The Secret 05 Ella and Micha: Infinitely and Always (4 page)

The garage door is open, and Lila is waiting for me by her shiny black Mercedes. She’s changed into a flowery sundress and a jacket, her long, blonde hair is down and wavy, and she’s texting someone as I approach her.

“Jesus, you look like shit,” she remarks when she glances up at me.

“Wow. Thanks. Exactly what every woman wants to hear right before they go shopping for something to make them look sexy for their husband, who they haven’t seen in two months.” I sling my purse over my shoulder as I open the passenger door of the car.

“I’m so sorry.” She ducks into the car and starts up the engine. “I didn’t mean to sound like such a bitch.” She squints at me. “But you do look really pale.”

“I got sick this morning,” I admit as I fan my hand in front of my face. “And can we please keep the heat off this time? I feel like I’m burning up all the damn time. I’m seriously wondering if I’ve had the longest flu ever or something.”

With a pucker at her brows, she reaches across the console and places the palm of her hand on my forehead. “You don’t feel like you have a fever.” She lowers her hand to the shifter and pushes it into reverse. “Are you sure you’re up for shopping today? Because, if you’re not feeling good, we can just sit home and watch a movie or something. That cheers me up, too, just as long as I can pick the movie.”

I motion for her to back up the car. “No way. We’re so doing this. I need a dress, and you need cheering up.”

“Thank you, best friend.” She beams as she backs down the driveway.

“No problem.” I draw the seatbelt over my shoulder. “I just wish I knew what was up with me.”

She adjusts her mirror as she nears the street. “Up with what?”

“These stupid nausea spouts I’ve been having for like a month.”

She abruptly slams on the brakes, sending the car lurching to a stop. I shoot forward in my seat, nearly banging my head on the dash.

“What the hell, Lila?” I brush stray strands of hair out of my eyes and turn my head to gape at her. “What was that about?”

Her blue eyes search mine. “You said you’ve been getting sick to your stomach for like a month?”

I nod, confused. “Yeah. So? It’s probably stress or the flu. But don’t worry, if it keeps up, I’ll go to the doctor.”

She scans my outfit over. “And you’re wearing shorts when it’s nearly Christmas.”

“Okay, that is a little bit weird,” I agree with her. “But I’m so freaking hot all the time I can’t stand wearing anything warmer.”

A slow grin expands across her face. “Oh, my God, Ella!” She claps her hands and squeals, “You’re pregnant!”

I deflate like a balloon. “Are you fucking crazy! No, I’m not!”

She flinches from the sharpness in my tone but continues to smile. “Ella, I know you and Micha haven’t really decided to try having kids yet, but trust me, you show signs of being pregnant. I search the internet all the time for this stuff.”

“So what?” I squeak, sounding very unlike me. “Just because the internet says something doesn’t mean it’s true.”

“Okay.” She pauses then decides to tread forward despite my horror over the subject. “When was your last period?”

I stare at the ceiling as I mentally calculate. When I finally realize it was a little over two months ago, right before Micha and I had hot, sweaty piano bench sex, fear soars through me so potently I can barely breathe. How is this freaking possible? I mean, I’m on the damn pill. There was that week that I missed a few and had to start over, though. Fuck, I forgot about that.

I bite at my fingernails.
Shit.

“Things have been so intense at the gallery I can barely remember to eat, let alone when the last time I had my period was,” I lie, unable to accept the truth.

Lila pats my hand. “Oh, Ella.”

I jerk away from her. “Don’t you ‘oh Ella’ me.”

She surrenders, her hands in front of her. “Okay, Miss Hormones.”

“Lila!” I whine as tears sting my eyes. “Stop with the jokes. I’m freaking out here.”

Her hands fall to her lap. “Sorry. What do you need from me?”

“For you to help me.
Please
,” I practically beg her, but for what, I’m not even sure. Something that will help me handle this.

She must understand me because she nods and then backs out onto the road. “Okay, help is on the way.”

“Where are we going?” I ask, telling myself to breathe. That it can’t be true. That it’s a mistake. That it has to be a mistake. Because I was never supposed to be a mother.

She steers the car toward the city. “To find out the truth.”

Life has thrown me a curveball that’s hit me straight in the face. My brain aches so badly I can hardly think straight, much less process my emotions. I honestly wish I couldn’t think at all, then maybe I wouldn’t have to acknowledge the reality in front of me.

“How accurate are these things?” I ask Lila as I stare at the five pregnancy tests scattered on my bathroom countertop. All show positive, that yes, there’s a human growing in my stomach. Each time I think about it, I want to throw up.
Mom? I’m not a mom.

“Pretty accurate,” Lila says as she reads the back of the box. Once she’s finished, she hops off the counter and tosses the box into the trashcan. “Face it, Ella, I think you have a bun in your oven.”

“Ew. Don’t ever say that.” I frown at the stupid tests again. “Are you sure there’s not a small chance that all of them could be wrong?”

She shrugs as she checks her reflection in the mirror, wiping a dab of lipstick from her teeth. “There might be, but with five positives, I doubt it.”

I squeeze my eyes shut, feeling the floor crumbling beneath me. “Now what do I do?” I whisper.

When she places her hands on my shoulders, my eyelids open. “You tell Micha.” She looks over my shoulder and at me in the mirror. “And then you two get to celebrate.”

Lila is obviously happy about this and thinks I should be equally as happy. She doesn’t know—doesn’t understand—my fear of being a mother. From the day Micha and I first started talking about having children, I worried I couldn’t be a mother. That, if I had a child of my own, I wouldn’t know what to do with it since my own mother never seemed to know what to do with me. I actually spent many years taking care of her until I was about seventeen, and she took her own life. Left this world.

And now I’m supposed to bring someone into this world?

“I think I need to get ready for the concert,” I mumble, offering Lila a fake smile when she narrows her eyes at me.

“Let me know how it goes,” she replies as she turns to leave. Then she pauses in the doorway and looks over her shoulder at me. “And, Ella, be happy. This is a happy thing, okay?”

My smile grows even faker. “Okay.”

Her smile seems as sad as mine, but at the moment, I don’t have the energy to pick us both up.

Once she leaves the bathroom, I slam the door shut and collapse to my knees on the tile floor. God, I wish I had someone a little more understanding to talk to, wish I had a mother to call up and ask for advice. But, all I have is a father who hardly ever was a father to me until I was about twenty.

Lila, even though she means well, is too excited over this. She doesn’t get the undiluted terror I feel just thinking those test could be true. The sheer and utter horror over the fact that I might be a mother soon, and I have absolutely no idea what that entails.

As the realization weighs on me, I lie down on the floor, and for the first time in a long time, I cry my heart out.

Micha

Ella doesn’t show up at my final performance for the tour, and her phone is sending me straight to voicemail every time I call her. I’m trying not to lose my shit over not being able to get a hold of her. More than likely, she’s locked herself up in the attic to paint and has lost track of time—it’s happened before.

I had such huge plans for us tonight. Dinner after the concert, dancing, sex, going home, sex, talking about what’s going on in my career. Sex. Sex. Sex. But, as I pull up to our house and see that all the lights are off, my worry rockets through the roof.

I quickly park the car in the garage, silence the engine, and then rush into the house. The alarm doesn’t go off, which means it wasn’t set, making my worry escalate.

“Ella!” I call out as I drop the car keys onto the kitchen counter and dash for the stairway. “Ella, baby, are you home?”

When I reach the top of the stairs, I hurry to our bedroom door and push it open. Immediately, my heart settles.

Ella is curled up in a ball on the bed, fast asleep.

I cross the room, sink down on the edge of the mattress beside her, and watch her sleep peacefully, softly breathing in and out.

“God, I’m so glad to be home,” I whisper as I kick my boots off.

As they thud against the floor, Ella’s eyelids flutter open. She glances up at me, bleary eyed and disoriented. “Am I dreaming?” she asks as her gaze skims the room then lands back on me.

I sweep her hair out of her eyes. “No, baby, this isn’t a dream. I’m here.”

“What about earlier today?” she mutters as she sits up in bed and stretches her arms above her head. “Was that a dream?”

My brows furrow. “What happened earlier today?”

Her gaze flicks to the bathroom door, then she blinks back to me. “Nothing. I just got sick.” She yawns then slumps against the headboard. “I feel so tired.”

“I’m sorry you’re sick.” I slip off my other boot then climb over her and lay down in the bed. “It feels so good to be in my own bed again.” I bury my head into the pillow and stretch out my arms.

She nods then suddenly her eyes widen. “Oh, my word, I missed your performance, didn’t I?” Her gaze darts to the midnight sky outside the window and the city lights that look like a thousand fireflies dusting the land. “I’m so sorry, Micha.” Shaking her head, she lies down in the bed beside me so we’re lying on the mattress, facing each other. “I can’t believe I missed it. One minute, I was getting ready, and the next, I got sick, and then…” She shudders. “Well, I guess I laid down and fell asleep.”

“It’s okay,” I assure her with an exhausted grin. “There are a thousand ways you can make it up to me.”

She smiles tiredly. “Oh, yeah?”

“Definitely,” I murmur, my gaze dropping to her lips.

I imagine I lean forward to kiss her, but the next thing I know, I’m opening my eyes to warm sunlight filtering through the bedroom.

“Rise and shine, beautiful boy,” Ella singsongs as she leans over me with the world’s most heart-stopping smile on her face.

“What happened? I swear I was talking to you like five seconds ago, and it was nighttime.” I blink up at her then leisurely take in her perky nipples through the fabric of her tank top. Unable to help myself, I reach up and graze one with my thumb.

“We both fell asleep. Guess we’re getting super old.” She shivers, wiggling out of my touch. When I frown, she forces a smile as she reaches for my mouth and fiddles with my lip ring, tracing her fingertip over the metal.

“Or just super overworked.” My fingers find her waist, and my nails delve into her flesh. “We should just relax all day. And I know the perfect way to do that.” I eagerly move up to kiss her lips.

She covers my mouth with her hand, stopping me for the second time in thirty seconds.

What the hell?

“As much as I’d love to get the relaxing day started,” she says as she withdraws her hand, “I have to go to the doctor first.”

I pout. “Well, that’s no fun.”

“Neither is having sex with a sick person.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

She shakes her head as she scoots to the edge of the bed and lowers her feet to the floor. “I know, but my appointment is in like thirty minutes, and it takes fifteen just to get to the doctor’s office.” Her voice quivers toward the end.

My brow crooks as I sit up. “Something’s wrong. I can tell.”

“No, everything’s fine,” she insists as she bolts from the bed and toward the bathroom. “I just need to get my ass cleaned up and on the road. That’s all. Otherwise, I’ll miss my appointment.” With that, she shuts the door, leaving me utterly confused.

My confusion only increases when she leaves the house so quickly she barely kisses me good-bye. But, the real kicker is when I wander out to the garage and see that her GTO is still parked beside my Chevelle.

“So what the hell did she drive to the doctor’s office with?” Scratching my head, I push on the garage opener. Once the door is fully open, I hike down the driveway toward Ethan and Lila’s house.

The neighborhood is completely different from where Ella and I grew up. Instead of drug dealers on the street corners and old cars decorating the yards, there are Christmas decorations everywhere and green grass. The entire neighborhood is decked out with holiday decorations: Christmas trees, tinsel, lights, snowman created from artificial snow. The only two on the block that don’t declare the holiday cheer are Ethan’s and mine. Usually, it’s not that big of a deal—I’m never home for too long around the holidays to let it bother me—but this year is different.

I need to change some stuff.

Start some traditions.

I give a quick glimpse into their garage and note that Ethan’s truck is inside, but Lila’s car is missing. Maybe Lila drove her. The question is, why?

Deciding I need to get to the bottom of what’s going on, I go straight to the source. I bang on the front door of Ethan and Lila’s house as hard as I can. Ethan has turned into the heaviest sleeper over the last couple of years, and knowing this, I continue to ring the doorbell over and over again until he finally throws open the front door.

He has bags under his eyes, his brown hair is disheveled, and he looks cranky as shit. “What the fuck, man?” Ethan says as he tugs a T-shirt over his head.

“What? No welcome home hug?” I joke. While he blinks, unimpressed, I squeeze by him and let myself into his home.

“Come in,” he mutters grumpily as he closes the door behind me.

I grin at him, noting the air smells like cookies. “Did Lila bake this morning?”

“Chocolate chip, I think,” he says as he heads across the living room. “You are way too cheery for me this morning.”

“Don’t pretend you didn’t miss my cheeriness.”

He rolls his eyes yet doesn’t deny it.

I follow him inside the kitchen and snatch three cookies off a plate that’s on the table. As much as I love Ella, Lila has turned into a fantastic cook, and just the smell of the cookies causes my mouth to salivate.

“Do you know how lucky you are to get to eat this stuff every day?” I say as I stuff my mouth full of chocolate gooiness. “I usually get fast food for breakfast.”

“Of course I know how lucky I am,” he snaps, snatching up a cookie himself. “I think about it all the damn time.”

I raise my hands up. “Whoa. Sorry, man. I didn’t mean to push a button.”

He blows out a breath as he slumps down on a stool by the counter. “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to go all mad crazy on you.” He lowers his head into his hands. “I’m just stressed out about shit.”

I take another bite of the cookie. “Is this about the marriage thing?”

His head whips up, his face draining of color. “How did you know about that?”

“Ella told me.”

“But how did she know about it?”

I break off a corner of one of the cookies and pop it into my mouth. “Um, because you guys are always fighting about it.”

“Wait? What marriage thing are you talking about?”

“Well, I was talking about how you two are always arguing over marriage.” I lick off a glob of melted chocolate from my hand. “But now I’m starting to wonder if it’s something else.”

If it’s possible, he looks even paler. “Can I show you something?” he asks intensely.

I briefly hesitate. “Depends on what that something is. Because you have this weird look on your face that’s kind of creeping me out.”

“Come on, man. I’m being serious.” He pushes back from the counter and stands up from the seat. “I need to show somebody something; otherwise, I’m going to fucking lose my goddamn mind.”

“Oh, fine.” I scarf down the rest of the cookie. “I’ll let you pile your secret on me, just as long as you tell me why Lila took Ella to the doctor this morning.”

He shrugs as we walk out of the kitchen. “Beats the shit out of me.” He pauses in front of the stairway. “Wait. I think Lila said something about going to town and doing something.”

I grip at the railing. “Like what?”

“That, I can’t help you with.” He starts up the stairs.

“Well, that doesn’t help much,” I say as I trudge after him.

“Sorry, but it’s all I got.” He turns right when we reach the top of the stairway and heads down the hallway toward his bedroom. “The two of them are literally driving me crazy, man. I mean, I love Lila, and Ella is okay sometimes, but”—he glances over his shoulder at me as he pushes open the bedroom door—“I spend all my time with the two of them, and I’m starting to go nuts with all their girlie crap.”

“Don’t you have any other guys to hang out with?” I ask as he enters his bedroom.

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, because my sparkling personality gets me so many friends.”

I laugh while I wander in after him, glancing around his room at the photos of Lila and him on the wall. The two of them have gotten to spend so much time together that it makes me feel jealous. No more, though. No more missing birthdays, anniversaries, or holidays.

“Well, I might be around a little bit more.”

His brows elevate as he opens the top dresser drawer. “Really? You get Mike to ease up on the touring or something?”

I shake my head. “I can’t really say anything for sure yet. I have to talk to Ella about stuff first.”

“Well, I hope it works out that you aren’t gone all the time,” he says as he reaches into the drawer. “For her sake and mine.”

I open my mouth to retort a funny comeback about him being needy, but once I catch sight of what he has in his hand, my humor vanishes. “You really have lost your damn mind, haven’t you?”

He looks absolutely horrified as he nods. “I think I’m in deep shit.”