EMBER - Part Three (The EMBER Series, #3) by Deborah Bladon
Authors: Deborah Bladon
Tags: alpha male, alpha male romance, new adult romance, new adult romance with sex, bad boy, Bad Boy romance, deborah blandon, deborah blanton, deborah bladon romance, deborah blandon ember, ember part three
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Chapter 1
"H e left her?" Zoe can't contain the obvious confused agitation in her voice. "Is she in a wheelchair, Bridget?"
I glance back at the portrait. When I had walked up to the woman in the museum that day, I had shown her the drawing. Her hand had swept over the paper and she'd asked where the wheelchair was. I was silent, not because it made me uncomfortable, but because I had no understanding of whether the omission of it bothered her or not.
She must have sensed my trepidation because she quietly insisted that I include it, in an abstract way. I had. I had drawn the curves of the wheels and the straight and solid lines of the arms and back of the chair so they were understated. It was apparent, but not the focal point of the drawing. I wanted her spirit to rise above any other part of the portrait and when I showed her what I had done, she had smiled brilliantly. She'd whispered that she felt beautiful. I had told her she was.
"She was sitting in the cafeteria with Dane's mom when I met her," Vanessa interjects. "I was rushing back to my shift after a break so I didn't notice the wheelchair, but she was in it yesterday when I saw them down the hallway."
The confirmation only adds to the pain that has rushed through me. I'd had a conversation with Maisy. I'd listened to her talk about Dane and within those words I could sense the deep love she felt for him. They were having a son and each time that I've shared my body with him since that day, I've taken something from her whether I've known it or not. I've stolen her happiness. She doesn't deserve that.
I may not understand the intricacies of their relationship but I know what I saw. I saw a man lovingly kiss the pregnant belly of a woman. I saw tenderness and affection. How could he go from feeling all of that to leaving her a little more than a day later?
"Have you shown that to Dane?" Vanessa asks before her smartphone's ring pierces the air.
Zoe and I stand in silence as Vanessa mutters something into the stillness about an emergency, the hospital being short staffed and her need to rush back there.
"We should talk about this, Bridge." She pushes her phone back into the pocket of her sweater. "Why don't you ride over to the hospital with me in a taxi? We can talk on the way and then you can hop the subway back here."
"I should probably just go with you." Zoe waves her smartphone in the air. "Beck isn't home yet and the sitter needs to go. I'll share a taxi with you, Vanessa. Bridget can stay here."
She hasn't glanced at her phone since she arrived. I know she's made up an excuse because she can sense my need to be alone. She's always been able to gauge when the solace of my own company is the one thing I crave.
I don't move when Vanessa, and then Zoe, hugs me. Zoe's face darts into my line of sight for a brief moment. The confusion within her eyes is a pure reflection of my own feelings. I don't open my mouth to offer any explanation about how I unintentionally drew the woman Dane loved because I still can't get a firm grasp on the irony of it.
I don't ask Vanessa for any details about Maisy and her baby because it's not her story to tell. It's Dane's and the fact that we've shared our bodies and small pieces of our hearts with one another doesn't matter at this point. The only thing that truly matters is that the day before I met him, he was in the gift shop of a museum, picking out a print to hang on the wall of the home he shared with the woman he is going to have a baby with.
I stand in my makeshift studio as I hear the door of my apartment closing as my friends take leave to go share a ride where they'll talk about the man who helped nurse me back to health. They'll discuss the fact that I had no idea that I'd met Dane's ex-girlfriend. As they say goodbye when the taxi stops in front of the hospital to drop off Vanessa, they'll both take comfort in the fact that they are loved by men who don't carry secrets with the same weight of Dane's.
My
"H e left her?" Zoe can't contain the obvious confused agitation in her voice. "Is she in a wheelchair, Bridget?"
I glance back at the portrait. When I had walked up to the woman in the museum that day, I had shown her the drawing. Her hand had swept over the paper and she'd asked where the wheelchair was. I was silent, not because it made me uncomfortable, but because I had no understanding of whether the omission of it bothered her or not.
She must have sensed my trepidation because she quietly insisted that I include it, in an abstract way. I had. I had drawn the curves of the wheels and the straight and solid lines of the arms and back of the chair so they were understated. It was apparent, but not the focal point of the drawing. I wanted her spirit to rise above any other part of the portrait and when I showed her what I had done, she had smiled brilliantly. She'd whispered that she felt beautiful. I had told her she was.
"She was sitting in the cafeteria with Dane's mom when I met her," Vanessa interjects. "I was rushing back to my shift after a break so I didn't notice the wheelchair, but she was in it yesterday when I saw them down the hallway."
The confirmation only adds to the pain that has rushed through me. I'd had a conversation with Maisy. I'd listened to her talk about Dane and within those words I could sense the deep love she felt for him. They were having a son and each time that I've shared my body with him since that day, I've taken something from her whether I've known it or not. I've stolen her happiness. She doesn't deserve that.
I may not understand the intricacies of their relationship but I know what I saw. I saw a man lovingly kiss the pregnant belly of a woman. I saw tenderness and affection. How could he go from feeling all of that to leaving her a little more than a day later?
"Have you shown that to Dane?" Vanessa asks before her smartphone's ring pierces the air.
Zoe and I stand in silence as Vanessa mutters something into the stillness about an emergency, the hospital being short staffed and her need to rush back there.
"We should talk about this, Bridge." She pushes her phone back into the pocket of her sweater. "Why don't you ride over to the hospital with me in a taxi? We can talk on the way and then you can hop the subway back here."
"I should probably just go with you." Zoe waves her smartphone in the air. "Beck isn't home yet and the sitter needs to go. I'll share a taxi with you, Vanessa. Bridget can stay here."
She hasn't glanced at her phone since she arrived. I know she's made up an excuse because she can sense my need to be alone. She's always been able to gauge when the solace of my own company is the one thing I crave.
I don't move when Vanessa, and then Zoe, hugs me. Zoe's face darts into my line of sight for a brief moment. The confusion within her eyes is a pure reflection of my own feelings. I don't open my mouth to offer any explanation about how I unintentionally drew the woman Dane loved because I still can't get a firm grasp on the irony of it.
I don't ask Vanessa for any details about Maisy and her baby because it's not her story to tell. It's Dane's and the fact that we've shared our bodies and small pieces of our hearts with one another doesn't matter at this point. The only thing that truly matters is that the day before I met him, he was in the gift shop of a museum, picking out a print to hang on the wall of the home he shared with the woman he is going to have a baby with.
I stand in my makeshift studio as I hear the door of my apartment closing as my friends take leave to go share a ride where they'll talk about the man who helped nurse me back to health. They'll discuss the fact that I had no idea that I'd met Dane's ex-girlfriend. As they say goodbye when the taxi stops in front of the hospital to drop off Vanessa, they'll both take comfort in the fact that they are loved by men who don't carry secrets with the same weight of Dane's.
My
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