Page 58 of The Jilted Lovers Club
So I stand and open the door for her, then follow her inside. She disappears into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.
My chest tightens, feeling like I’m losing her even though she’s just behind that door. I have no idea what to do, what to say.
It’s like Sasha all over again.
My phone vibrates again, and this time I pull it out and look at the screen.
Bec.
Fuck. My kid.
“I’m sorry,” I say as my greeting. “I can’t believe I abandoned Lottie. I’ll come get…”
“Lottie is fine,” Bec says. “She’s with Bob, completely fascinated by that calf. It’s Jordy I’m worried about. How is she?”
“Okay, I think.” I look toward the bathroom door, hearing the quiet rush of water on the other side. I breathed out heavily. “She had a panic attack. I helped her breathe through it, now she’s in the shower.” I sit on the couch, collapsing against the back of it. “I don’t know what to do. She won’t talk about it, and I don’t even know what happened. I feel like the biggest idiot. She’s probably never seen a cow give birth before, and I just gave her a front row seat to the horror show. I can’t believe I didn’t check with her first.”
“I don’t know,” Bec says slowly. “I know we’ve just met Jordy, but she’s a strong woman. I can’t see something like the birth of a cow sending her into a panic like that.” She’s quiet for a moment. “Tell me what you remember happening.”
I do, though my focus had been on Petunia and her calf, plus Lottie in my arms. Not Jordy. I detail how Petunia had been pacing until she finally laid down, and how the calf came out quickly after that.
“It didn’t move at first,” I say. “For a moment, I thought we lost the calf. But it was only like that for a few seconds tops before it started kicking its legs.”
Bec makes a sympathetic noise in her throat. “And Jordy has never seen an animal birth?” she asks.
“I mean, anything is possible. But it’s not like there are a lot of opportunities in New York.”
“Okay, maybe it’s not about animals. Maybe something else? Could the calf appearing stillborn have affected her?”
The word hits me like a sledgehammer. Stillborn.
“I’m such a fucking idiot.” I look at the door again, the water still running. “I need to go. Can you watch Lottie for me for a while?”
“Honey, you know you don’t have to ask. We treasure our time with Lottie, and I haven’t seen her in a few days.”
“So you’d keep her overnight?”
That was already the plan, but the reason changed. I know Jordy needs the quiet, and anything could be a trigger—even my daughter. The least I can do is provide her space to recover.
“It would be our pleasure. Now, go tend to our girl.”
Our girl.I love the way it sounds, like Bec already knows something is brewing, and she’s accepting Jordy like a daughter.
Even though she isn’t Sasha.
I head to my bedroom, noting Jordy’s still-packed suitcases sitting in the corner. The room is spotless, not a sign of her except for those suitcases. I furrow my brow at the sign of her attempted getaway. Thank god I’d stopped her. We only have two weeks left, but it’s still time. I’ll take what I can get.
I unzip the suitcase and choose some new clothes, finding the comfier ones buried below the rolled-up silk blouses and linen dress pants. Even in her haste, I marvel at the way she packs things so that nothing is wrinkled. It goes to show how careful Jordy is at keeping everything neat and tidy.
Just like her life.
She told me about the loss of her baby in the first few days of knowing her. It had slipped out in a brief, emotional moment before she tucked it away again. So brief, barely a mention for something that had obviously affected her.
And like a dumbass, I hadn’t thought of it since.
When I was young, my mom had a miscarriage. The pregnancy had been unexpected, and my dad blamed my mom for not taking her birth control, even though the fucker could have used a condom.
“It’s not like we can afford the kids we have,” he’d screamed at her. “How are you going to support another mouth to feed?”
