Conception (The Wellingtons #4) - Tessa Teevan Page 0,95
gone for forever.
Sunny bumps my shoulder with hers. “Not tonight, Meems. For just one night, forget about him. Let’s have fun.”
I hook my hair behind my ear and plaster on a smile. Then I loop my arm through hers. “You’re right. Forget him.”
I hold myself together most of the time. Until about halfway through the concert, when Steve Perry, shirtless and hair flowing, croons the bridge of “Stay Awhile.”
I lose it, bursting into tears that stream like molten lava down my cheeks. The proverbial dam breaks, damaged beyond repair, unleashing every last drop I’ve tried to hold in for nearly a month. Not wanting to make a scene, grateful Sunny’s off refilling her beer, I push through the row of people swaying back and forth to the music and rush out to the corridor. Finding an empty corner, I press my back against the wall and sink until my ass hits the floor, closing my eyes and resting my forehead against my bent knees.
Problem is, closing my eyes just brings Knox’s intoxicating smile to my mind. Knox, who should be here with me. Knox, who left because I was too much of a coward to put my heart on the line when it mattered the most.
Knox Wellington, who I’m pretty sure is irreplaceable. Unforgettable.
Knox, who has no idea he left something behind.
Something more than me.
“Honey, are you okay?” the sweet Southern drawl draws me from my thoughts.
When I blink my eyes open, a young couple is peering down at me. I release a shaky breath, swiping the tears off my face. “Yeah. I’m good. Thanks.” I let out a small laugh. “Bad breakup, so I’m just a tad bit emotional. Steve Perry will do that to you.”
The woman slides down next to me, the man with her smiling sympathetically.
“I’m Allison. This here’s my husband, Wade.”
He tips his baseball cap. “Nice to meet ya.”
His kind smile and Southern drawl warm my heart. He’s tall, not quite as tall as Knox, and he has a lean build. His pretty wife has killer brown hair that cascades down her back and striking brown eyes that match. It’s her smile, though, that comforts me. It’s genuine and full of concern. For me. A stranger.
“I’m Amelia. Husband, wow. You two look so young.”
She laughs it off and I’m quick to continue.
“I mean no offense, of course.”
“None taken. You’re certainly not the first to say so, and you won’t be the last. You’re right, anyway. Wade ’n I are nineteen. Just got hitched a couple of days ago.” She holds up a finger with a simple gold wedding band. “He’s leavin’ for the Army in two weeks, so we decided to take the plunge and then take a quick road trip from Alabama to see our favorite band. So this song makes me a bit weepy, too. I’ll miss the hell outta the big lug.”
“Baby,” Wade whispers. It’s soft, reverent, and damn if it doesn’t make my splintered heart fracture even more. “The girl’s been through the ringer, and this song doesn’t help. Maybe lighten the melancholy.”
I wipe my tears and give them both a smile. A real, genuine smile I feel in my bones. “No, I’m happy for you. It’ll be good to hear this song play on the radio and wonder how the two of you are doing. Where you are.”
“There are you!” Sunny’s voice interrupts us.
She’s eyeing me warily, and I’m sure she can read my face without me telling her about my breakdown. I make introductions all around and the four of us spend the rest of the night enjoying the concert. And I mean it. I enjoy every single second.
Maybe, just maybe, it’s all going to be okay.
The next morning, Sunny’s making omelets. The smell of bacon in the air causes my stomach to revolt. I dash to the bathroom just in time.
She’s instantly behind me, holding my hair back as I hurl the contents of my stomach into the toilet. Tears stream down my face with each heave until I have nothing left to lose. When I’m confident I’m finished, I flush and sit back, resting against the wall.
Sunny’s watching me with curious eyes. “You didn’t drink last night, so I know you’re not hungover. It can’t be food poisoning. We shared plates.”
I stare at her through a watery sheen.
“Oh, Meems.”
A sob escapes me. She draws me into an embrace, her hands rubbing my arms.
“I went to the doctor on Friday.” I pull back and meet her eyes. “I’m pregnant.”