Bait (Wake, #1)(77)

He said, “Maybe I like fighting with you. Ever think of that? Maybe I like doing everything with you.”

He pulled his pants on and found his shirt. Then, after a minute to reflect, he turned to me. “You know you're right. This isn't fair. But you're wrong though, too. I do get you. I have all of the parts he doesn't want or give a shit about. And if you can't see that, then f*ck it. Fuck all of it!” he shouted.

I was glad I didn't wait any longer than I already had. I was going to be a mess when he left. I'd need some time before I had to board a plane and away from him for probably the last time. I could already feel pieces of me pulling apart and dying.

I stayed where I was on the floor while he got ready to go. He surprised me and came to me before he left. Leaning over, that beautiful man kissed my forehead.

“If you really want to marry him, then don't call me anymore, honeybee. If this is what you want, then so be it. For the record, I know it's a big f*cking mistake. You're going to realize it, too. One day. Don't f*cking call me then, either.”

I clenched my teeth to keep from screaming that I’d changed my mind. Which was a lie because I never really wanted to do this in the first place.

“You never offered me an alternative,” I whispered.

His lips pursed one more time against my skin, and paused as if savoring me.

My eyes shut tight. I only had to hold onto my emotions for a little while longer. I'd made it that far without breaking down.

I watched him walk out the door.

Sobs retched out of me the second I knew he was really gone. I would hear the slam of that door for the rest of my life.

So many times I'd prayed he would choose to stay.





Sunday, April 26, 2009


I SLAMMED THE DOOR on her, again, when I should have stayed and fought. I should have fought harder for her, for me, for us. But she wasn't on our side.

She wasn't on our side.

There was no use.

That winter seemed to take forever and I stayed gone a lot. I was working, building our brand, and I was doing well professionally.

Personally, I was sucking big-time.

It was easy to avoid people when you were out of town five days out of seven. I talked to my family on the phone regularly, but I hadn't seen them much since the holidays.

But it was finally April, and I was hoping that with spring shit would start clicking again, because for the last two months it seemed like nothing had.

I didn't go around Micah or Cory much, they were laying kind a low too, but they had a much cooler reason. They were preparing for parenthood. My mom had told me that she went with them to get strollers and baby things a few weeks back and that Cory was a nervous wreck. She made fun of him and said that our dad had been the same way.

“You'll make a good daddy, too, one of these days. I hope I get to see it, baby-boy.” She laughed on the other end of the line, again poking fun at me for not having a steady girlfriend. Even though, I knew she knew something, because after Micah's baby shower—an event I made sure to be out of the state for—she told me that Micah's best friend had chatted her ear off and that she was a pretty girl. Then, she’d said, “Oh, Casey,” which was mom-speak for what did you do?

I didn't tell her. Not then. I didn't talk to anyone about it. No one would say what I wanted to hear and no one would want to hear what I had to say. So I saved us all a big f*cking headache and kept my mouth shut.

That April morning, I'd picked my suitcase up off the luggage carousel and started for the front of the airport. I'd been gone for days and all I really wanted was a hot shower and my bed. That was the last time I was taking a red-eye on a Saturday night.

I hadn't slept well on the plane. I thought about Blake and wondered where she had been traveling. Or if she had at all. I wasn't allowing myself to check up on her through their website anymore. It wasn't a sane thing to do. Even I could see that.

How did she get me so worked up? And why in the hell did I keep chasing her? She'd told me—I don't know how many times and in about twice as many ways—that she wouldn’t leave him. I'd only wished I f*cking knew why.

I powered up my phone and the damn thing went crazy. It was nine thirty on a Sunday morning. All of the missed calls were from Micah. All of the texts were from her, too.

Terror rose in me. That many calls from Micah was wrong, and the fact that my family hadn't tried to reach me led me to believe it was something to do with Blake.

Before I could let my imagination wander too far, my phone rang in my hand. It was Micah.

I answered like there was nothing wrong, I thought that maybe if I believed it hard enough it would be true, “Good morning, Micah.”

“Like hell it is! Oooo... Can you find your brother for me? Where are you? Are you in town? Oooo... Hold on.” She pulled the phone away from her mouth and swore like I'd never heard her before. She had a mouth on her.

“Hey, Mic. Are you all right? I don't know where Cory is. I just got off a plane. What's going on?”

As I stepped up to the curb, a cab pulled right up in front of me. I didn't bother with putting my things in the trunk, tossing them inside and shutting the door.

“Um... I think I'm fine. Oooo...” She was sort of panting and moaning. I wasn't a fool.

She was in labor.