it made her feel. “I'm so sorry.”
“I wasn't trying to make this about me. I’m sorry. It's just a trigger that still haunts me.”
I grab her hand. “Don't apologize. I’ll never understand how it felt to go through losses like that, but it doesn't mean you have to hold back. I can sympathize with how painful that must’ve been,” I tell her, not knowing much about pregnancy or babies but seeing the anguish written on her beautiful face.
“About ten years ago, I made it to the second trimester. I was so damn happy and followed the pregnancy books to a T. I was twenty-five weeks along when I lost him. They called it a stillbirth. I was devastated, and it was one of the darkest times of my life.”
I shake my head. “Do they know why?”
“No. It's rare, but it happens more often than most people realize. That was the first time Justin hit me.”
I blink. “What? He hit you after something so tragic happened?”
I must be hearing her wrong because what kind of man does this to his wife after losing a baby?
“He was upset and took out his anger on me. Of course, he apologized, but it was the start of my emotional spiral.”
I grind my teeth, shocked and pissed that Tatum went through a horrific experience with a shitty fucking partner.
“We stopped communicating. Instead of grieving together, he used me as a punching bag to relieve his stress, and the support I needed wasn't there. I was too ashamed to tell anyone because I thought he'd snap out of it. Then I blamed myself. If only I hadn't lost the baby, we'd be happy. If only I was a woman who could handle pregnancy, we'd have a family.”
I want to bash that motherfucker's face in the concrete.
“You're strong, Tatum. You went through something unimaginable and came out ahead.”
She scoffs. “I'm not sure that's true.”
I brush the hair off her face, then tilt up her chin to look at me. “It might not matter anymore, but in the event it does, you can open up to me about anything. Cry in my arms. Let it all out. Whatever you need, okay?” I give her a reassuring smile. “You deserved better. You shouldn't have had to deal with that mental warfare.”
“I think it would've been different if I’d had a support system, but I was already isolated from my friends and family. I hadn't noticed it at first, but then Justin told me I wasn't allowed to tell anyone. As if he was embarrassed I couldn’t carry full-term. Truthfully, I should've gone to counseling for my grief, but he refused to pay for it. Instead, I was expected to just pick up where I was before we lost him like nothing had happened.”
“He's a piece of shit, Tatum. You have no idea what I'd like to do to him.”
She wipes her cheeks after a couple of tears fall. “Trust me, a few horrible thoughts have crossed my mind, and I don’t even want to tell you what Oakley says about him. It took a few years after that to realize he was a narcissist. So many ups and downs, controlling and manipulative behaviors, and me being naïve by thinking he'd eventually change.”
I want to hold her tight right now.
“But Easton, I'm sorry to be a Debby Downer. I don't want to take away from your amazing news. I’m really excited for you and your family.”
“I'm not upset, Tatum. I mean, I am, but not about that. I wish I could’ve been there for you, that’s all.”
She nods, choking back more tears. “Thank you. I need to freshen up. I'll be back in a bit.”
“Take your time. I'll be here.” I shoot her a wink, and she blushes.
“I appreciate everything you do for me. Whoever you end up marrying one day will be one lucky woman.”
CHAPTER TEN
TATUM
DAY 13
I wake up with a heaviness on my heart. I hated the way I reacted yesterday during Piper’s twin pregnancy announcement, but it brought back way too many painful memories. A future I should’ve had but was stolen from me. When I think about my loss, there’s an emptiness rooted deep inside. Sometimes, I wonder what my life would be like if the pregnancies had gone full-term. If I’d have a loving husband and a house filled with happy children, or if Justin would’ve still been a controlling asshole. All I can do is push the thoughts away because none of that happened, and it’s not the reality I get to live.
When I was a little girl, I didn’t dream of a big wedding or a huge house. I imagined having kids of my own. It’s all I ever wanted. A few tears spill down my cheeks, and I hurry to push them away. There’s too much sadness, hurt, and anger, and I try to forget what happened time and again, though I know those memories will live with me forever.
Once I’m settled and free from Justin again, I’m going to search for a therapist in the area. Someone who deals with miscarriages, grief, and manipulative exes who weaponized my losses. I know I need help. I haven’t been away from him long enough to be able to fully heal, and just when things were looking up, Justin came back to remind me that he’s always been in control and still is.
He disgusts me.
After I’ve cried some more in the bathroom, I splash water on my face, then try to gain control. Once I’ve calmed down, I go downstairs, where Easton is sipping a cup of coffee. I make a mug and sit next to him. He meets my eyes, and I know he knows I’ve been crying but doesn’t mention it.
“What do you want to do today? It’s your turn to decide. The world is your oyster,” he says.
“Hmm.” I tap my index finger against my lip. “There’s one thing that I’ve been wanting to do ever since I was a little girl.”
Easton tilts his head at me. “Guess it’s time to make your dreams come true.”
I laugh. “I didn’t tell you what it was yet! I could say skydiving or bungee jumping.”
“I’m game. Don’t even have to think twice about it.”
“This is why I enjoy spending time with you. There’s something about an adventurous man…”
A brow pops up. “Yeah? You find that hot?”
I snort. “It’s a good characteristic to have.”
He’s grinning. “So what is it? You want to find grizzly bears? Go to Greenland? Climb Mt. Everest?”
“Collect seashells.”
His smile softens. “That’s it? Guess today’s your lucky day. The tide is going out soon, and that’s the best time to go hunting.”
“Really? I didn’t know there was a schedule for this.”
He finishes his cup. “Yeah, high tide brings in the best shells, so you go look around when it’s low. After a storm is the absolute best!”
“How do you know all this?” I finish my last sip and grab a yogurt from the fridge.
“Every Easter, we’d celebrate by finding eggs and hunting for seashells. It was a nice memory. Mom loved collecting them. Next time we’re in the garage, I’ll have to show you the ones we've saved over the years.”
“That sounds amazing. I would’ve been in heaven.”
Easton checks the time on his phone. “Go change, and let’s go before it gets too hot. I’ll grab the sunscreen. Don’t want a repeat of last time.”
I chuckle, excited as I finish eating. Once I’m done, I rush upstairs to change into the bikini Easton got me and slip on some cutoffs. Before I walk out, I take a quick glance at myself in the mirror, then throw my hair up into a high ponytail.
He’s waiting for me with two sand pails in his hands. “This one’s for you, milady.”
“Appreciate it,” I say, and we make our way to the beach. The sun hangs lazy on the horizon, and I can never get enough of this view.
Easton walks close beside me as we make our way to the shore. There are a few runners out, which is typical in the mornings, but for the most part, the beach is deserted.
“Sunscreen,” he reminds, then squirts some in my hand. I cover my arms and stomach, then grab the bottle so I can do my legs.
“Want help with your back?” he asks.
I smile. “That would be awesome.”
Easton rubs the lotion in his palms to warm it up, then massages it into my skin. He takes his time, making sure he touches every inch, and I can’t help the heat that rushes through me. As he kneads my shoulders, my breath hitches, and I’m thankful he can’t see my face.
When Easton speaks up, his voice is thick and gravelly. “You’re tense.”
“I could use a good massage,” I admit, but it comes out in a hoarse whisper. I love his strong hands on me and how my body reacts to him, but it also scares the shit out of me. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt anything like this before, regardless of this being innocent.
When he pulls away, I immediately feel the loss. I turn, meet his eyes, and see something swirling behind his gaze.
“You need some help too?” I ask, wanting to return the favor.
“Yeah.” He hands over the bottle. Then I take my time touching him. His muscles flex, and I can’t help but admire how they cascade down his back. Freckles sprinkle across his shoulders, and I’m tempted to trace them with my fingers. I’m breathless, trying to calm my racing heart as he lets out a hum.
Does he feel the same things I do? Or is it all in my imagination?
When I pull away, Easton turns, and our eyes lock. He swallows hard, clears his throat, then thanks me.
“No problem,” I say, trying to find my words. He puts the sunscreen in his bucket and leads me closer to the water.
“This is where you have to look,” he says, bending down and picking up a shell that’s long and twisted.
“Wow, this one’s neat.” I study its texture. “I’m so excited.”
I let the wet sand squish between my toes, and when I look back, I can see our footprints in the sand. We’re quiet as we collect beautiful shells in different shapes and sizes. I try to be selective with the ones I take because I’m too tempted to pick up every single one I see.
“Check this out,” he says. Walking closer to me, he’s holding something that’s lime green.
He places it in the palm of my hand, grinning wide.
“Oh, what is this?” I turn it around and hold it up in the sunlight, where it nearly glows.
“It’s sea glass. You can find different colors, and people collect it like crazy. I’ll have to show you some of the amazing art made from it.”
