Page 28 of The Rough Ride

Again. Again. Again.

That’s when she escaped to her memories of basic training. She’d abhorred those long jogs in full uniform and the songs that accompanied them. Oddly enough, those recollections of running on two legs and the humorous chants had become unlikely friends during rehab.

She’d recovered enough to bear Ella the natural way whenthe time came. She’d waddled, but didn’t limp, into the hospital that night.

And Nick never saw any of it. The rehab, the growing belly, her learning to walk again with a prosthetic, Ella kicking a bowl of popcorn off her belly at thirty-nine weeks, her birth, first car ride, first bowl of oatmeal. Liz had kept it all a secret and robbed him of the worry and joy. The familiar stab of guilt panged in her chest.

But his emotions would’ve overloaded the delicate mental balance she’d worked so hard to achieve. Ella wasn’t his responsibility anyway. She couldn’t offer Nick the love he deserved back then. It was more than enough to learn to love herself again.

A sad melancholy draped her heart like a thick blanket. She’d hoped to spend the weekend with Nick and Ella making new memories. But she’d hoped too big on that one. Tears slipped down her cheeks.

She had no reason to be upset with Nick. She hadn’t expected him to be thrilled with her decision to keep the baby. He had every right to take some time.

But the burden of secrecy that she’d carried for fifteen months had been harder than any hundred-pound backpack she’d hefted during ten-mile survival training hikes. And now that she didn’t need to hide Ella anymore, she was free to live with the decision she’d made.

Her heart skipped a beat and adrenaline slammed her system. Tonight had jump-started her life. For the next three days, she’d be solo with Ella.

She hadn’t been alone for this much time in years. There would be no physical therapist to massage her. No nurse with a pain shot, no doctor interrupting a nap, no orderly getting a wheelchair, or Arlene to make it all better. No help with Ella.

An emancipating wail of gratitude flowed from her chest, followed by another, and then dozens more—each sob a cleansing breath. Her stomach calmed, and the emotional weight she’d been carrying lifted from her shoulders.

Maybe she’d plan a trip to the beach with Ella and they’d play in the surf’s edge. Perhaps she’d introduce her to an ice cream cone, take a long stroller walk through the zoo, or just take her daughter clothes shopping and show her off.

Maybe she’d call a few of her friends from college and catch-up, tell them about her beautiful daughter and share the joy.

One thing was for damn certain. She didn’t need to hide anymore.

18

Nick landed one last ruthless upper-cut to the punching bag and stumbled forward, grabbing it for support as his chest heaved. He’d danced with this freaking bag non-stop for over an hour, landing blow upon blow, kick after kick. Another ten minutes at this pace and he’d fall flat on his face.

Yeah, he’d feel it tomorrow. But honestly, if he could find his wind again, he’d go another round with the sucker. He swung a towel across his shoulders and wiped his dripping face. Even his feet oozed inside the boxing shoes.

The phone buzzed. He answered as he turned out the lights in the gym. At least a shower was only an elevator ride up the two floors to his loft.

“This is Nick.” He was still breathing hard from the workout.

“Dude.”

“Derek. How you doing, man?” He smiled for the first time in hours.

“I’m pulling out of my driveway now. Got time for a break?”

“Need a shower first. Where you going?”

“Anywhere I can be with a brother. Mother-in-law kicked me out. She said I was hovering. Maggie said I needed to go take care of me for a while and have some fun. Three generations of women in the same house for a week. I need a pool table and a beer. Wanna join me?”

Aww, hell.Any other night of his life he’d be on board, but now? “Not sure I’d be the best company tonight, bro.”

“Yeah? Why not?”

“I had a battle with Liz earlier. I just spent over an hour showing the boxing bag who’s boss.”

“Wow, sorry about that. I’m heading your way and turning onto the interstate. Let’s meet at that tavern by your house. I’ll show you pics of my baby girl, and you can tell me about you and Liz. We drink too much; I’ll crash on your couch.”

Nick hesitated. The last thing he felt like doing was socializing, even with Derek. On the other hand, it’d be nice to gnaw the bone with a friend. And D was a brother.

“Yeah, okay. But we might want to pick a different bar.”

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