“That idiot,” I shout, forgetting where I am again.
“Knox. What’s this about?” Pops is insistent this time.
“It’s nothing.”
“Like hell it is. What is it?”
“Okay it’s something. I…I just got some news,” I say, not wanting to worry him. “I need to talk to Isabelle about it, is all.”
“Okay, so what the heck are you doing here? Go talk to her. I’m fine. This is minor stuff. They’re just taking precautions, observing me for twenty-four hours.”
“I don’t want to leave you. Not here.”
He sits up straight in his hospital bed and drags the oxygen tubes down from his nose. “I swear to God, if you use my illness as an excuse not to deal with your problems, when I die, I’ll come back with your mom and dad, and we’ll tag team haunting your sorry ass until you have the fear of God in you! Get going. Go get your girl.”
I don’t know why Pops is making light of his illness and bringing my parents into it, but I can tell by that tone that he’s not playing with me.
“Fine. I’ll go call her now.”
“You better.”
I leave the room and call Isabelle’s number from my contact list. She doesn’t answer, so I find Foster’s contact information and phone him next.
“Hey,” he answers on the second ring. “What’s up?”
“I’ll deal with the shit you pulled later, but for now just tell me what’s the status on Isabelle’s ETA. I tried to call her. Is she and the baby okay?”
“They’re fine. It was gonna take too long to send my plane there, so I booked a private charter straight from Denver. Their flight left a few minutes ago, so yeah, she can’t use her phone in transit. They’ll land in JFK in about five hours.”
I lean against the wall outside my grandfather’s private room and look up at the ceiling. A wave of relief flows through me, now that I know Isabelle is on her way back. I was a fool. If I have to spend the next ten years groveling for her forgiveness, I’ll do it wholeheartedly. I had no right allowing her to go through any of this alone. It’s my fault for not letting her in. But that baby is mine. Isabelle is fucking mine too. It’s time I accept that.
“Okay. Hey…thanks for doing this for me.”
“It’s all good, man,” he tells me. “That’s what friends do for each other.”
“All right.”
“Where are you, anyway? What’s all that shit in the background?” he asks.
“Shit, I forgot to tell you. Pops is in the emergency room here at Mount Sinai.”
“Damn. What happened?”
“He slipped and hurt his head, but he’s fine now. They’re holding him for observation.”
Foster lets out a breath. “That’s a relief. Listen, do you need me there? I can stay with him if you want to meet Isabelle when her charter lands.”
“You sure?”
“Hell yeah,” he says, and chuckles a little. “Hanging out with Pops is a breeze compared to that other stuff. You go ahead, deal with your baby momma drama.”
“All right.”
I hang up the phone and return to Pops’ room. He’s still sitting the way I left him, but the oxygen tubes are back in place.
He folds his arms and shakes his head. “I have half a mind to cut you right out of my will and replace your name with Isabelle’s, for what you put that girl through.”
“Relax, Pops. I’m taking care of it. I’m fixing things.”
“What’s this I hear about a great-grandbaby? You’re gonna hold out on your Pops like that?”
“How much did you hear from my phone call?” I ask. “The door was almost closed the whole way.”
“Boy, I’m old, not deaf. Tell me what’s going on.”
I sit on the side of the bed, and I tell him everything. From the engagement party, to Foster’s texts, leaving nothing out, except for the obvious details of what went on behind closed doors with Isabelle. After I’m done, he puts his hand on my forearm and smiles.
“Son, I’m not a big fan of your methods, but I have to say that it sounds like you’re growing up. You need to take care of a few things, like that whole part about ignoring her calls and stuff. That has to stop. Right now.”
“Your right. I won’t do that anymore.”
“Good. You’ll need to make up for that, big time. I hope she hasn’t given up on you entirely.”
“Me too.”
He squeezes my shoulder and leans back on the bed. “Go on, now. Fix this. Don’t come back here unless you have Isabelle beside you.”
I let him know that Foster will come by to keep him company, and leave for the airport.
I have a fuckton to do to make it up to my Belle.
22
Isabelle
I step off the private jet alone. The flight attendant, pilot and copilot stand behind me at the top of the steps, waiting for me to get to the tarmac. Bethany wasn’t ready to come back with me. She left for a reason. The media scarred her and the love of her life, and she hasn’t come to terms or forgiven them yet. I can relate, but only a little.
Our situations are different, though. I have this baby inside of me. My parents are here, and Knox. If only he understood how deep our connection is, how much his heart and mine are sewn together.
Maybe this time.
Foster’s gesture to bring me back here feels like kismet.
I leave the plane behind, heading to the terminal, and the air in this city feels different. Lighter. Less resistant to dreams becoming a reality. It’s all in my head, I know, but my gut says there’s something to it.
I place my hand on the glass double doors to enter the terminal and as I look up, I see him. He stands there, holding a single red rose, his eyes full of softness. There’s a hint of remorse there too, in his eyes. It’s as though my beast has been tamed, if only for the moment.
“Hi Knox,” I say to him
