Beauty Awakened Page 3

  “I mean, what am I supposed to tell HIM when I’m asked to give an accounting of my life?” The loathing was almost tangible in the older man’s reply. “How am I supposed to look HIM in the eye and admit I couldn’t even save my son’s soul?”

  Every muscle in Nathan’s body coiled taught with rage. “What kind of shitty god blames a person for being what they were born to be? And who the fuck judges someone on how another person lived their life?”

  “Don’t you dare spew your filthy blasphemy here.” The blood pressure and oxygen monitors beeped, then louder and more insistently. “Don’t let HIS name cross your disgusting lips.”

  Part of Nathan was recoiling. Stuck in the past, with the young man who had cowered at these accusations. Another bit ached like a festering wound. Was love from his own father really too much to ask for?

  He wouldn’t let either pain show here. He stood, shoving his chair back in the process, and stepped out of the way of the nurse who rushed into the room. “I hope when you face your god, he forces you to accept and live every piece of bigotry and scorn you’ve cast on others. I pray to anyone listening that you have to feel what you’ve made me live through.”

  “Get out. Now.” His father roared.

  The nurse cast a glare at Nathan, as she tried to coax the older man to calm down.

  Nathan didn’t need the last word here, though it was tempting to retort with See you in hell. He turned on his toe and stalked from the room.

  Numbness sped through his limbs, and nausea churned in his gut as he got in his rental car and drove away. So much for fucking reconciliation.

  He wouldn’t break over this, regardless of the millions of fractures racing through his soul. This moment wouldn’t define him.

  He hammered the side of his fist against the steering wheel, and screamed at the top of his lungs. He didn’t stop until his throat was raw and his lungs burned and his ears were ringing.

  It didn’t help.

  TARA WAS PRETTY SURE so many sleepless nights were bad for the baby. When Nathan texted her at almost two in the morning, asking her to call back when the timing was good, she was already awake.

  Ambivalence surged inside at his note. She wanted to talk to him. Was desperate to hear his voice.

  And she was terrified of what she needed to say. The longer she waited, the worse it would be. She didn’t want to be saying It was never the right time, six months down the line.

  This wasn’t the same as what Nathan had done. Him telling her sooner wouldn’t have changed how people reacted. Regardless of how he took the news, her hiding this would definitely make things worse when he finally found out.

  She’d tell him tonight. They’d talk. They’d figure out what to do to mend the rift between them. She’d get him back here, and they could make plans for the future.

  Tara grasped the resolve, and dialed his number.

  “Hey, Bella.”

  She could hear the relief, exhaustion, and sadness all in the simple greeting. Still, hearing his voice was soothing. Why were they fighting again? She knew, but in this moment it was easy to shove it aside. “Hey. I’m glad you texted. How’d it go?” She’d share her news, but he’d have his own about his father, and that was important too.

  His sigh was hollow and loud in her ear, and a short chuckle followed. “Not well. Not even close.”

  “I’m so sorry. Are you up for sharing details?”

  “There’s not much to say. He flung insults at me, told me it was my fault he was going to hell, and ordered me to leave. Not that I needed a reason by that point.”

  Her heart cracked on Nathan’s behalf. Her parents didn’t quite get the way her relationship worked, but there was no universe where she could imagine them cutting her out of their life, or the other way around. “You deserve better.”

  “Yeah, I do. It’s nice to hear it from you, though. It doesn’t matter. In a way I wish I’d never come, but at least now I don’t have to wonder, right?” His laugh was strained. “I don’t want to be in this city anymore. I’ll say I’m sorry however many times I need to, to come home. And I mean it.”

  “I know, and while I’m still not okay with the lie, I forgive it. I want to move past it. I miss you.” Christ, this was bad timing. Not the reconciliation, but her news. “You need to know something first. It doesn’t change my mind, but I have to get it out there, and I wish there was a better moment to do it, but I can’t get mad at you for keeping a secret, then not tell you this.”

  The silence that stretched over the line was deafening. She grabbed a pillow to hug, and fiddled with a loose thread. “Are you there?” she asked.

  “Yeah. What’s up?”

  She didn’t want to do things this way. “I’m pregnant.” She forced out the words, and held her breath.

  More silence, aside from an impossible-to-interpret huff.

  She tried to wait for a response. Seconds ticked away, and someone screamed on the TV. “There’s a teensy tiny possibility it’s Nick’s.” The words tumbled out without her permission. “I mean, it’s probably most definitely yours, but you should know...”

  “Are you having blood tests done to find out?”

  She cringed at the flat question. “I hadn’t really thought about it. I suppose if it comes down to that, I will. Nick didn’t seem concerned one way or the other.” Fuck, she shouldn’t have said that.

  “You told him first.” Nathan’s hurt was tinged with something darker.

  “I didn’t mean to. It just came out.” She wouldn’t grovel for this. She hadn’t done anything wrong. “He needed to know, too. And it was kind of a trial run. I wasn’t sure how you’d react.”

  “Oh.”

  She scrubbed her face in frustration. “I’m still not sure how you’re reacting.”

  “You know I never wanted kids. I can’t. Not after what I’ve put up with. Not with what so many children go through.”

  This was sliding downhill so fast. Tara needed to bring things under control. This was a concern she could address. “We’ll be good parents.”

  “We’re barely on speaking terms right now.” Nathan’s tone was growing harder. The hard set of his jaw was almost audible.

  “We fought. It happens. We also just made up.” Though, that might not last long if things continued down this path.

  He sighed again, making her wince. “This is another human being we’re talking about. Next time you get pissed off, do you lock me out of their bedroom the way you did with the YouTube account?”

  Irritation surged inside. “No. Because this is a baby. Another human being.” What the fuck is wrong with you? She summoned her restraint to keep the question to herself. “You’re upset.”

  “I don’t know what I am. It might not even be mine.”

  She buried her face in the pillow and growled, then brought the phone back to her ear again. “Do you know what Nick said when I told him?” Bad direction to take things. Not that she saw any good alternatives.

  “What?” Nathan spat the word out. “What did this glorious beast of a man, who’s perfect in every fucking way, say when you told him you may or may not be carrying his child?”

  “You know what? Forget it.” She flung the pillow at the ground so hard it bounced several feet. “You don’t have to like the situation. You don’t have to come home. I wish you and that you would, but I won’t force you into fatherhood if it makes you miserable. I’d give up the world for you, but I won’t surrender my baby.”

  “I’m not asking you to.” There was a hint of softness, finally.

  It was too little too late. “No. You’re sulking instead. You don’t want to raise a child? I’m sure as fuck not going to force that on you. And if I feel like you’re coming back here in spite of the baby, that you’re lying about being interested to get back into my life...”

  “Then what?”

  “Don’t make me finish that thought.” Please, God, don’t make me say it. She’d draw the line if she had to, but even th
inking the phrase I’ll cut you out of our lives for good, scraped her insides raw.

  “Fine. I won’t.” He disconnected.

  Tara flung her phone at the couch, where it bounced and joined the pillow on the floor. FUCK.

  Chapter Five

  Tara was grateful to be spending Christmas Eve with her family. A warm glow of sanity sang inside, as she sat at her parent’s dining room table. Her mother was next to her, with her father at the head of the table.

  Antonio was here with Emily and Justin, the way he had been for the last two years.

  Tara tried to ignore the stab of jealousy at how happy they looked. Him enjoying the evening wasn’t responsible for her being without Nathan.

  Telling herself that didn’t make it ache any less when she saw the little shared touches, the smiles, the murmured affections that slipped between Italian and English.

  She didn’t want to be here alone. That wasn’t quite right. She didn’t want to be doing anything without Nathan.

  The warm cheer of her family, the joy of the holiday, the delicious spread of fish and vegetables... none of it erased the emptiness inside. The vacuum that had gotten worse since the not-quite-fight with Nathan over the baby.

  “Did you get any clams?” Her mother’s question jarred Tara back to the conversation.

  Tara shook her head. “I’m all right, thank you.”

  “I know the point is to eat light this evening, but you have to have more than olives.” There was a hint of scolding to her father’s teasing tone.

  Apparently the comment was enough to drag Antonio’s attention from his paramours. He studied her with a furrowed brow. “Since when do you like olives?”

  A hint of defensiveness snaked inside. “I don’t know. I just had a craving—” Tara bit the inside of her cheek. She could have used better phrasing. This wasn’t the way she wanted to tell her family she was pregnant.

  “What other sorts of cravings do you have?” The way her mother watched her with wide eyes made Tara hide a wince.

  Too late. Tara was about to miss being here alone and mostly ignored. “Just ask, Mom.” The retort came out more sharply than she intended.

  “Don’t take that tone with your mother.” Now her father was scolding.

  Justin and Emily had become fascinated by their plates.

  “Don’t get upset with her.” Her mother refilled Tara’s water glass and added another serving of vegetables to her plate, along with a generous helping of seafood risotto. “It’s hormones.”

  Tara resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “It’s not hormones.” Maybe it was a little. “But yes, to the unasked question.”

  “I knew it.” Her mother squealed. She patted Tara’s stomach. “ I knew one of you would give me grand babies.”

  Congratulations erupted from Antonio’s side of the table. Tara swore she heard relief in Emily’s voice. This wasn’t the time to tell her Tara having a baby probably wouldn’t lessen the questions Emily got about the same.

  “When’s Nathan coming back? How far along are you? Have the two of you started picking names? Does he have family names he wants to use? Wouldn't it be wonderful to name her after your grandmother?” Her mother’s questions all ran together.

  “Are you finally going to give up this foolish lifestyle of yours, so your baby grows up in a normal household?” Her father’s stern tone cut through it all.

  Antonio’s growl was soft but distinct.

  Tara’s blood ran cold. Hadn’t they moved past this years ago? Maybe she misunderstood the question. This wasn’t the time to jump to conclusions. “My lifestyle? The tattooing or the video blogging? That’s how I earn a living.”

  “You know that’s not what I mean.” Dad locked a glare on her.

  She did. “I don’t. I want to hear you say it.” Was she really picking a fight at Christmas Eve dinner? No. She was asking for clarification from a parent she thought supported and understood his children.

  “Is it even Nathan’s?” Dad asked.

  Christ, the tension was so heavy it made Tara’s gut churn. The older man glaring at her, daring her to talk back, didn’t help, either. “Does it matter?” Even if she was certain, she wasn’t in the mood to say so.

  “And this is what I mean. This... bed hopping the two of you do. This refusing to settle down like normal people. We didn’t raise you that way.” He pushed back from the table, irritation flashing across his face. That expression terrified her as a teenager.

  Who was she kidding? It still did. But tonight, the words sliced deep, exposing indignation as well. “You raised us to be independent thinkers.”

  “To embrace who we are.” Antonio joined in. “To be loving and accepting. To not take any shit from the world around us, and own everything we do.”

  Tara wanted to hug her brother for the well-said backup. Not that she was surprised. “This isn’t a phase. I thought you understood that. The nature of my relationship, of Antonio’s, isn’t going away. It’s part of who we are.”

  “You’re adults. It’s time to stop playing games. This was whimsy and fun, and Christ knows why you waited so long for this kind of exploration, but what are you going to do? Flit from person to person when you’re in your fifties? Your seventies?”

  “Can we do this later? As a family?” Mom glanced at Justin and Emily.

  Tara was surprised Justin had stayed quiet. But she was grateful for that one. This was already a fucktastic mess, and he wasn’t the calmest temper when he was passionate about something.

  “Why?” Dad bit off the word. “If they don’t realize they’re just playthings, there are a lot of reality checks that need to happen tonight.”

  “That’s enough.” Justin slammed his palms into the table. Silverware and dishes rattled.

  Emily grabbed his hand, but fury was painted across her face too.

  “It is enough.” Tara was suck of this. “I thought you understood.”

  “We want to.” Mom’s tone was pleading.

  Dad’s fury was a mirror of Antonio’s. “There’s nothing to understand. We put up with this because we do love you, but now you’re talking about bringing a child into the world. A world which currently has a revolving door on your bedroom.”

  “Which one, no it doesn’t, my life doesn’t work that way.” It had on occasion, but Tara wasn’t going to nitpick details if he didn’t even understand the overall concept. “And two, there’s no reason my baby can’t grow up in a sex positive home.”

  “This isn’t positivity,” Dad barked a bitter laugh. “This is whoring and immaturity.”

  Tara was so furious and hurt she couldn’t find words. “I’m done here.”

  “So are we.” Antonio stood.

  Tara had to get out of this house. She stormed from the room with her head held high, refusing to let anything but her rage show, and not daring to look back and see if Antonio and the others followed.

  When she stepped outside, she let a sobbing gasp escape. She wanted to slam the door, but Antonio caught it

  “You can still do the honors if you want,” he said with a thin smile when Justin and Emily were outside.

  Tara took the heavy wood door and flung it back into its frame as hard as she could. The way the frame shook wasn’t as satisfying as she thought. The wind whipped around her, sending ice rushing down her spine. It didn’t cool the heat under her skin, but it made her shiver.

  Emily shrugged into her coat, and handed over Tara’s. “You forgot this.”

  “Thanks.” Tara almost let a sob of gratitude slip. She pulled on the jacket. “I’m so sorry about all of that. I didn’t mean...” To expose her parents lack of understanding. To bring a bigoted tirade crashing down around all of them. “Merry Christmas, huh?”

  “I’d say better you than me, but...” Antonio rubbed her back.

  Tara pulled him into a hug, letting his shoulder muffle her sarcastic laugh. “At least we’re fuck-ups together.”

  “I’m not letting my big sister
fight my battles for me. Not again.” A hint of teasing mingled with Antonio’s sadness.

  It was almost enough to make Tara smile as she pulled away. She wasn’t going to mention they were her battles too. “You even gave up dessert.”

  “A sacrifice worth making.”

  Justin squeezed her hand. “Come back to our place.”

  “We have ice cream,” Emily offered. “We can actually celebrate. I mean, oh my God, you’re pregnant. How incredible is that? Congratulations.”

  Tara clenched her jaw. She wanted to laugh and cry and scream all at once, at the contrast of the reception inside versus out here. In the freezing cold. Standing on the porch of the one place that was always supposed to be home. Tears pricked her eyelids, and she didn’t trust herself to reply past the lump in her throat.

  She didn’t want to be alone tonight. She shook her head and swallowed enough to talk. “I’m going to be really shitty company.”

  “Not possible,” Emily said.

  “It’s absolutely possible. Trust me. I lived with her for almost two decades.” Antonio steered Tara toward his car. “But it doesn’t matter. Give Justin your keys. You’re coming with us.”

  And now she really was going to cry. She dug her car keys from her purse and handed them over.

  Emily tried to offer her the front seat, but she refused. She sat in the back of the car, letting the tears stream silently down her cheeks as her brother drove. She didn’t know where to start in unpacking her thoughts. She just wanted everything that hurt to stop.

  NATHAN HADN’T BEEN able to keep the conversation with Tara out of his head. He didn’t know what to do. About the baby. About his relationship with her.

  The scant choice of channels on the motel TV assaulted him with Christmas specials. Stories about love and hope and family and coming together thanks to the spirit of the holiday.