Breathe Again (7 page)

H
OSPITALS WERE
one of those places I had no opinion of. I spent plenty of time in the emergency waiting room during the years. Memories of the time I broke my hand in a bar fight, the time Tanzi sprained her ankle trying to re-enact the Baywatch opening scene on the beach at home, and the time my family and I sat for hours waiting on news of my grandfather, who had fallen ill, flooded me as I now sat beside Sav. Today we were going to see Jellybean and I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face but by the way that Sav’s hand was strangling mine, I didn’t think she shared my excitement.

“I hate hospitals,” she grumbled, practically forcing herself onto my lap.

“The next time we are here will be the moment we hold little Jellybean, so then hospitals will be amazing,” I cooed. Seriously, where the fuck had my balls gone? Since when had I begun talking all this soft shit?

She swiveled beside me and narrowed her eyes as amusement swept over her face.

“Since when did you become a guru of inspiration?”

“I am a changed man, Sav.” I fired a suggestive wink at her. “I am now a sensitive new-age guy.” The roll of her eyes that I received made it clear that she didn’t believe a word I’d said.

“Oh god, you are delusional. Please don’t change too much. I like you just the way you are.”

My eyebrows rose. “Is this an invitation to keep being an asshole?”

“That’s my favorite part of you.”

“Stop flirting with me. You know I love it when you talk dirty.”

“You think this is dirty? Just you wait.” Sav licked her lips seductively and my cock jumped at the thought.

“Until?”

“Savannah Rae, the doctor is ready to see you now.”

Sav’s smirk filled her face and I squeezed her hand in warning. She was such a fucking tease at times.

We followed the woman through winding hallways and entered a surprisingly fresh and inviting room with a single bed and a machine that I knew would allow us to see Jellybean. A wave of anxiety rolled over me and my fears for the future rushed in like the biggest waves I’d ever ridden. I was about to see the person who would rely on me for protection, for unconditional love, and for safety.

My fears of the future hadn’t dwindled, and for the past two months, a small piece of paper had been burning a hole in my wallet. That small piece of paper held the phone number of my father, the man who had helped create me but who had also made me the shell of a man I was today.

“Tate, where has your mind taken you?” Sav’s soft voice ripped me from my thoughts. I blinked and offered her the best smile I could muster, but I knew my face was showing my deepest fears.

Would I ever feel like I wasn’t going to fuck up? What should have been the happiest moment of my life was turning to shit because of a prick of a man I hadn’t seen for twenty-three years. Sav’s thumb swept over my knuckles before she lifted my hand to her mouth and lightly kissed each knuckle. A simple gesture to some, but to me it was a gesture of faith.

“You aren’t him.”

My eyes moved away from Sav’s as my emotions bubbled inside of me. I never wanted her to ever look at me as anything but strong and protective. I had already let my defenses down once in New York and I needed to keep them in check here.

“You aren’t him, Tate,” Sav repeated, her voice laced with promise and reassurance. Her tiny hands gripped at my forearm, and with a little hesitation, I allowed my eyes to find hers. There was no fear or agreement looking back at me. Her eyes spoke to me with hope, understanding, and most importantly, a look of us. She had a faith in me I’d never known could exist, and that scared me the most. If she believed in me, then that meant I had to believe in myself, right?

Nodding slowly, I stepped towards her and wrapped my arms around her body. The body that was my comfort.

“Savannah, it’s good to see you. Let’s get this show on the road and see this little one.”

I stepped away from Sav as, who I assumed was, Doctor Johnson walked into the room holding a bright blue file and a smile on his face. He was a middle-aged man with a head full of grey hair, deep laugh lines around his eyes, and a bushy white beard. If I’d believed in Santa, I would think he was Sav’s doctor.

After placing the file on his desk, Doctor Johnson directed at me, “You must be the father?” Before he shook my hand confidently. I simply nodded, suddenly mute, and matched his grip. “Okay, Sav. If you want to hop up on the bed and lift your shirt over your stomach, we will get started.”

I followed Sav across the room like a puppy dog and stopped just short of the bed. Sav turned towards me, firing a heartwarming smile and handed me her bag. My nerves were running rampant, and my eyes jumped from Sav’s gorgeous greens to the bag she had placed in my hands. It was almost like my brain had dissolved to mush and I had no idea what I was supposed to be doing.

“Put my bag on the table and then come and hold my hand while we see our baby.”

The doctor squeezed the gel onto Sav’s stomach, causing her body to jump slightly from the bed at the cold sensation. Her free arm wrapped around my waist and her hand rested on the small of my back, her fingertips lifting the edge of my shirt and sitting so softly on my bare skin like she was locking me in.

My hand tightened on the hand I was gripping for dear life the moment the doctor swirled the weird-looking stick on her tan stomach. The silence of the room was deafening, but then out of the darkness on the small television screen in front of us came the image both Sav and I were waiting for.

My eyes widened and my throat suddenly felt dry as he or she appeared. I was looking at absolute perfection, and at that moment, it was like the world was giving me a giant slap in the face, everything became real.

I realized in that moment what it felt like to be living entirely for another human being, what it felt like to love another human being more than the air I breathed, what it felt like to be so protective and devoted to a person that wasn’t even here. My eyes burned into the screen, overwhelmed with the emotion of the miracle I was witnessing. I wasn’t one to often cry, but I felt an onslaught of tears just begging to be unleashed.

Out of the silence, the most amazing and life-changing sound saturated the room—the fast beat of our baby’s heart. I knew my hand gripped Sav’s too tightly, but she didn’t complain. Sav was letting me have my moment, a moment I would never forget. When Doctor Johnson started talking, I tore my eyes from the screen and looked Sav and his words soon disappeared because all I could focus on was Sav and the look of complete happiness on her face.

I had always known she was beautiful. I had always known she was sexy as hell. But seeing her here with the look of contentment on her face, her blond hair feathered on the pillow behind her, and her face makeup-free and utterly glowing, I had never met such an exquisite beauty.

“I will go and book your next appointment, so feel free to clean up and I will meet you in reception.”

Doctor Johnson walked out of the room, leaving Sav and me on our own. She smiled as she unleashed her lock on my body and grabbed the tissues from the table beside the bed.

“Let me,” I stated and took the tissues from her hand.

Slowly, I pushed her shirt up higher and tucked it under the bottom of her bra. I could feel her eyes watching me closely, and the sound of her breath hitching under my touch made my body react immediately.

“You are giving me the greatest gift a man could ever ask of a woman. You are giving me a child, a new beginning, a new love—something I never thought I could ever deserve,” I admitted effortlessly, my words were the most honest part of who I was. “I love you so much, Sav.”

Our eyes locked as I continued to clean up her stomach without another word. We were a walking contradiction. Both of us had promised ourselves during the darkest times of our lives that we would never give our hearts to another, but here we were, promising our hearts to the other to keep or break, offering our souls to love or crush, and handing our insecurities to the other to comfort or destroy. But what I was quickly learning was that the love we shared wasn’t like others. We had our own crazy, fucked-up way of loving, and finally, I was totally okay with it.

Savannah

I
KNEW
my day wasn’t going as planned when I receive a memo from Mr. Davenport requesting my attendance to an urgent meeting in the boardroom five minutes after I turned up for work.

I had been back in LA for a month and I’d jumped straight back into work. I loved my job, and the office gossips had finally realized that I wasn’t carrying Mr. Davenport’s love child, so things were semi back to normal.

Standing from my desk, I grabbed my morning hot chocolate and waddled through the office in all my six-and-a-half-month pregnant glory towards Mr. Davenport’s office to await my fate. What could I have possibly done? The mind boggles.

For once my life seemed to be in perfect alignment. Tate and I were blissfully in love, Lucas and Ali were back together after having a heart-to-heart that had resulted in a very loud make-up session in the apartment—much to Tate’s disgust—and Jack and Tanzi were enjoying making their apartment their own. The events of New York City seemed so far in the past, and thankfully my insecurities about my relationship with Tate had all but vanished.

As I moved through the office, I was stopped at every desk. Questions about how my pregnancy was going were fired at me, and more recently, the question of whether I knew the sex of Jellybean was the most popular topic of conversation. I was desperate to find out, but Tate was adamant that he wanted a surprise; he wasn’t one to plan, so he didn’t want our baby’s life already planned before he or she was born. He didn’t want Jellybean’s room painted. He didn’t want all of the clothes to be picked. He just wanted the surprise. I had to admit that it was freaking adorable.

My hand grabbed hold of the boardroom door handle and I froze as I heard three distinct voices through the door. As I opened it slowly, my eyes landed on Mr. Davenport, Tate, and Chelsea. Tate was dressed in the black pants and crisp Red Velvet shirt I had seen him walk out of the apartment in this morning. He looked business-owner chic as I’d told him this morning while lying in bed with an aching body and ragged breathing from yet another sex marathon. The further along my pregnancy I got, the more adventurous we had to get in the bedroom.

“Hi again, Savannah. As always, it’s a pleasure.” Chelsea, wearing red patent stripper heels, took a step towards me and glared at me.

“Don’t fucking talk to her, Chelsea,” Tate demanded from across the room.

I protectively wrapped my arms around myself as I stared at Mr. Davenport for answers. Why the fuck was she here? Instantly, my walls went up as the feeling of betrayal etched within me. I refused to be hurt again; I refused to let this bitch cause any more drama in my life. Both Tate and Mr. Davenport knew how much I despised Chelsea, but still here she was, at one of my safe places, wearing jeans that were a size too small and a shirt that was barely holding in her overinflated fake boobs, looking like a two-dollar hooker. The moment my eyes landed on Chelsea, a torrent of flashbacks hit me. The visuals of her riding Tate made vomit rise from the pits of my stomach and threaten to spill out over the plush carpet of the boardroom.

“Does someone want to explain what the hell is happening because I am about to walk out of this room if I don’t get answers.” My words spat out with venom while my eyes threw daggers across the room at her. The smirk that painted her lips only fueled my fire.

“Savannah, can I have a word?” Mr. Davenport’s strong voice boomed beside me.

Oh yeah. Leave Tate and Chelsea in a room together, on their own. Nice thinking, Einstein.

I followed Mr. Davenport out into the open floor plan of the Beautify office. Thankfully we moved just outside of the glass wall of the boardroom so I could still watch her like a hawk. Tate stood on one side of the room, his face buried in his iPhone. He didn’t acknowledge anything she was saying to him. I couldn’t help but feel my ego shoot through the roof.
That’s right, bitch. He is mine.

“So are you going to fill me in? Why the hell is
she
here? Why is Tate here? You know I want to scratch her eyeballs out and feed them to her.”

“Yes I am very much aware of your wanted acts of violence towards her, but she is under contract with Beautify London and for some fucked-up reason that means I have to play nice with her. She is the feature model in the lingerie photo shoot next week.”

“I refuse to work on the shoot.”

“You are running the shoot.”

He has got to be kidding me. I would rather punch myself in the face than be anywhere near her.
“I’d rather quit.”

“You are such a drama queen. You are running the shoot and you are going to excel at it. This is your time, Savannah. What I am about to say is me being your family and not your boss, so listen carefully and make it known that I will deny everything if it comes out.” He looked around and leaned in close to me. “You have
FULL
control of this shoot. One wrong move and she is out, and I don’t mean just this shoot. She will never work with Beautify again, and we are the biggest magazine around at the moment. She may think that her shit doesn’t stink but you have the brains, the means, and the retaliation. Just make sure you are professional while you do it.”