Losing You (Stars On Fire Book 4) (35 page)

“I know. I’m sorry. I just can’t bear to be around my friends. They mean well, but it’s not helping me. I’ve never run away from anything in my life, but, at this moment, it seems like the best thing to do. Everywhere I turn, everything I do, Tom is right there. And I don’t really know how much more I can take of this. And I shouldn’t be laying this out for you like I am—you’re going through this too.”

“Yes, I am. He was my only son,” she said, the emotion of saying those words reflected in her eyes. “Elizabeth, I’ve been having a hard time with this as well. Yesterday was the first time I’d been able to go through his possessions that the hospital gave me and that prompted me to go to his house. After what I saw, I’d like for you to come with me right now. Can you do that?”

Lizzie feared going to Tom’s. She feared the emotional ride she’d be on there. But she couldn’t say no to his mom. Not many people could. Lizzie’s head nodded in assent, her eyes stinging with tears.

“Okay. I’ll drive,” Mrs. Myers said, taking the cup and saucer from Lizzie’s hand.

Lizzie got up and put on her fuzzy boots and her coat, making sure to grab her purse and house keys. She followed Mrs. Myers out of the house and to the car. The drive to Tom’s was quiet. Lizzie focused on the stores on the side of the road rather than what was in front of her. When they arrived, Mrs. Myers got out, but Lizzie hesitated.

Her heart pounded. She dreaded this moment, being at his place without him. She didn’t want to cry these tears she knew she’d be shedding.

His mother came to the car. “It’ll be all right, Elizabeth. You just have to make this step, okay? You have good memories in there, remember that.”

Lizzie nodded her head in determination and reached for the door handle. Tom’s mom walked up the steps and unlocked the door to let her in. Lizzie shuffled past and what she saw shocked her. The living room had been set up for a romantic evening after the party. But all that remained of that was dead flowers scattered around the room. There was a wine bucket with a bottle of champagne and two glasses on the table.

“This must have looked beautiful,” Lizzie whispered.

“He had a purpose, Elizabeth,” Mrs. Myers said behind her.

“Yeah, he’d said he wanted to talk about an idea he had,” she said going deep in thought. He’d told her that it would be special and it would have been. She loved him more at that moment.

“Elizabeth,” she said, trying to get her attention. Lizzie turned away from the flowers and looked at Tom’s mother. “This was in his jacket,” she said, handing Lizzie a small blue box.

The moment she saw the box, she put it all together. The idea, the flowers, the champagne, the blue box. Her knees buckled and she fell to the floor and began to cry silently.

Lizzie opened the box and the tears fell even faster as she regarded the gorgeous diamond engagement ring. The large center diamond was surrounded by blue and green stones wrapping around the band, weaving in and out of even more diamonds. It was absolutely breathtaking. The moment she slid the ring on her finger, the enormity of what it meant crashed into her. “He wanted to marry me?” she said, a smile finally coming to her face. Mrs. Myers knelt beside her.

“Yes, dear, he did. When he told me that you two were finally together, I was so happy. After all these years, he had realized he was in love with his best friend. And when I saw this ring . . . it may have made me sad, but it also brought a smile to my face. He wanted to marry that same best friend.”

“I loved Tom with all my heart.”

“I know you did, sweetheart. I know.”

Lizzie

December 2009

Two days to Christmas and Lizzie felt like hell. Fucking flu. Working herself into the ground left her open to all the damn germs on the train and she’d finally succumbed.

Crawling out of bed, Lizzie headed to the bathroom and searched the linen closet for medicine. She pushed aside a box of tampons and paused. A terrifying thought poked her brain and had her racing down to her office to consult her planner.

Fuck . . . no. That couldn’t be right. Seven weeks since her last period? Probably stress. She sure as hell had enough of it lately. But what if it wasn’t?

Walking into her closet, Lizzie changed and drove down the snowy road to the Walgreens. She purchased the test then hurried home to pee on the stick.

“Damn,” she said in wonderment after seeing the word “pregnant” appear. She sat down on the counter and stared at the test in her hand. After a few minutes, a smile cracked through her tears. She couldn’t believe the way fate worked. She was pregnant with Tom’s child, though he wouldn’t be around to experience it. She’d have a piece of her and Tom that would live on.

A week later, Lizzie stood in her kitchen. Definitely pregnant. Nine weeks along, her doctor had said. Lizzie figured it was the night in her backyard. Her last night with him.

Her baby started life just as the father ended his.

Lizzie slammed the door, then got a paper towel to stop the tears from completely ruining her makeup.

When the doorbell rang, she took a deep breath, then put a smile on her face as she went to answer the door. Lizzie had been able to get out of Christmas dinner with her friends but New Year’s Eve . . . no. Especially when she’d be the host. Something she’d taken on before Tom’s death. Gwen had offered to have it at her place instead, but Lizzie could do this . . . she hoped.

Her smile got a little brighter when she heard Ollie teasing Gwen on the other side of the door. Though she’d pretty much stayed away from everyone the past month, she did miss them.

Opening the door, she was greeted by Gwen and Ollie . . . and Marc. He smiled tentatively at her as she stood in the doorway staring at him. She hadn’t seen or spoken to him since Tom’s funeral. Even there not many words had passed between them. He’d been her shadow though. He stood on her right as they lowered Tom’s casket into the ground. She’d taken his hand as he silently cried along with her.

But after that day—nothing.

She figured he was coping in his own way and left it be—though she made sure that Ollie and Gwen checked in on him . . . like they did her.

“You gonna stand there all day?” Ollie remarked, pulling her out of her thoughts.

“Sorry,” she said, stepping aside to let her friends in. As they took off their coats, Lizzie shut the door and hung back.

“Feeling better?” Gwen asked, giving her a hug.

“Tired,” she answered honestly.

“I told you I could’ve hosted this,” Gwen shot back.

“I know, but I wanted to do this. It gave me something to do.”

“Well,” Ollie said, kissing her cheek, “Don’t overdo it.”

“I won’t,” she promised.

“Where do you want all this?” he asked, looking down at the cases of beer and bags of food.

“Fit as much beer as you can in the fridge. Put the rest out on the porch. Food on the dining table.”

“Got it.” Then he and Gwen were off, leaving her alone with Marc.

“Hi, Elizabeth.”

She shook her head, a small smile coming to her face. “You are the only one to call me that.”

He shrugged his shoulders and smiled his disarming smile. “You don’t like it?”

She liked it . . . a lot. Always had. Especially when he’d said it when they were in bed.

When she didn’t answer, his smile faded. “Lizzie.”

“I like it,” she admitted. “Just throws me off.”

“I don’t want to throw you off. So, let’s start over. Hi, El—Lizzie.”

She laughed and his smile returned. “El Lizzie?”

He stuck his tongue out at her. “Leave me alone. My mouth just wants to say ‘Elizabeth,’ and you know I don’t have the best control over that.”

“Whatever,” she said and stepped forward and slid her arms around his torso and hugged him. She’d surprised him. He hesitated a moment then he brought her closer, cocooning her in his embrace, her cheek against his rapidly beating heart.

The last time she’d been in his arms had been at Tom’s funeral. This right now was nothing like that. This felt good. So she stayed in that protective space. She may have sighed, she wasn’t entirely sure, but when his lips found the top of her head, she knew for sure she had.

Amazing what a hug could do. She felt the heavy clouds hovering over her dissipate.

Lizzie took a deep breath and released her hold on Marc. His hands slipped away and she felt the loss. Looking up, she smiled tentatively at his thoughtful face, then gestured towards the kitchen. “Come on.”

“Beer, Lizzie?” Ollie asked, holding up a bottle.

Shit!
Hadn’t thought about that
. She didn’t want to tell anyone about the baby yet, didn’t know what to think or do or how it would affect her future, especially since her motto had been “take it day by day.” Lizzie would tell people when she was ready—not one second before.

“No, thanks. That’ll just put me to sleep. But I will have one of these,” she said, nabbing one of Gwen’s famous chocolate chip cookies.

“I have a whole tin for you,” Gwen said, indicating the big container on top of her fridge.

“Well, thank you, but how the hell am I going to get to that?” Lizzie asked, pointing to the fridge then to her short ass self.

“Don’t worry,” Ollie said, “I’ll get it down before I leave.”

“Thanks, Ollie,” she said, thankful for tall friends, then the four went about setting up the food. They weren’t silent but certain topics weren’t touched.

The party was fun yet somewhat somber. People didn’t seem to want to get very drunk, which was fine. Lots of groups sitting around talking. No wildness—a departure from their usual parties.

Lizzie played host and found herself in the kitchen most of the night. A lot of her conversations consisted of
“Hey Lizzie, how are you?” “I’m okay.” “Good. Happy New Year.”
Then they scattered off. She was fine with that. She didn’t want to discuss Tom with them either.

With three minutes to midnight, the excited shouts came to gather around the television to watch the countdown to ring in the New Year. Lizzie held back and entered her living room as they began to count down.

10 . . . 9 . . . 8 . . . 7 . . . 6 . . . 5 . . . 4 . . . 3 . . . 2 . . . 1 . . .

“Happy New Year!”
they all shouted. Then everyone paired off to ring the New Year in with a kiss. Everyone but her.

She couldn’t stand to watch it. She had to get out of there. Spinning around, Lizzie ran straight into Marc. Taking a deep breath to stop the threatening tears, Lizzie apologized and tried to sidestep him.

“Hey . . . Elizabeth, what’s wrong?” he asked, reaching out to wrap his hand around her arm.

Looking out at her empty kitchen, she blurted out, “I’ve got no one to kiss,” she said quietly, the words killing her to say.

“Me either,” he responded.

She sniffed at her tears and turned at the sadness in his voice. The problem with her height was that the first thing she normally saw were lips. Her eyes locked on them as she took two steps towards him. His hand that had been on her forearm moved up to her bicep then to her shoulder. Her gaze left his lips and to his unsure eyes.

She could kiss him right now. There was a part of her that wanted it and pushed her forward, resting her hands on his chest. But there was the part of her that just couldn’t . . . not yet. That was the part that won.

A tear escaped from her eye and down her cheek. “I’m not ready.”

Marc brushed the tear away with the soft pad of his thumb, her eyes fluttering shut at that sweet contact.

“It’s okay,” he said, his breath against her ear. She inhaled sharply when his lips pressed against her cheek. “Happy New Year, Elizabeth,” he said once he backed away.

Lizzie opened her eyes and replied. “Happy New Year, Marc.”

Lizzie

March 2010

The New Year saw new challenges from Parker . . . especially since she’d declined the move to San Francisco. He hadn’t been angry, though a little disappointed, but he seemed to understand. He’d given her time to grieve, and she took it—not traveling, just doing things around the office for local clients. Then about two weeks into the New Year, he’d stopped into her office and simply asked, “You ready?”

She was. The menial tasks she’d been doing were finally making her batty. She nodded at him.