Page 87 of The Bitter Rival

Stunned, I sit staring at these two amazing people. Again, I try not to give in to my overwhelming emotions. That this amazing couple would do this for me. I’ve never experienced anything like this. It’s suitable that Boom would be their grandchild. Because these incredible people feel like the parents I always wished I’d had.

Boomerang walks over to me as if sensing the overpowering sentiment which now engulfs me. Placing his big head in my lap, he looks up at me with those sweet big brown eyes. Rubbing his soft head with both of my hands, I speak to the sneaky addition to my life. “Boston, huh?” His chosen name, reminding me of Bella and Austin when I hear it.The universe will send you clues if you’re on the right path.I hear Mr. Hansen’s words repeat in my head.

“When you two head back to the states, would you mind terribly if Nancy, Boomerang, and I accompanied you?”

“We’d love that.” Gene smiles back at me, holding Sarah Beth’s hand in his.

Boomerang walks over to her, and I take a sip of my lemonade, feeling more at peace than I have since before the MS diagnosis. “So, Eugene’s your first name? Not sure how I missed that on your medical records.” I chuckle.

Laughter escapes as he winks at me and replies, “Hell, so maybe that’s the real reason for the pen name.”

CHAPTERTHIRTY-FIVE

Isabella

Acceptance. I’ve gone through all five stages of grief, and I’ve finally made it to the last.

Denial was tough. The first stage took me longer than it should have. I’d beaten myself up about allowing this man to enter my heart, knowing he was such a playboy. How could I have overlooked the way our relationship started? Why was I so dense to deny what was clearly plain for anyone to see? Sebastian Lee wasn’t the relationship type. It was merely a challenge. Once I hinted I was okay with more, he ran.

Anger lasted much longer. At times, I feel I’m still stuck there. I’m angry at myself as well, but mostly him. That he could come to my home, spend time with me, and my son, just to drive off with her. I’m angry that the thought of my becoming pregnant could’ve repulsed him so. Was it the worry that we could have another child with special needs? It’s not lost on me that having a child at my age comes with certain risks. Down Syndrome for one. But I can’t help wondering if it was the thought of being tied to me that upset him. I’m not going back there. I’ve had enough of these questions torturing me night after night when Rick left. The thing I’m the angriest about. Those damn cupcakes!

I allowed myself to believe he loved me. Those god-awful-looking things had touched me so. And for what? He had to know he already had me at that point. What reason could there have been to get my hopes up with those pitiful-looking things?

Next in the grief process was bargaining. This phase didn’t last long because this proud Irish girl isn’t begging for any man. Ever! He was the coward who couldn’t stay and have a grown-up conversation. He can suck it.

Depression enveloped me like my favorite hoodie. I wore it to bed, and it stayed on all day. I’m sure some of it remains to this day. But it’s been months since I’ve seen or heard from him, so I need to let it go. It’s a good thing I never had his number. I’m sure during this time, I would’ve texted just to have the chance at knowing he was okay. My mind would play tricks on me, thinking there had to be some other explanation for his leaving. But I remember that morning he climbed into his car with his tall beauty queen companion. Had she told him she’d seen me?

I’d tried hard to contain my grief. I didn’t know how much of an impact Sebastian’s brief interactions had on Austin. I didn’t want him concerned seeing me so devastated. I stupidly thought I was hiding my despair well until I brought dinner into Austin’s room one night just to drop the tray on the floor when I saw he was painstakingly covering every vibrant leaf on his beautiful mural in white paint.

“Austin! What’re you doing? I didn’t even get a picture of this one. It was my favorite,” I cried.

“I don’t want to look at it anymore.”

His words made tears spill from my eyes. How could I have let anyone do this to him? This was worse than the men who weren’t interested in continuing a relationship with me after meeting Austin. They never pretended to care.

In the days that followed, we picked up the pieces of our lives and tried to move on. Austin began painting a seascape on the wall. This wasn’t a serene lake stream, but a bold turbulent blue sea. I’d never seen him paint anything quite like it before. I’m not sure what inspired this project, but he seemed more settled than he’d been when he painted over the leaves, so I was glad for the diversion.

I’d picked up some extra shifts at work. I knew I could potentially bump into Sebastian there, but I tried to stay in the radiology department and packed my meals. I needed to keep my mind busy, and that chaotic ER didn’t allow for the downtime I had at home.

It wasn’t until a few weeks later that I’d heard through the grapevine that Sebastian had quit. I was shocked. Yet he’d been managing a large caseload between the two hospitals, so maybe he’d decided it was best to stick with one. One that didn’t employ the likes of me.

I considered asking Katarina if she knew what was going on, but I didn’t trust myself not to give in to any schemes she may come up with if I showed I wanted a chance to get in touch with him. I wasn’t going to bargain to have him back in my life. But I admit, the chance to hear from him in some way still pulled at my heartstrings. Even if I was so mad at him, I could spit nails.

Knock, knock.

Hmmm. That’s odd.I put down my cup of tea next to my tattered copy of Pride and Prejudice and head for the door. I don’t want to read any more of that dribble anyway. Elizabeth is way too good for the likes of Mr. Darcy, and she knows it!

I note it’s 9:00 p.m. on my watch. Who’d be coming by unannounced at this hour? Looking into the peephole, I gasp.Holy hell?

Opening the door partway, I greet my unwelcome guest. “Yes?”

“Hi, Isabella? I apologize for the late hour. May I come in?” the familiar blonde dressed immaculately in designer clothing asks from my porch.

“What could you possibly have to say to me that I should allow you into my home?” I sneer.

“Please? I won’t stay long. I’m trying to do the right thing here.”

The mystery behind her visit and this statement has me opening the door the rest of the way before I’ve completely considered the implications. “My son is still awake. You can come in, but I ask that we keep our voices down and if he enters, you not say anything that will upset him.”

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