Chapter 13

thirteen

Rose – Two Days Later

I smile as Diego splashes in the tub, trying to get the remaining bubbles. I cannot express how grateful I am that he still fits in the baby bathtub I bought at a flea market for a dollar fifty.

He’s still too little to shower, and the kitchen sink is just too small for him. I’m not sure what I’m going to do when he outgrows this tub and I have to use the shower with him.

The boy loves his baths….

Mom guilt hits, knowing I won’t be able to afford a place with a tub anytime soon, but I try to ignore it. I squeeze the plastic duck floating around, making him squeal in delight when it squeaks. His dark blue eyes light up, looking just like his father’s did when he looked at me under the stars. My heart instantly aches, and I hate that it does.

It’s been two days since I last saw Noah.

I’m not sure what happened, but he’s disappeared—or, well, he’s not been around me, at least. I know he was at the daycare center—I’m not stupid. I didn’t have to look up to know he was watching me.

Maybe seeing Diego caused him to pull another runner, that wouldn’t surprise me. I mean, he saw a picture that was innocent and fled like his butt was on fire.

Diego splashes the water in my face, and I chuckle, gently booping his nose with the end of my finger, making him giggle. I lift him out of the water, and place him on the towel I laid out for him.

He kicks his arms and legs, and then tries to roll over to crawl away, still unable to walk.

I giggle. “No, you don’t, squishy bum," I coo, and quickly wrap him up in his towel, and stand before he can get away.

Carefully, I take him to his room, lie him on the small changing table, and dry him while humming “My Petal.” Diego watches my every move, smiling, kicking his arms and legs, and I lather him up with his baby lotion.

Carefully, I clean underneath his nails, then cream his bottom up, and put on a diaper, before dressing him in his guitar print onesie. I grin when he squeezes his hands and babbles, “Ma-ma-ma-ma.”

Knowing exactly what he wants, I pick him up and hold him close, allowing him to play with my hair as I sit on the secondhand rocking chair.

I unbutton my top—Noah’s black button-down shirt, to be precise—and he latches on, his right hand gripping my necklace as I nurse him before bed. He’s on some solids now but still likes to nurse in the evenings, and drinks expressed bottled milk during the day.

After I gave birth, I didn’t have a choice in nursing him. I didn’t have money for formula, and the hospital had donated a hand breast pump. Honestly, the bond I had with Diego from nursing was probably the best feeling in the world, though I don’t think it’ll be long before he stops, and it’s a little disheartening to think of.

He’s growing up, and I hate it, but love to watch, all at the same time.

It doesn’t take long before he falls asleep, and I smile, pulling my bra back in place, and gently lift him over my shoulder, rubbing his back as he snores away.

He lets out a few silent burps in his sleep, making me smile, but I continue giving him a back rub for about ten minutes, not wanting him to get a bellyache.

Reluctantly, when I know he’s deeply settled, I slowly stand and walk over to his crib. I peel back his cloud sheets and gently lay him down, giving him the bear stuffie Noah gave me back when things were good.

Diego grabs it instantly in his sleep, and I smile. I bend down a little and lean against the side of the crib to watch him for a minute.

I’ve done everything I can for this boy. No matter the cost, I ensured he had everything he needed, even if it meant I didn’t eat for the night. Yes, most of his stuff is secondhand, but it’s all in good condition. The only thing I bought new was the crib. It's dark oak and cost me nearly all of my savings, but it’s worth it because it turns into a toddler bed, which will come in handy.

Lightly, I stroke Diego’s messy red hair out of his face, taking in his sleeping features.

He’s looking more and more like Noah by the day, despite having my hair color and freckles, and it hurts because I miss that man so much. Seeing him after trying to lock him in a box has just opened a can of worms I can’t seem to close again.

Why did he do this to us?

We could have been so happy right now, not struggling day by day, crying myself to sleep at night, or well, I could have been. I thought I meant something to him, that he had loved me as much as I loved him.

I’d somehow convinced myself that he got scared by how hurt he must have felt seeing that photo. I made excuses for him until yesterday, when I broke down and decided to put his name in the search engine online.

The man I fell in love with is well and truly gone.

He’s been living it up, partying, dating, and making a name for himself. There are several photos of him cozying up with women all over him.

Over the two years, there was a rumor going around that he was married, and to this day, people swear he is because of his lyrics, and then others deny it because he’s dated them and bedded them.

I must have been the only one completely and unconditionally in love, because the thought of letting another man even place his lips near my ear makes me want to retch.

My phone ringing from the living room snaps me out of it, and I carefully kiss Diego’s head before leaving his room, ensuring his nightlight is on.

I run to where my phone is charging and grab it, only to sigh and see an unknown number. Instantly, I know it’s my dad.

After he unblocked me to reach me, I blocked him. Since then, he’s been calling me on private numbers, so I can’t block any numbers he calls me from.

Shaking my head, I answer it, but before I can chew him out for giving Alejandro and Noah the addresses to my jobs, he speaks up.

“Look, my Little Rose, I know you’re probably mad at me, and I wouldn’t blame you, but Al, he wanted to make amends, and if I’m honest, I was hoping you’d kick him where the sun doesn’t shine for allowing Vanessa to hit you.” I can’t help the snort as he sighs. “Vanessa is banned from the property and the business until further notice. I didn’t know she hit you while you were pregnant, Rose. I would have set her straight immediately if I had known.”

I twitch my nose, trying to control my emotions, and whisper, “You gave me an ultimatum and basically kicked me out, Dad. Everyone thought the photo was the reason.”

“I know,” he admits, “but I’m going to make it right. I’m going to ensure people know I tried to force you into an abortion because of my fears.”

I shake my head, wiping the fallen tears, not knowing what to say to his words, so much hurt, anger, and resentment still overwhelming me.

“Dad,” I start, but he cuts me off.

“Noah believes you had a child with someone else,” he quickly says, and I sit down in shock, and stutter, “Wha…what?”

Dad clears his throat. “Gina was in Fremont visiting a college last year, the same college she not so shockingly got kicked out of after being caught in an intimate position with a professor.” I blink and nod, not at all shocked by that, and Dad continues, “I spoke to Noah, sweetheart. He mentioned Gina. She called and claimed to have seen you, and told him you were four months pregnant; you gave birth not long after her visit.”

I scoff. “So he believed his sister, again ….”

I can’t help the anger in my voice. That’s twice he’s done this to me, twice he’s listened to his sister, allowing her to destroy us.

I get it; she’s his blood, his little sister, and I’d understand him taking her word if she was sweet, kind, and innocent , but she’s not; she’s a bitch and a lying whore!

“Sweetheart, I get it. I do. You have every right to be upset, to feel hurt. I, your brother, Vanessa, we all turned against you, and the one person you thought you could rely on, who promised you always and forever, broke you; he listened to someone who has tried to split you up for years, and left, cutting you off, even though your life revolved around each other.”

I wipe away the angry tears. "Dad, I just can’t; it’s all too much….”

He interjects, “You're hurt, you're angry and upset, and you have every right to be. You get to be mad, you get to lash out, but sweetheart, he….” My dad sighs, and then admits, “He asked for your hand in marriage on prom night….”

More tears fall, and I shake my head and whisper, “And yet he left me, believing an innocent photo.”

Dad hums and agrees, “He did.” I wipe my cheeks, my eyes going to the photo of me and Noah from that night, smiling in each other’s arms. Dad states, “He ran scared. He was a nearly nineteen-year-old boy, and had realized just how much you meant to him. Seeing that picture showed him how much pain you could cause, and it scared the living shit outta him. He never believed it, Rose. I spoke to his friends yesterday after I called him; he made himself believe you’d do that to him to help ease the guilt he felt for leaving. As soon as he got on the bus, he knew he messed up but decided then and there that he didn’t deserve you. By the time Gina had seen you, he was so deep into believing the photo, he didn’t think to question how she’d know what a four-month bump would look like.”

I sniffle. “That’s no excuse, Dad.”

He agrees, “It’s not, and you get to punish him however you like, just like how you get to decide whether you want a relationship with me, your brother, and Vanessa. You were the one who was hurt, and I’m not going to take those feelings from you, but all I ask, my Little Rose, is that you hear Noah out, and remember your love you held for each other. Remember that Diego deserves to know his father, and that he should most definitely have a party.”

I laugh a watery laugh. “Smooth, Dad….”

He chuckles. “I thought so, but I mean every word, Rose. You and Noah, as much as I hated it, I knew you two were meant to be, and I still believe you are. I just don’t want you to give up and regret it. As for Diego’s party, I’ll make sure your brother won’t be there, please, sweetheart….”

I sigh, his words ringing with truth, and I rasp, “I’ll think about it….”

He thanked me before asking several questions about Diego and how he was doing before again begging me to think about the party.

I promise I will, then hang up, knowing I have three assignments to complete and a load of laundry to do.

Just as I stand to grab my bag from the kitchen counter, a knock sounds at the door, and I silently groan, knowing it could be Mrs. Cannon, back early.

I look down and ensure Noah’s black button-down shirt covers me enough. I nod to myself and unlock the door, opening it without looking in the peephole, which I think I really should have….

Instead of meeting Mrs. Cannon’s kind eyes, my eyes lock on a hard chest, and I look up and swallow hard.

Noah grips the door frame, looking over my body. My eyes again go to his forearm tattoo and his ring finger, before clearing my throat and looking down.

I know my dad asked for me to give him a chance to explain but I…crap….

He owns too much of me for me to do that. I hurt too much….

Just as I think it, Noah mumbles, “Fuck it,” and I look up just as he grabs my face with his hands, and presses his lips against mine, his lip ring cool against my mouth.

I freeze up for a moment, gasping in shock, giving him the opportunity to shove his tongue into my mouth, tangling it with mine. I feel his tongue bar, and I moan like the little hussy I am, and begin to melt before, suddenly, his lips are gone, and I open my eyes.

Noah groans, grabbing his hair, and whispers, “Fuck, fuck, fuck….”

Tears begin to well up, my pain taking over, and I snap, “Seriously, you’re freaking out over kissing me when you’re the one who left!”

He looks my way, and the torment in his eyes is a kick in the gut.