Chapter Thirteen

It's hard to disappear in this world, but disappearing is what I need. So I leave my car in Santa Monica, buy a bus pass with the small amount of cash I have in my purse, and get on the first one that comes by.

I have no destination. No plan. I'm not even sure what I want to think about. All I know is that I feel broken. But I'm not sure if it's because I've been fired, because there's a baby growing inside me, or because I'm not certain what I want to do about either.

All I know for sure is that I don't want to think about any of it. Not my career. Not my family.

Not even Ryan.

I close my eyes as the bus bumps along. Not even Ryan.

Has there ever been a time since that day so long ago when I first made him eggs that I haven't thought of him? When I haven't wanted him in my head, not to mention beside me?

There hasn't, and that simple realization thrusts me back into anger. Raine did this to me. He stole something from me. Something vital. And when he did that, he poisoned everything. And I don't know how to dig out of it.

No, that's not true. I know perfectly well what I need. But going back in time really isn't practical. I can only move forward and try to figure out which twists and turns will lead me back to where I need to be.

When the bus stops near the Roosevelt Hotel, I get off, then wander down the block for a while, just strolling along the Walk of Fame.

This was my favorite place when I first moved to Los Angeles. The Hollywood area isn't glamorous. Honestly, it's kind of grungy, and even the lovely old Roosevelt Hotel feels a bit battered. Like a gemstone in a dull, unpolished setting.

Even so, that line of stars is magical, and I would buy a latte, put on my headphones, start my playlist of favorite movie soundtracks, and spend blissful hours just walking and imagining my life to come.

It's been a hell of a journey, and nothing like what I expected. I never planned to get married. Why would I when fucking around was so much fun? And kids? Way too much trouble. I was more than happy with the idea that someday my friends would have them, and I'd be the favorite babysitter who let them get away with anything.

I want to think I'm still that person. Fun, free Jamie with a huge career laid out in front of her.

But I'm not that girl anymore. And the truth is that I don't want to be. I'm still a little wild—maybe a lot—but only with Ryan. He's my anchor. My safety net. And I can't imagine a world without him.

But my career…

I sigh, looking down at the stars under my feet. How many times had I imagined my name there? Or my hand and foot prints at the Chinese Theater?

And now?

Well, now I'm not sure if I'll ever get there at all. And I can't even blame Bryan Raine. Well, actually I can. He knocked me off the path.

Still, the truth is that I can be right back on the path tomorrow if I want to. But there would be a hefty price to pay.

That's the thing about adulting. It's like online shopping. There's almost always a hidden cost.

I keep walking, trying to silence my thoughts, but I'm not having much luck. I have a very noisy brain.

And a very distractible one. At the moment, it keeps pulling my eyes away from the stars and toward little kids and pregnant women. Apparently, they're everywhere.

Or I'm just more prone to noticing them now.

With a sigh, I cross the street to a coffee shop, hoping they have some sort of non-coffee drink, too. But the smell pushes me back onto the street the moment I open the door.

I fight a gag reflex and keep on walking, feeling unreasonably weepy.

Pregnancy changes everything.

With a sigh, I walk back to the Roosevelt and cut through to the back parking area, finally certain of where I need to go.

The valet calls me a cab, and I climb in, give him the address, then close my eyes, and let the last little bits of doubt fizzle away.

* * * *

I'm half-groggy in bed when I hear the key in the lock. I'm completely empty from crying and my head is fuzzy, but I stumble out of the bedroom to see the door open and Ryan step in.

"You tracked me? How did you track me?"

He shakes his head. "No, Kitten. I just realized that I'd known all along where you'd go."

He looks around my old apartment, his expression nostalgic. I bought it when the building went condo and now I use it for both office space and a guest house when friends come to town.

"Are you mad?"

He shakes his head, then comes to me, but he doesn't pull me close. "Of course not. Frustrated, maybe, that I can't ever really know what's going on in that head of yours. And maybe a little stung that you came here instead of coming home to me."

"I'm sorry. I just wanted—I don't know. The memories. Me and Nikki living here. Me being young and stupid and wild."

"You can still be as wild as you want with me." He holds out his hand, almost tentative. I take it, then yank him toward me until I'm pressed against his chest and his arms are around me, just the way they're supposed to be.

"You're my safety net." I blink back tears. "Ryan—you know—I mean, I hope you know—that I'd never intentionally hurt you."

"Oh, baby." His arms tighten around me and he kisses my forehead.

"I thought about it," I say, sniffling against his shoulder. "I could go to the clinic, then call you from there. That door was wide open, you know? Beckoning. And it would make everything right again. I could get the movie back. I could be Jamie again, not mommy. It would be like resetting the scoreboard for everything. Except you."

I lean back, meeting his eyes. "You'd agree because you love me, but things would change."

"Kitten, no. If it's important to you—"

"Wait. Let me finish, okay? I already know that you'd understand. That you'd be okay with it because you get what being pregnant could do to my career at this stage. How it could mess up all of my plans. The dreams I had as a kid. The rocket ride that was just about to start."

I stroke his cheek, smiling at the stubble. "I know you would agree because that's who you are. And so, yeah. I came here, and I climbed into my old bed, and I thought about it. But I didn't do it."

I see the almost imperceptible nod of his head.

"I couldn't. I know how much family means to you. I know how much you want a baby."

"I don't want anyone more than I want you."

I smile, my heart swelling a little. "I know that, too."

"Jamie, if you decided not to terminate because of me—"

"I did, though. But that was only part of it," I add, hurrying on before he can interrupt. "The thing is… I want it, too. A baby, I mean. I really, really do."

"Oh, Kitten." He brushes my cheek, then tugs me to the sofa. "I never doubted that. Never doubted that we'd have a family, and that you wanted it, too. But are you sure you want it now?"

I look into those ice-blue eyes, trying to read the answer he expects. But I can't. For better or for worse, he's really left this decision to me.

"I was an only child," I say, shifting to sit sideways so my feet are in his lap. "I don't really get the whole sibling thing, but I do know how much better my life was once Nikki and Ollie were in it. They were my sister and brother. My family. And, yeah, I want this little niblet. And unless I truly suck at mothering, I'll probably want another one."

His brows rise, and I point a stern finger. "But no more than two. Even with help, Nikki and Damien are outnumbered. That's scary shit sometimes."

He laughs. "Moira and I made a pretty good team. I think two is the perfect number." He cups my ankle. "But baby, are you sure? I don't like the idea of you giving up your dream."

"I'm not," I tell him. "I can still work. And the mega-movie star thing?" I shrug. "Well, I almost got there with Intercontinental. Nothing can take that away."

I watch his face and can tell that even though he's understanding me, he's still not sure. Well, he's not sure that I'm sure.

"People change, Ryan," I say. "Being on the big screen was my dream when I was thirteen years old. Before that, I wanted to be a fighter pilot. I don't even remember what movie I'd seen, but damn I wanted to fly like that." I pull a face. "Maybe that's why I like sex so much. That rush."

He chuckles. "I'll have to see if I can figure out what movie that might have been."

"Gold star if you do. But here's the thing. The little kid dream didn't stick. The thirteen-year-old's dream lingered, except it was still just a dream. And that thirteen-year-old girl didn't factor in how amazing it is to have a husband who loves her. And—I swear, I'm not keeping the baby for you. But I am keeping it because of you. At least a little."

I see the way his throat moves, and I think I see a tear in the corner of his eyes when he whispers, "Kitten."

"You make me have different dreams, Ryan." My voice is barely more than a whisper. "I guess that's part of what love does. And it's a good part. A very good part."

"Yes," he says. "It is."

I scoot closer, then climb into his lap. "And I can still act. Maybe one day I'll even be huge, and that'll be super fun, except that this one will hate me for putting him in the spotlight." I squeeze his hands. "Either way, I'm good. Really."

"Him?"

"Well, duh. It's obvious, isn't it?"

His brow furrows, and I roll my eyes. "Men," I say. "It's that damn Y chromosome that has always made me an emotional wreck. So clearly the niblet in my belly is going to be all male. And considering what a mess I've been, he'll be at least as masculine as his father."

"God, but I love you."

I toss him a smirk. "I hope so. Hell, I'm about to get as big as a house. Are you sure you're going to want to put up with a woman who waddles?"

He strokes my hair, then kisses my forehead. "Very sure."

I snuggle closer, then pull his head down for a soft sweet kiss. "I love you," I whisper.

"I know." He presses his palm to my belly. "I love you, too. Both of you." Then he grins. "This is going to be a hell of an adventure."

I laugh. "Yeah," I say. "And I really can't wait."