I’ve lost her.
Twenty-Five
Lachlan
I wake up, and for the first time in days, Quinn isn’t lying next to me in bed. Her perfect, warm body isn’t pressed into my side, and her leg isn’t thrown over mine. Her hair isn’t fanned out across her face and pillow. She’s not waking me up and hurrying me out the door, so I can go get breakfast and come right back to eat with her and Kinsley.
I throw my legs over the side of the bed and turn my alarm off since I’m up before it’s gone off. After showering and getting dressed, I head out to the kitchen to pop a K-cup into the Keurig so I can make myself a cup of coffee before I go to work. As I listen to the water heat up and then the coffee brew, I ignore the otherwise deafening silence. Kinsley’s giggles are missing. The way she clacks her fork and knife against her plate. Quinn’s voice isn’t yelling across the house for her daughter to hurry up and eat so they aren’t late. She’s not begging me to make her a cup then kissing me when I hand it to her, already made.
Declan makes his presence known, half-asleep and scrubbing his face as he grabs a mug from the cabinet and moves mine to the side so he can make his own coffee. He flew back in yesterday along with my parents and Quinn. Nobody knows that Quinn and me have…fuck…what have we done? What did she do? Are we on a break? Did we break up for good? She gave me back the engagement ring. Does that mean she ended our engagement?
Grabbing the mug, I take a sip of the black coffee. When I notice Declan is silent too, I ask if everything is okay with him. Better to focus on someone else’s issues instead of my own.
“I caught Venessa with another guy last night. I wasn’t supposed to return until later in the week, but as you know I changed my flight last minute to get home to her.” He shrugs nonchalantly, but it’s an act. He cares about her.
“Are you sure it’s what it looked like?”
“Yeah, unless shoving her tongue down a guy’s throat can somehow be misconstrued.” He takes a spoon out of the drawer, then slams in shut.
“Quinn ended our engagement last night,” I admit.
Declan whips his head around to face me. “Are these women fucking possessed?”
I just shrug a shoulder and chuckle humorlessly.
“You’re not going to just let her end it, are you?”
I’ve thought a lot about this since I found the ring last night. “She asked for space, so I’m going to give it to her. I don’t want to. Hell, if it were up to me, I would throw her over my shoulder and lock her in my bedroom.” I laugh without any humor. “Quinn is so fucking insecure, man.” I take a sip of my coffee. “I’ve tried everything to convince her she’s perfect. That I love her. That she’s the one for me. But it feels like with every mole I whack, another one pops up in its place.” I hate this feeling of defeat.
“What happened to make her end things?”
“I’m not certain, but I think while we were at the bachelor party, the women were talking. When I got back, she asked if I wanted my own kids.”
“Have you asked your mom? You know, she was there.”
I didn’t even think about that. But Declan is right. “I’ll do that. Thanks.”
On my walk to work, I call my mom and she confirms the women—specifically Shea—were gossiping about how much I love kids and want my own family, but she says Quinn wasn’t in the room, and she wasn’t either during the beginning of the conversation. So maybe she overheard? Or she left before my mom walked in? I want to call Quinn and ask her, but that will go against giving her space. So instead, I go to work and lose myself in tattooing.
* * *
On Wednesday I wake up to my phone buzzing. I jump up and snatch it off the nightstand, praying it’s Quinn. Only it’s my mom, who apparently has been shopping. Not wanting her to judge Quinn, in case we get back together, I haven’t told my mom Quinn called off the engagement. There are several pictures of little girl toys. Barbies, a Barbie mansion, tons of dolls and other shit. Under all the images is a message from my mom: Christmas is in three weeks! I would like to meet my granddaughter before then!
Not having the heart to tell her she may never meet Kinsley, I text back: Ok. Then I get out of bed and repeat everything I did yesterday. Only today, the ache in my chest hurts like a bitch. I consider calling Quinn several times throughout the day, but I don’t do it. Space. She needs space. But fuck if I don’t need her.