Page 49 of Written in the Charts

“It’s a good thing I’m already knocked up or you’d be in trouble.” I snickered and looked up at my hands. “Little help?”

Evan untied me and took his shirt back, collecting his clothes. We dressed quickly. Despite the heat on in the barn, it was still quite cold in there. We’d no more than finished putting our coats back on and embraced when Derek and Maggie walked in, cups of hot cocoa in their hands. Maggie had a baby monitor hanging around her wrist. They had to have heard us fucking. I could tell by the wry smile Derek gave Evan.

“So, is the war over?” Maggie asked, handing me a cup of cocoa.

“I think so.” I accepted the cocoa and sipped it, grateful for the added warmth after being chilled down so much.

“We’ll make it,” Evan added, kissing my forehead.

I felt better about things, but I knew we still had a way to go before things were back to normal. I was just glad this entire evening worked out the way Maggie had hoped it would and not how I feared it would.

CHAPTERTHIRTY-FIVE

Evan

Six p.m. for the fourth day in a row, and Gypsy was not at home or picking up her phone. Frustrated did not even begin to describe how I felt about it. Every time I asked her about what she was doing, she told me she was studying, but she studied at home, and she was never there. I sat outside her apartment, waiting, hoping she’d show up any minute, but the wait was worthless.

Frustrated, I called her number, and it went straight to voicemail. “Gypsy, I’m here at your place waiting. I thought you were studying. I brought some donuts for you and the baby, thinking maybe it would help. I wanted to study with you, you know, learn anatomy.” I tried to keep my voice light and happy. I knew how stressed she’d been about her studies, especially with the mid-semester break coming up.

“Hey, call me, okay? I’ll come over and we’ll hang out.”

I hung up, not really believing for a second that she was going to call me. She hadn’t done more than send a few messages before bed all week. I’d have thought after our breakup that she’d have been more receptive to my attention, but maybe I was wrong.

Sighing, I put my car in drive and pulled out, heading home. I didn’t know what to think because if it were me, I’d have wanted her to come to my aid, helping me relax and study as much as possible. But she wasn’t me, and I’d neglected her for two months, so I had to give her space. In that two months, she’d likely formed new study habits to break the monotony. Maybe she was at the library or had joined a study group.

For good measure, I drove past the campus, seeing it pretty dead. There were a few cars in the parking lot, but no lights shone out of the windows of the school. It looked locked up. Then a thought occurred to me that maybe she was studying at the office, so I headed that way. When I rounded the corner and pulled into the parking lot, the first thing I saw was her car parked in the far corner where it always was. Up front was a shiny silver SUV—probably the doctor’s.

I scowled, wondering why she was here so late and why all the lights were off. The office stopped seeing patients at six p.m., so she should have gone straight home to study. Why stay here?

I parked, careful to not allow my lights to shine into the one window where light was being emitted. I sat in the car for a few minutes feeling angry and overwhelmed. Unless her car broke down and she was somewhere with someone else, Gypsy was inside this building. Maybe a lot had changed in the past few months, but I didn’t really see Dr. Marshal giving her the keys to the building to study all by herself, which meant he was in there with her. But he was so much older than her—too old for a relationship, in my opinion, but it didn’t make sense to me.

My hands shook, palms sweaty, heart racing. She’d have told me that she was studying with him if he was helping her. It made sense. He was a doctor and she was finishing her medical degree. I just couldn’t convince my heart that this was innocent. She shut her phone off, ignored my texts, and told me she was studying, which was why she couldn’t be with me during the week, and she never came home.

I couldn’t take it. I had to know what was happening in that room. I could see clearly that the blinds were open in the room. If I snuck over there, I’d be able to see right in, but that would be a massive violation of her privacy. My insecurity was getting the better of me, and I was letting it. I wasn’t about to be cheated on again. Misty destroyed my heart. Gypsy swore she’d never hurt me like that, but what was I to believe?

I opened the door of my car, pulling the key so the chime wouldn’t sound. The dome light glowed, so I switched it off, leaving the door open so I wouldn’t make a sound shutting it. Then I started for the window.

The closer I got, the more my heart raced. It was early March, but I was sweating. My breathing was erratic, worse than being in combat. I’d rather have gone to combat. At least there, I was prepared for death. Here was tougher. I never knew when my heart was going to get trampled on, and based on the way things looked, it was about to—again.

I crept up to the window, craning my neck to see in. She was there, sitting next to his desk. Her hair hung in a disheveled mess around her shoulders, tangles of waves. He was there too, smiling and laughing. The windows had a sound-blocking quality to them, preventing me from hearing what they were talking about, and I couldn’t see the computer screen.

The next thing I noticed was how his tie was draped over a chair, the top few buttons of his shirt undone, a crop of chest hair popping out of it. Her eyes sparkled when she spoke to him, looking up at him as he leaned over her shoulder. From this angle, I couldn’t see down her top, but I caught his eyes looking down at her more than once. He was probably looking right down her blouse.

The more I looked, the angrier I got. There were brown paper bags, takeout leftovers, sitting on the desk. She picked up a soda cup and slurped out of the straw, biting it between her teeth as she glanced at him. The look was seductive, challenging my patience to my core. I almost snapped. If I stood there any longer, I was going to barge into that office and say things I’d regret.

I pushed off the building, ready to storm off to my car, and tripped over a bush. My knee twisted, causing me to cry out in pain, but I tried to muffle it. It hurt like hell, and I limped my way over to my car and climbed in, not making any effort to silence the car door as I slammed it. I didn’t even care if she found out I was spying on her. My heart was so enraged at this point, I didn’t care what she said. We were done. There was no coming back from this. I’d been a fool for trusting her again and again. This was the last straw.

I wondered for a moment whether Maggie and Derek knew about this too. Were they protecting her as she slept with another man? Was it his baby too? She was lying to me to make me feel better? Was she lying to everyone? Serah had been right. I should have demanded a paternity test. I should have trusted my instinct the moment that I found out she was pregnant the first time and never told me.

I drove straight to the bar and parked, finding a spot right up front and ordering a few shots. I’d be super fucked up, but it was what I needed to get my mind off all of this. I couldn’t trust anyone, least of all the woman who was supposed to be carrying my child—if it was even my child. I downed those shots so fast they hadn’t had a chance to kick in before the next round of shots was up. The bartender eyed me oddly, but I slapped my money on the bar and slid it toward him.

“Found out my woman might be cheating. Just serve me. I won’t cause trouble.” The man nodded, understanding, and tipped up the bottle of bourbon. At least one person in this world understood my pain.

CHAPTERTHIRTY-SIX

Gypsy

I slurped my soda, laughing at Cameron’s stories of his antics over the years. He had made some bonehead mistakes at times, luckily never any that caused a lawsuit. I was grateful for his help. I had passed the test I needed to do well on with flying colors. My marks were going up, thanks to his help and the turnaround in my emotional state. All in all, I felt things were going really well and were looking up.

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