“I’m trying to lay off caffeine,” she says, patting her pregnant belly. “Do you guys have any freshly squeezed juice?”

  I grimace. “Sorry, we’ve only got the good ol’ stuff from frozen concentrate.”

  She laughs. “Actually, you know what? I’m fine with that. I used to drink it all the time as a kid, and I could use the pick-me-up.”

  I nod. “One old-fashioned orange juice coming right up.”

  When I return with her juice, I bring her a menu and tidy up nearby in case she has any questions.

  “Ow. You stop that,” she says, looking down at her belly.

  I chuckle. “Is your baby kicking?”

  “Yes,” she groans. “He’s lodged his foot right up into my ribs and is using them as a soccer ball.” She leans lower. “Stop all that kicking. Don’t you know you’re meant to be a basketball star?”

  So I guessed right then. She must be with one of the guys.

  “His father is here practicing for the Olympics?”

  She looks up and nods, her smile faltering slightly. She looks wary of sharing that information with me, and I get it; if he’s a professional athlete, she’s probably worried about too much information getting out to the press. Maybe she’s even trying to keep this pregnancy under wraps.

  “Secret’s safe with me,” I assure her, in case that’s what she’s worried about. “If you told me the father’s name, I probably wouldn’t even recognize it. I’m not the biggest basketball fan.”

  “Really? God, I love it. I actually played back in college.”

  My brows shoot up. “Dang, then that baby really is going to be a basketball star.”

  She laughs then winces again, pressing on the top of her stomach where the baby must be kicking. “That is if I survive the rest of this pregnancy.”

  “How far along are you?”

  “Seven months, though it doesn’t feel like it’s been that long. I actually didn’t know about it until well into the second trimester.”

  I lean in. “Really?”

  She shrugs. “I didn’t have any symptoms. It wasn’t until I went in for my annual and they did a pregnancy test that I found out.”

  “No way.”

  She nods, and her expression looks as if she still can’t believe it herself.

  “He’s paying me back for it though. The first few months were easy, but these last ones are going to be hell. He was already huge on the last ultrasound I had. Doctor warned he could be close to ten pounds by my due date.”

  My jaw drops.

  “And don’t even get me started on the heartburn.”

  My eyes widen, and she cracks up.

  “I’m terrifying you, aren’t I?”

  “Only a little…”

  She shakes her head playfully and reaches for her menu. “Ignore me. It’s really not that bad. The baby is the easy part compared to his father. How are your pancakes here?”

  “Delicious. Get them with the whipped cream.”

  She slaps the menu back onto the counter and wiggles her eyebrows at me. “Yes. That. Bring me a big stack please.”

  I chuckle as I write down the order so I can pass it back for Cook. After, I do a quick pass around the diner, making sure everyone’s got what they need. I refill waters and coffees and clear a table. When I’m done, I return to the woman and ask if she’s still doing okay.

  “Oh, fine. Yeah.”

  She smiles tightly and puts down her phone. She must not have been enjoying whatever she was looking at.

  I wonder if it has something to do with the guy she’s here for. I tip my head and study her. “Earlier, you mentioned the baby is the easy part compared to his father?”

  She frowns in confusion, then it clicks for her. “Oh right. Yeah. He’s…we’re…”

  She trails off, and I throw her a bone. “Sounds complicated.”

  She hums. “Like you wouldn’t believe.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Hey, it’s fine. It’ll shake out eventually. Somehow.”

  I lean in closer, careful no one else can hear us. “I actually know some of the guys. They come in here and eat. I’ve become friends with Leanna, too—do you know her?”

  Her eyes light up. “Leanna? Yes. She’s a sweetheart. I didn’t realize she was here in Texas with Trey. I would have asked her to breakfast.”

  “You might still see her. She comes in most days to hang out while Trey is busy.”

  She nods and grabs her juice, taking a small sip.

  Then her eyebrows pinch together as if she’s mulling something over. Finally, she sets her juice down and looks up to ask me gently, “Has Ben come in to eat?”

  “Oh.”

  I wasn’t expecting her to ask about him directly. I haven’t had to outright lie to anyone about our relationship yet, and I don’t have a ready-made explanation on the tip of my tongue.

  She misunderstands my delay though.

  “I guess you might not know his name if you aren’t a big basketball fan. He’s one of the only white guys on the team though. Tall, obviously. Brown hair?”

  I swallow and nod. “Yeah. He’s been in once or twice.”

  “So then you’ve met him.”

  Maybe I’m a little groggy this morning. I didn’t sleep well last night. I can’t seem to understand what she’s trying to tell me.

  “Met him?” I repeat, trying to get the pieces to fall into place.

  “The baby’s father.”

  “Ben Castillo?”

  She nods. “So then you do know him?”

  My gaze loses focus as the revelation floods my mind. Betrayal and deceit rush in, drowning me from the inside, and I can’t breathe.

  “Are you okay?”

  Her voice sounds miles away, and I can only nod as I turn away from the counter and stumble toward the bathroom.

  Her hand shoots out to grab on to my forearm, and it’s as searing as a branding iron.

  “Please don’t say anything to the press. I mean, you seem trustworthy enough, but I really didn’t mean to share this much, and you have to understand…he’s pretty famous. If word got out…” She shudders at the thought.

  “I…” I clear my throat. “I won’t.”

  Then I shake her hand off me and continue to the bathroom. I have no recollection of getting from my spot behind the counter to the inside of a stall, but I slide down onto the toilet seat and drop my head into my hands, stifling my sobs. Tears pour down, never-ending and painful. I can’t catch my breath. I can’t stop shaking. I can’t begin to process how this could have happened.

  Ben got a woman pregnant. Ben is going to be a dad. Ben lied to me. Ben is a cheater. Ben made me a cheater too.

  I dig the heels of my hands into my eyes, trying to stem the flow of tears, but they just keep coming.

  I feel sick to my stomach. Sick to the tips of my toes. I want to crack myself open and cut out every trace of Ben. I want to make him disappear from my body. I want to erase every memory of him. I wish I could stand at the sink and wash myself clean of him. I want him out of me. I want to scream. I want to tear things apart and storm out of town. I want to do…something. And I can’t.

  I’m on the clock, working.

  I’m the only waitress at Dale’s and there are a dozen people waiting for me to help them with their breakfast. I can’t afford to lose this job. I can’t afford to feel in this moment.

  I stand and double over, another sob racking through me before I flatten my palm on the bathroom door and steady myself, breathing deep. Please, I beg whoever will listen. Please stop.

  I unlatch the stall door and take a hesitant step forward. My chest quivers and aches. I press a hand to my stomach and take another step. I make it to the sink and stare at myself in the mirror, and there’s no disguising what a godforsaken mess Ben has made me. Splotchy cheeks. Red, swollen eyes. Shaky lips.

  I sniff and wipe my nose. I wet a paper towel with cold water and press it against my cheeks, trying to cool them down. Nothing works. Traces of Ben’s deceit live on my face and I’ll never forgive him. I walk back out of the bathroom. Blinding, fleeting memories race through my mind: soft brown hair woven between my fingers, his sharp dimple-framed smile, water raining down on us in my trailer’s tiny shower, skin sticky with sweat, hearts beating wildly, mouths colliding.

  So this is what it feels like to have your soul crushed.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Raelynn

  I sit at Nan’s bedside, staring out the window with a forgotten textbook open on my lap. She’s asleep beside me. It’s not one of her good days. Not one of mine either, I suppose.

  I watch a bird on the branch of an oak tree outside, hopping around. Flapping its wings. Trying to take off, it looks like.

  There’s a knock on the door, and I don’t turn around to see who it is. Her care team filters in and out of her room all day, and they don’t need my attention to do their job. If I’m lucky, they’ll ignore me altogether.

  “I was scared I wouldn’t be able to find you.”

  Ben’s voice is so beautifully soft, I almost forget he’s a villain.

  I stay looking out the window until I’ve conquered the shock of his arrival. Then I turn slowly and assess his presence near the door. He looks like hell. His white shirt is wrinkled. His hair is in disarray. There’re bags under his eyes and no hint of happiness on his handsome face.

  I don’t greet him. I don’t say a word, in fact.

  “I went to your trailer last night and again this morning. You weren’t at Dale’s…”

  I’ve been here with Nan ever since I left work yesterday. It was excruciating to walk out of that bathroom and finish serving Shelby. I know her name now. Shelby. I had to bring her breakfast and smile politely and ignore her curious stares at my splotchy cheeks. She tipped me in cash and I still have it stuffed into the front pocket of my diner dress. I haven’t taken it off. I sit here, smelling like Shelby’s breakfast from yesterday, and I wonder how I factor in with this convoluted mess Ben has dragged me into.

  I called in sick for my cleaning job yesterday afternoon and again today. Same with the diner. Three missed shifts already. My stomach is already grumbling, but it’s faint compared to the roar of blood in my ears, the thump of my beating heart. I look at Ben’s disheveled appearance and try to decipher the truths on his skin. I wish it were that simple.

  His sad brown eyes plead with me to speak, so I do, and my voice isn’t cutting or cruel. It’s resigned and flat, very nearly indifferent. I’m not trying to catch him in a lie or needle the truth out of him with tricks. I’m too tired for all of that.

  “The woman who’s carrying your baby came into Dale’s yesterday. I met her.”

  His eyes narrow as he takes in that information.

  So he didn’t know.

  Interesting.

  “Is it your baby she’s carrying?” I persist, needing to know.

  A long moment of hesitation, an eternity of seconds, then…

  “Yes.”

  A tear drops from the corner of my eye and I press my tongue to the roof of my mouth, trying to keep the rest at bay.

  “I’d like to know the truth now please. All of it.”

  “I should have told you about Shelby, but there…”

  “Is she your girlfriend?”

  He sighs. “My soon-to-be ex-wife.”

  Ben was married. Is married.

  “So you’re getting a divorce, but you’re currently married?”

  I want to have everything laid out crystal clear.

  “Yes.”

  “Does she know that?”

  “That we’re divorcing?” He looks offended. “Yes. Of course, Birdie.”

  I wish he would stop using my nickname. I wish he would just do me a favor and walk right back out that door.

  “I’m not guilty of the crimes you might think I am,” he continues. “I didn’t leave a pregnant wife behind in Los Angeles and start an affair with you. I would never…could never…”

  He speaks with so much vehemence, I glance over at Nan briefly to confirm she’s still sleeping. Watching her shallow, constant breaths momentarily dries my tears as Ben inches farther into the room, closing the door behind him to presumably give us more privacy. I hadn’t even thought of it.

  “Shelby and I got married very young,” he starts. “Straight out of high school. You can’t imagine the amount of pressure on me then. A young rookie in the NBA. Our marriage was the last thing on my mind, and I regret that. That’s on me. Shelby stuck by my side though, tried her best to make things work for us in the beginning. I thought we were okay—sure, looking back, I see now that I was deluding myself, because the writing was on the wall. She’d been sleeping with her trainer for two years and was getting sloppy about it. She wanted to get caught and have an out, but I was too distracted to even notice her infidelity. Around Valentine’s Day, she sat down and told me everything. Explained that she was in love with Mike and she wanted a divorce.”

  “How did you feel?” I ask, wanting to know.

  His eyebrows furrow. “Betrayed…angry. Sad.”

  “Because you still loved her?”

  His brown eyes flash with unnamed emotion as they flit to me. My stomach squeezes tight as I watch him shake his head. “Don’t think less of me, Birdie. Please. Now that I look back, our marriage was barely surviving. We were friends more than anything, but it’s taken me a long time to see that. I felt so betrayed by my partner who had vowed to be honest and faithful to me. I was so stuck on the fact that she cheated, that she could do that for so long without telling me. It seemed unforgivable.”

  “But the baby…”

  The tension leaves his face as his eyes pinch closed. He inhales and props his hands on his hips, and when he blinks his eyes open again, tears swim in the corners.

  “She’s pregnant with your son, Ben.”

  His jaw ticks and he nods. “What are the odds? Less than a lightning strike maybe. At first, she assumed the baby was Mike’s, but she and I had sex—”

  I wince and he pauses, only trudging forward when he’s sure I can handle it.

  “It was the only time we’d slept together in almost a year. Like I said, we’d drifted apart. I thought it was normal for couples to go through dry spells like that. It didn’t bother me as much as it should have.” He scrubs his hand through his hair. “I feel like I can’t emphasize enough how fucking stupid I was, how caught up in the game…I just thought we’d figure it all out eventually.”

  “But if she was sleeping with you both—”

  “They did genetic testing. It’s not Mike’s baby.”

  It’s dead silent inside my nan’s room. Out in the hall, a door opens, wheels screech and beg for grease, voices drift in and out of earshot.

  Our end is so blatantly obvious it should be written in red paint on the wall. We’re fish trying to swim upstream, wriggling and writhing in agony. I see that now. There is no way to recapture the ease of the last few weeks, the slow nights in my bed, the quiet hum of life together out in the country. We were never going to make it work, but now, with Shelby and the baby, it’s more than difficult—it’s impossible. I don’t know if they’re going to try to resolve their issues, but I know I won’t stand in their way.

  “I leave tomorrow, Birdie. For Tokyo and the Games. After, I’ll be back in Los Angeles. My schedule—”

  “Ben.”

  He steps forward, hand outstretched. “I could have my assistant take a look and—”

  “Ben.”

  He’s still trying to swim upstream, but I know better. I’ll be the one to save us the trouble. This won’t work. This fleeting affair between two star-crossed lovers. This tender love built on a bedrock of subtle lies. His and mine. I believe him now. I trust his story, but it still won’t save us.

  Even if Shelby had never showed up, this was always going to happen. He was always going to leave town without a trace. My troubles will rush in to fill the void he’ll leave, and it’ll be like he was never here in the first place.

  I push to stand on shaky legs and walk toward him slowly, caving in to the urge to wrap my arms around his middle and squeeze. My face falls against his chest, and like a flash flood, my tears come with utter abandon.

  He holds me and buries his head in the crook of my neck.

  His scent wraps around me, and I wish I could siphon it and use it like a drug when I feel especially weak in the coming weeks.

  I think I hear him whisper, “Please,” but I convince myself I’m wrong.

  I can’t do this for us if he gives me too many reasons to beg him to stay.

  In fact, I gather strength from all the reasons to push him away.

  I step back from our hug even though he resists. I keep my hands gripping his shirt at his waist and I push him back gently and then, when that doesn’t work, harder. I straighten my elbows until he’s an arm’s length away, and I look up into his sorrowful brown eyes with my jaw locked tight.

  “Little Bird.”

  In an instant, I release his shirt like he’s burned me.

  I’m shaky and dazed. I want this to end, but even still, I won’t kick him out. I won’t scream at him to go. I merely walk back to my chair and take a seat, grabbing my textbook to prop on top of my lap. I drop my gaze, look down at it, and still, his feet are in the top of my line of sight. He stays there and stays there and my tears roll down my cheeks and splash down onto the book cover, then I squeeze my eyes shut, and when I open them again, he’s gone.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Ben

  If I thought me staying in Raelynn’s life would be better for her, I’d do it in an instant. If I thought I could button up this situation with Shelby quickly, shield her from the press, give her my undivided attention, ultimately make her happy…I’d take her from Pine Hill today. Right now.

  Even looking at the hard facts, I still consider doing it. I’m a selfish man. I want to force her hand. Beg and persuade her by any means necessary. I know I could. I’ve seen the way she looks at me, those secret feelings she tries to keep buried when we’re in bed together. I know if I pressed on that tender heart of hers, I could convince her to give us a chance.