Page 98 of Missing Pieces (Men of Manhattan 3)

I ran to the bathroom and threw up everything I had left in my stomach. I sat down on the cold tile floor next to the toilet. Even getting sick made me cry. Because when I was little my dad was always there with me. I rested my head against the vanity and closed my eyes.

Adding a stomach bug to the list of ways I was falling apart didn't make a difference. I took a few deep breaths and slowly stood up. I had found out that it was better for my sanity if I didn't sit for too long. Sitting made me cry. Which made me curl up in a ball with a blanket and not move for hours at a time. But I had just slept. And I still had a lot to pack. The realtor wanted to start showing the house. I thought it was best if there wasn't someone crying in a corner with boxes everywhere. In the meantime, I'd sleep in my dad's office at the bar. Apparently that was going to be a harder sell, so I'd have some time to crash there.

I walked down the hall and stopped at the doorway into the kitchen. I ran my hand up the lines marking my height as I grew up. Last night I had gotten lost in photo albums. I remembered everything, but I couldn't stop looking. It was good that I had to get out of here. Because I could lose myself in the house. In the memories.

A knock on the door made me jump. People had been stopping by all week giving me condolences. But I'm pretty sure Anna had just been sending them to check up on me. I knew she was worried about me. No matter what she said, I felt guilty for not being here with him. He had specifically asked me not to go to Elena's. And he was right. Nothing had come from it.

Except Tyler. But I hadn't heard from him since he left without saying goodbye in Santa Monica. That was starting to weigh on me too. Not because I doubted his feelings. But because I was worried about him. I had written him at least a dozen letters now. It was starting to become a nervous tick. Whenever I was struggling the most, I just grabbed a piece of paper and wrote down everything that I was struggling with. Then I would throw that paper out and write something a lot calmer that I actually would send him. So that he wouldn't worry about me. But I always ended the letters the same way. Telling him that I needed to hear his voice. It was probably desperate. But I was desperate. I couldn't hide that fact. Was he not writing me back because I was being too obsessive? Just thinking about it made me want to write to him again.

I slowly walked over to the door, wondering who had been sent to check on me this time. I was more than a little surprised to see my best friend from when I was little standing there with a casserole dish in her hand.

"Hey." I tried to hide the surprise in my voice.

She smiled weakly.

"Hails." She moved the dish to her side, revealing her huge pregnant stomach, as she leaned in for a hug. "Hails, I'm so, so sorry about your dad."

I patted her back awkwardly. "Thanks." I thought the next time we spoke that maybe she'd apologize for kissing my boyfriend in high school. She had apologized before, but she never sounded that sincere. Or maybe I just didn't forgive very easily.

She pulled back. The small smile was still on her face. "Can I come in?" She didn't really wait for an answer. Instead, she just stepped beside me into the house. "I spent so much time here when I was little," she said as she made her way to the kitchen.

"That was a long time ago."

"Yeah. It really was." She set the dish down on the table. "I made you tuna casserole. I know how much you used to love your dad's. Do you want me to warm it up?"

I immediately shook my head. "No, I have a stomach bug or something. I'm not going to be eating anything for a while."

"Sure you don't just have morning sickness?" She laughed at her own joke as she touched her stomach. "God, morning sickness was the worst. Luckily I'm past that now."

Shit. Am I pregnant? No. There's no way. "No."

"You hesitated."

"I didn't hesitate."

"Hails."

I shook my head, but didn't say anything for a moment. "Congrats on the baby, by the way. You must be so excited."

She just stared back at me.

"What?"

"Do you still feel sick?"

"I mean, no not really. I feel a lot better now. Because I just threw up whatever it was that was making me sick probably."

"Well, do you have a temperature?"

"I don't know, I don't think so."

"Have you had sex recently?"

"Claire!"

She smiled. "It's just like old times."

Except I had never had sex with Jack. Is that why she was here? She wanted to know about her husband's sexual history? If it was a problem for her, maybe she shouldn't have started dating someone who was currently in a relationship with me.

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