Page 52 of Wild Devotion
She ignored me. Stepped out of the shower, grabbed a towel, and walked past me to her dresser. “I’ve got to go. I don’t have time for this.”
“Why are you so angry with me? I’m planning to call Sean. I just need to work up to it. He’s not exactly someone I’m eager to talk to.”
“Well, you didn’t seem to have a problem with him when you were fucking him.” The dresser drawer slammed shut, punctuating every word. “That’s how babies are made, after all.”
The air left my lungs.
Chantel and I had fought about everything. Whether the paint on the wall was eggshell or cream. Whether Degrassi: The Next Generation was better than the original. But never, in all our years of bickering, had she spoken to me like this.
Even with her blunt, tell-it-how-it-is approach to life, she’d never been this cruel.
Heat radiated from my cheeks. The knot on my head throbbed in time with my heartbeat. Tears threatened to spill.
“Listen, I still love you.” She pulled a shirt over her head and turned to face me. “But I can’t keep watching you drown in your own fear. You know what you want. Why are you letting it hold you back? Just dive in. You know how to swim, and you know I’ll be holding the life jacket.”
“I’m scared,” I whispered.
“I know, cocotte. I know.” Her chest heaved and her eyes went glassy. “I’m scared too. Every single day. Every time I walk into that emergency room, I’m terrified someone will figure out I don’t belong there. Or that a case will be too complicated and I’ll lose someone.”
She blinked hard, shaking her head. “Never mind. I’m projecting. This isn’t about me. You’ll be fine. I’m here. But other people want to be here for you too, and you need to let them in. You can’t stay closed off forever.”
I wanted to believe her. I wanted to trust that she was right. But Sean wasn’t reliable. Caleb had already walked away. And the only person who’d never left me was standing in front of me, half-dressed and furious, looking like she was carrying her own secrets that were eating her alive.
“I really have to go.” She pulled on her pants and headed for the stairs. “Please, just think about it.”
“Okay,” I called after her, but she was already gone. The front door opened and closed before I could form another word.
I stood alone in her loft, the silence pressing in from every direction.
When had I stopped telling my best friend everything? She didn't even know I'd already told Caleb about the baby.
Chapter Nineteen
Caleb
I’d just finished putting the living room furniture back together when Chantel blew past me. No goodbye, just the front door slamming hard enough to rattle the windows.
Whatever had been eating at her was getting worse, and she was doing a shit job of hiding it. She’d been a tornado for days, and the rest of us were getting tossed in her wake.
This time it was Zadie taking the hit. I couldn’t make out what they’d said from downstairs, but the tone had carried through the floor—sharp, heated, Chantel’s voice cracking on something that sounded more like pain than anger.
Now the house was quiet. Too quiet.
I climbed the stairs and found Zadie standing in the middle of Chantel’s loft, motionless, her back to me.
“Zadie?”
She gave me nothing. Not even a flinch. Her slight frame was rigid as stone.
“Hey.” I closed the distance and placed my hand on her shoulder. “Are you all right?”
She turned, and the sob that came out of her nearly took me to my knees. Her face was streaked with tears, her nose red, her eyes swollen.
I couldn’t stand it. She held herself together with everything she had, but right now her seams were ripping open and there was nothing I could do but watch.
“It’s okay, I got you.” I tightened my grip on her shoulder and pulled her toward me. “I’m sorry.”
She leaned in, but only for a second. Then her hands were on my chest, shoving me back, her face twisting into a scowl even as the tears kept falling. “You should be fucking sorry. I’m so mad at you.”
