Page 103 of Whispered Sins

“Well, how do you like it so far?”

“I like what I see so far.”

She batted her eyelashes and bit her lip as she tapped her pen against her pad of paper.“I’m happy to hear that. And I would be happy to share some of my favorites on the menu.”

She leaned in and pointed out her favorite items. She smelled like coconut and saltwater. I ordered her recommendations. Crunchy pork salad. Samosas. Chicken with coconut rice.

“I’ll get that right in. Let me know if you needanythingat all.” She walked away, her hips swaying, holding my attention until the moment she disappeared into the kitchen.

She could be fun,I thought. A little vacation fling. Waking up naked in the sheets to the ocean air drifting in the open doorway. Taking a dip in the water to wake us up. The saltwater on our tan skin as we drank too many fruity cocktails before we tumbled back into the king-size bed. Having someone to fuck this pain away would make this trip even better. No strings attached.

The idea was tantalizing. When she came by and served my food, I almost asked her when she was off, but decided against it. I knew in the end, I only really wanted to be with Heart. Anyone else would just be a Band-Aid.

So instead, I ate my food, which was insanely delicious. And with a full stomach, I walked back to my room and passed out alone.

Chapter 37

Addison

The sunlight streamed through the purple curtains hanging in my bedroom, casting a violet hue over my childhood bedroom. I felt the warmth against my eyelids as I rolled from my side to my back. I opened them slowly and stared at the ceiling, which still had glow in the dark stars from when I was little. Yawning, I sat up in bed.

I looked around the room, at the boy bands’ smiling faces on glossy posters and the book series I used to read lined up on the shelves. I once had been such a happy kid in this room. Playing and learning and not having a care in the world. Having parents who liked me.

I knew deep down my parents loved me. I loved them. But over the years, we just stopped liking each other.

Things would be different if I had a sibling. They would have another child to look after and cast their dreams onto instead of putting all their faith in me. It’s funny because I don’t know what their expectations were for me. I just know that I hadn’t lived up to them. First, with my job. Second, not finding a husband. Third, having a baby without said husband.

The rest of last night’s dinner had been wildly uncomfortable in a silence that was only broken by forks scraping against the plate. I helped my mother wash the dishes while my father went to the living room to watch the nightly news. A tradition I had known since childhood. Except, back then, he would let me climb into his lap and let me ask question after question about what the newscaster was saying.

There was none of that last night. Instead, I stood by the sink, watching my mother inspect the dishes I had washed with scrutiny. After we were done and my handwashing skills passed her standards, I went up to my room and stayed there for the rest of the night. I called Monica, let her tell me, “I told you so,” and then started to look for flights home.

But then something incredible happened that turned the whole night around. I felt the baby kick. Up until then, I thought I had maybe imagined the little flutters that the baby books had described, but this was real. This made me sit up in bed, wide-eyed. I pressed my hand gently to my stomach and felt another kick. Immediately, tears came to my eyes.

“Hello there,” I had whispered.

It was as if the baby was telling me I wasn’t alone. Not anymore. I was about to build my own little family, and it would be filled with love and warmth. It wouldn’t feel anything like this. I took comfort in knowing that, and was able to fall asleep cradling my bump.

I had no desire to stay here last night after the conversation at dinner took a turn for the worst, as I knew it would. I should have known better than to come back home. Too much time had passed. Too much damage had been done. I would never be the daughter they wanted me to be, and I had to accept that.

I only stayed because it was already a stretch in my budget to fly to Pittsburgh. Adding a last-minute hotel stay was not in the cards, but I didn’t have to worry about where I was staying tonight. I already had a flight booked back home to New York in a few hours.

Quickly, I rolled out of bed and changed out of my pajamas and back into my travel clothes from yesterday. I had thought I would be here long enough to maybe do a load of laundry, but here I was. I pulled the leggings over my bump and looked at myself in the small full-length mirror. It was an odd juxtaposition to be becoming a mother as I stood in the bedroom I grew up in, when everything looked the same.

I went to the bathroom to wash up and splashed water on my face and brushed my teeth. The smell of bacon and eggs wafted up the stairs, and my stomach grumbled hungrily. I would rather just get to the airport early than endure another meal with my parents, who had no idea I was even leaving yet. What else did they expect, though?

I grabbed my suitcase from my room and said a silent goodbye to the childhood I once knew, before gently closing the door behind me. I walked downstairs and into the kitchen. My mother was at the stove and my father was at the table reading the paper. When they heard me enter the room, their eyes went from me to the luggage in my hand.

“Are you leaving?” asked my father, surprise in his voice.

“Yeah, my flight’s in a few hours,” I said, rocking back on my heels nervously. “I just think it’s better this way.”

My mother pursed her lips and turned back toward the stove without saying a word.

“Addison…” my dad started.

“Let her go, Roger,” said my mother, her back to us.

“At least let me take you to the airport.”

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