The Lover’s Game (No Exceptions #2)(34)
Author: J.C. Reed

Surprised, I looked up at her and slowly realized that Sylvie had likely felt that way for a while. Shame burned through me.

Had I been so blind that I didn’t realize I was neglecting our friendship? We had been friends forever, and yet there were things Sylvie still didn’t know about me—things only Jett knew. For the past few weeks, I had been so focused on Jett that I had not realized Sylvie might feel left out. She had always been the sister I lost. And now with Jett gone, she was all I had. There was no doubt that she deserved my trust more than he did. I owed it to her to tell the truth.

“Look, I get your concern.” I sighed. “I know it’s wrong not to talk about things, but if I start talking, I’ll start making plans. I’ll dream and hope, and I don’t want to do that right now. When I was with Jett, I always had this unexplained fear that something would happen.”

“That you would break up?” Sylvie cut in. The question was harmless enough.

“No. It wasn’t only that,” I said softly.

I walked over to the coffeemaker. We had been so engrossed in our discussion that she had forgotten to switch it off. I poured steaming coffee in two cups, then handed Sylvie hers.

“I want this child more than anything, but I don’t want my hopes raised, only to see them shattered,” I said. “What’s so wrong with that? If you had experienced what I’ve gone through, you’d probably feel the same way.” I wrapped my fingers around the cup, but even the hot liquid didn’t warm my cold hands. Looking up into Sylvie’s blue eyes, I remembered it wasn’t that long ago that someone had planned to kill me.

Sylvie remained quiet, so I continued, “Trust me, I want to embrace motherhood. I want to paint the nursery in hues of pink and blue. I want to talk about baby plans all day, but I can’t. Do you understand?” I paused, wondering whether the question was directed at myself as much as at Sylvie. “It’s just not an option at the moment—not when Nate is free and I’m living in constant fear. Every night is a struggle, and I can’t fall asleep. I’m in such a state, I don’t dare hope for the better, and I most certainly don’t imagine what things could be like.”

I waited for Sylvie to ask another question, but she remained uncharacteristically silent. With a frown, she stared at her coffee, engrossed in her own thoughts.

“I understand,” she whispered at last. “I’m sorry, Brooke. I was so wrapped up in the belief that you weren’t happy about being pregnant that I thought…” She stopped in thought, unable or unwilling to finish her sentence.

“It’s okay. I know you mean well,” I said softly, my hand starting to rub my flat tummy, a habit I had developed since I’d learned I was pregnant.

Please stop talking about my baby or Jett. Especially Jett.

“Anyway, let’s not linger on those depressing issues.” I forced a smile onto my lips, even though there was no feeling behind it. “Enough about me already. What about you? What are your plans for the day?”

As if sensing my need for a change in topic, Sylvie lifted a mushroom and smelled it, then grimaced. “I’m going on a date today.”

“What?” I said, agog. “With whom? Why didn’t you tell me sooner? We could have gone shopping to find you a nice dress.”

She smiled with little enthusiasm and shrugged. “It’s no big deal. A friend set me up on a blind date. I might call it off.” Sylvie loved going on dates, and more than anything, she loved any excuse to go shopping. It was odd for her not to be excited about it.

I inched next to her, knowing that the only reason she’d blow one off was because she thought I needed her.

“No, you should definitely go,” I said. “In fact, I insist. Just because I’m having a bad day doesn’t mean you have to stay home and play babysitter. Besides, I’m working late today.”

“I don’t know.” She hesitated, catching my eyes. “Will you be okay?”

I smiled gently and shrugged. “Sure I will. You’ve already helped me so much.”

It was the truth. Sylvie and I might have had our conflicts and our own personal dramas, but having her near me, knowing she cared so much about me, helped me. I had always admired Sylvie, with good reason. She had gone through many more breakups than I had, and yet she was quick to stand up and move on. It was as if her heart was free to love whomever she wanted, and she could easily let go with the prospect of dating the next guy, whereas I just wouldn’t learn from my mistakes.

My heart resembled a trained falcon with its feet tied to its master and a hood on its head, unable to escape into freedom. All my life, I had vowed that I would never let anyone into my heart. When I made an exception for Jett, I never thought that it would change my life. My priorities and focus had shifted to the point that I had neglected my friends and my mother. My plans had been put on the back burner, and previous goals had lost importance. Too many things had changed, me included.

Sitting in the silence, in our old kitchen, with the penetrating ticking of the old clock above the door as the only sound, I realized that while I couldn’t turn back time, I still had the power to change things to how they used to be. Having Sylvie close reminded me why I had to stick to my resolutions and promises never to let a man control my heart.

“You go on your date,” I said resolutely. “I’ll even help you choose a dress.”

“If you insist.” She smiled at me. “But you’ve got to give me a hand with this cooking.”

“Are you really going to cook those things?” I pointed to the mushrooms in her hand, my mortification probably written all over my face. I was standing a few feet away, yet I could still smell the unpleasant bouquet of hippie, old cheese, and gym socks. I hoped the stench would dissipate, because I wasn’t going to eat anything smelly. Besides, they looked so dark and wrinkled, I doubted they were edible at all.

Even Sylvie looked doubtful as she eyed the old mushrooms with the kind of disgusted expression she usually reserved for spiders or anything that had more than four legs, but she remained quiet.

“Not trying to say I don’t want you to do something nice for me, but maybe we could do Chinese another day? I’d kill for a pizza with cheese crust, pepperoni, onions, and black olives,” I said. “What do you think?”

“Thank God. Me too.” She looked genuinely relieved as she dropped the shriveled mushrooms. “I’d love ham and extra cheese. With lots of different toppings, right? I can wolf that stuff down like no other.”