“My Luna, please, open the door.” I heard a thump against the door and could only assume Ridley had his forehead pressed to it. I whimpered at his use of my nickname and collapsed to the floor on my hands and knees.
Blood. So much blood. I couldn’t let him see me like this. He would despise me for not telling him. His baby was dying inside of me, and he didn’t even know.
“I can’t!” I cried out, holding my abdomen with one arm while I reached for the sink with the other. As if somehow wrapping my arm around myself would stop all this from happening and keep the life growing inside me. I knew there was nothing I could do, nothing to stop what was happening. I gave up. I sat on the floor in my own blood, and sobbed helplessly. I could hear Ridley pleading, the defeat in his voice, the fear of not knowing what was going on. I wanted to open the door, but I couldn’t. I wouldn’t.
“Damn it, Brea, I’m coming in!” I heard Ridley shout. I could hear him banging against the door. The sound of his body colliding with wood—the cracking and splintering, until finally I heard him gasp at the sight of me. The sound of the door slamming against the bathroom wall only made me cry harder.
“God, Luna. Brea, baby,” his voice cracked. I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. This was all my fault. I didn’t want a baby. Not yet, at least. But . . . it was ours. Our baby, and I wished him or her away because I was selfish.
I looked up at him, my vision blurred by the steady stream of tears and only remembered saying two words, “The baby.” Ridley scooped me in his arms, his own cries mingled with my own, before it all became too much.
“I’ve got you, Angel,” he whispered into my damp hair as darkness blanketed my vision.
I blink rapidly, wiping away my tears as the memory fades . . . well, not fades. I don’t think I will ever be able to let the memory go with ease, but I push it down deeply and try not to remember one of the worst nights of my life.
I know now there was nothing I could have done to stop the miscarriage from happening. If Ridley hadn’t basically broken the door down to get to me, I could have died from the blood loss. Turns out I had an ectopic pregnancy, and because I hadn’t gone to the doctor yet, I had no clue, and it ruptured. I couldhave died. Ridley saved me and we never told anyone. It’s a secret only he and I hold close to our hearts. My near brush with death, the baby, our loss. It was too painful to share with our friends and family. It was the beginning of the end for us. I own up to the part I played in our ultimate demise. Ridley didn’t stand a chance.
Despite what the rumor mill conjured up, I didn’t walk away from Ridley when he proposed. He and I had been engaged months prior to it being announced. It was his agent, Hazel, who wanted to wait to take it public. Unfortunately, by the time things were set in motion for the big reveal, I couldn’t go through with it anymore. After all the pain and loss, I chose me. The press ate it up, deeming me heartless and selfish for breaking the heart of one of their beloved hockey players. Ridley Masters, one of the greats, jilted by his fiancée before even walking down the aisle. Yep, that’s me, Brea Brookes, the heartless, selfish, career-driven bitch who ruined the best thing that ever happened to me. Not my words, but the words of many bloggers, news reporters, and haters of all things me after the fact.
Wiping away the last of my tears, I start my jeep and pull away from the cove. I can’t afford to wallow in my sorrow and grief any longer. The threat of drowning is too tempting. I have a performance to prepare for. Performing is like breathing, it takes away my pain, helps me forget, for at least a little while. Besides, this is what I wanted. This is what all my sacrifice has been about.
As I make my way toward Red’s, I remind myself that this is exactly where I’m supposed to be. I don’t think about Ridley and his baby news for the rest of the day. Tonight, I will sing my heart out, bleed for all of Lark Bay, and leave my tattered heart on stage.
Living for the moment is easy, and for now, it’s enough.
FIVE
RIDLEY
I’ve always had a love for small towns. They’re like little treasures hiding in plain sight, waiting to be discovered—each one is unique, in the way that gemstones are different shapes, sizes, and colors, but made of the same materials. Common components that create the whole, naturally designed and molded by the environment and the people who dwell within it. Take a drive with no plan in mind, and you never know what wonders you may find just around the corner. My parents instilled in me a sense of adventure. They would pile Lia and me into the car and we would spend the day getting lost. They are among my fondest memories, and I cling to them when missing my parents gets too hard. Despite the news from this morning, I can’t help the thrill I feel when the welcome sign comes into view. The smell of the ocean, mixed with the scent of spruce and pine trees, brings a nostalgic smile to my face. Lark Bay is a mix of New England charm, with Mediterranean flare, nestled beside the Pacific coast. It’s a hodgepodge place of hometown America and a European holiday all in one.
When Tor first mentioned his visit to Lark Bay years ago, I had to see it for myself. You wouldn’t think a town like this would have such economic disparity. The cookie cutter Main Street with its independently owned boutiques, coffee shops, and general stores only hide the neighborhood trailer parks and homes in need of some tender love and care. In stark contrast are the homes built high up on the side of the mountain in the gated community above the town. Like I said, this place is unique, full of the haves and the have nots. Despite that, it’s peaceful, a town where everyone greets you with a smile and, blissfully, no paparazzi in sight.
I owe Tor and Alexis one hell of a wedding present. Covering for him this summer is exactly what I need. The hockey camp will keep me busy and keep my mind off what’s happening in the city. I don’t want to dwell on the fact that there is a possibility I may be someone’s baby daddy. Ugh, okay not that term, someone’s sperm donor? Nope. That’s not it either.
I’ve always wanted kids, but when the time is right. But what is it they say? There is never a right time. I still have plenty of years left in my hockey contract and I don’t want the woman I love to have to raise our children on her own while I am on the road six to seven months out of the year. Brea and I?—
As if on autopilot I allow my thoughts to drift elsewhere. I don’t want to think about Brea and how my news that someone is pregnant with my child will affect her. Not after what happened to her—to us. No matter what transpired between us in the end, it was a shared trauma that will never truly heal. God, I wish I could keep the gossip from her, but everything I do is public knowledge. This will hurt her. It’s the last thing I want to do. How will I ever get her back when there’s a constant reminder of why she walked away in the first place? My career, our time apart, my lack of support because of hockey, and then the loss we suffered, it will never go away. Maybe there is no wayback for us. She is exactly where she wants to be. I’m so proud of her. She’s happy, and honestly, that’s all I ever wanted for my Luna. My moon, my ebb and flow, my everything. I didn’t intend to hold her back and don’t plan on doing it again. This is for the best Ridley, just let her go.
My phone rings, pulling me from my thoughts as I stop at a light in the middle of Main Street. I can smell the coffee from Charlie’s and the sweet baked goods from Dulce’s. The sight of The Flying Saucer, the fifties style diner, has my stomach growling. Ignoring my need for sustenance, I call out to answer.
“Talk,” I say as the light turns green and I leave Main Street behind. I don’t need to stop by the community center today, but I’m an eager beaver and head in that direction.
“Where are you, Rid?” Lia’s concerned tone makes me want to slap my forehead. We always keep each other informed of our whereabouts, and I totally fucked up. If the shoe was on the other foot, I would have found a way to put out an APB to find her. Okay, not to arrest her, but I think my twenty-five-year-old sister is too old for an amber alert. In conclusion, I should expect nothing less from her by the sound of her frantic voice.
“I’m sorry, Li. Everything happened so fast this morning after you sent me the podcast clip. Hazel told me to basically lay low, then Tor called and asked me to cover his hockey camp,” I sigh. “Now, I’m in Lark Bay.”
Lia coughs and I hear a muffled voice asking if she’s okay. Wait, is that?—
“Did you say Lark Bay? I thought Alexis and Tor were heading that way tomorrow. No one told me there was a change of plan. That’s the last place you need to be, Rid,” Lia says, sounding confused, and I don’t miss the panic in her voice.
I lift my brow as the community center comes into view. “Wait. Why is this the last place I should be? Li, what am I missing? It’s far away enough to stay out of the way while Hazelsorts all this baby mama shit. Plus, it will give me something to do, and hello, it’s hockey,” I reply, adding a little humor at the end to lighten the mood. I really am looking forward to meeting the kids out on the ice this week.
“Nothing. You’re not missing anything. I’m just shocked you’re back there after all this time. I . . . I,” There is more muffled conversation. If I know Lia, instead of pushing mute she has her hand over her phone, like that would stop me from hearing who she is talking to. I can hear my teammate’s voice loud and clear. Devan doesn’t know how to whisper. I chuckle to myself, my smile wide as I roll my eyes. Is she trying to hide him?
“Devan’s there?” I ask, voice stern, dad-like, he would be proud at how well I’ve mastered it. I almost laugh, I already know the answer before she says anything. The line goes quiet, and I can’t help but shake my head. I can imagine the look of surprise on both their faces. I’m not blind. I’ve noticed how much time Devan and Lia have spent together over the past few months. Since her birthday they’ve been hanging out even more than usual. He’s always looked out for my baby sister, and I am grateful for it. Lia has never shown any interest in any of my teammates, and my teammates know my baby sister is off limits. But Devan and Lia are good friends, and as much as I would like it to stay that way, I can tell there is more there. No, I’m not going to be the asshole and demand he keeps his distance and stay away from my sister. Lia is not a child, she can take care of herself.
“What? Devan. Yeah, he’s here,” she hesitates, and I bite back a laugh. Yeah, I shouldn’t torture my sister, but hey, what are big brothers for?