What the fuck is going on?

I head out into the hall and now I can hear it more clearly.

A woman yells, “Don’t you throw that back in my face. You could have been there!”

Then Bram yells back, “I tried to fucking be there!”

“Well, it was too damn late.” A pause and it sounds like she’s crying. “God, Matthew doesn’t need to hear this.”

Who the fuck is Matthew?

I try to swallow the brick in my throat. Things seem safe out here in the hallway. If I knock on his door, everything is going to change. I just know it. This woman, that voice…it all means something, it all means too much.

Part of me just wants to go away. And I should. Go back in the apartment and drown out the voices the way I used to drown out Bram when I first moved in.

But I don’t do that. I knock on his door instead.

“Fuck,” Bram growls.

I hold my breath.

The door opens.

Bram’s face falls at the sight of me. In his eyes, I can read everything. I can read the change.

I can read the end.

“What’s going on?” I ask, barely able to speak.

In the background, I see a woman with long dark curly hair appear. She’s tall, on the curvy side, maybe a bit bigger than me, and pretty, with smooth honey skin. Her dark, dark eyes are tinged with red.

Taylor.

In an instant, I know it’s her.

And she knows something about me. It probably helps that I’m wearing lingerie.

“Nicola,” Bram says. “This isn’t a good time.”

I jerk my head at the woman. “Who is she?” I try really hard not to sound like a jealous bitch but I’m totally failing.

Bram’s face falls even more. “She’s the woman I told you about. Taylor.”

I cross my arms, trying to act stronger than I am, trying to pretend that the name doesn’t shatter me. “The one that got away?”

The woman frowns and then steps forward.

“Hi,” she says, looking me up and down. “Are you his girlfriend?”

I look at Bram. Am I your girlfriend?

Was I?

“I live next door,” I say by way of explanation. “And heard yelling so I thought I’d come over.”

“I’m so sorry about that,” Bram says. “I’ll talk to you later.”

I stare at him for a moment and I feel a world pass between us. Maybe time speeds up or maybe it slows down, but I feel myself clinging to the idea of what we were together.

I love you, I think. What are you doing? What is this? Please let there be a perfectly rational explanation for everything. Make me believe it.

“Mom,” a young boy’s voice says, and before it can really register, a little boy about six or seven in shorts and a t-shirt appears between Taylor and Bram.

“It’s okay, Matthew,” she says, putting her hand on his head. The kid stares at me with tired eyes and he yawns big and loud.

There’s something so damn familiar about this kid that I feel like I’m barely holding onto reality. Though his skin is darker, his eyes, his brows, the shape of his jaw, even at a young age, are all too similar. He’s even got on the same socks as Bram. Yellow and brown. The Loch Ness Monster.

I look at Bram and realization slowly falls on me, like those first falling stones from an impending rockslide.

“This is Matthew,” Taylor says to me. “Bram’s son.”

And now the rest of the earth gives way.

I’m falling on the inside, down, down, down, buried by the truth.

On the outside I am frozen solid.

I take in a sharp intake of air and can’t seem to let it go. It freezes in my lungs, burning liquid nitrogen.

“I was going to tell you,” Bram says, rubbing his hand over his face, his voice strained. “But I didn’t know when. It’s so damn complicated.”

“Bram,” Taylor warns him. “Not in front of him.”

I can’t even form words. My mouth opens and closes like a stupid fish until finally I burst out, “You have a son?”

“Nicola,” he says, shooting Taylor and Matthew an apologetic look before stepping out in the hall and closing the door halfway. “I can explain.”

How many breakups have started with “I can explain”? How many times has the explanation never really mattered?

“Why did you lie?” I croak, shaking, feeling like I’m being fileted.

“I didn’t lie,” he says. “I just didn’t tell you…I didn’t bring it up, I was going to but—”

“But what?”

He swallows hard and lowers his voice, “Because I did to Taylor and Matthew what Phil did to you and Ava. Because I wanted you to trust me before you knew about things I’ve done and the person I was.”

I suck in my breath, trying to find an ounce of strength to turn away.

“I did trust you,” I tell him. The words crumble out of my mouth. “But I don’t anymore.”

I step backward and he grabs for my hand and I’m ripping myself out of his reach. I run right into my apartment and slam the door, locking it. Bram knocks on it viciously, calling for me, but I don’t want to see him, I can’t see him.

And I can’t be in here.

I yank on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, grab my purse and I’m opening the door. Bram stands there, a face etched with panic, pain, and I push him out of the way.

“Don’t, Nicola!” he yells at me.

But I’m running.

I’m already gone.

***

I have nowhere to go.

I’m on the street, walking fast, trying to get to the nearest bus stop while texting Steph with shaking hands.

I need to talk to you now. Something happened.

What? Her response is immediate. I’m still at the Lion.

I’ll come there. Catching the bus.

I’d come get you but I had too many beerz. Is this about Bram?

I don’t answer that and the minute I walk into the bar, she sees it on my face. I haven’t been crying though. I’m not exactly even sure what to feel except that terrible, dreadful realization that your life, the one you were starting to love, will never be the same.

All of it, wiped away.

“Oh, honey,” Steph says, getting off of her barstool and wrapping her arms around me. “You’re shaking, what happened?”

Beside her, sitting down, is Linden, staring at me curiously. Sometimes he looks just like his brother.

All of a sudden a wave of rage washes over me.

I point my finger at him. “Did you know?”

Linden looks bewildered. “What? Know what?” He looks to Steph for help but she’s just as confused.

“Did you know about Bram?”

His eyes narrow. “What about Bram? What did he do?”

“You know, that he has a fucking kid!” I practically spit out the words. They sound venomous coming from my mouth, like it could poison me. “He’s a father.”

Linden’s eyes go wide. Steph’s seem about to fall out of her head.

“So, did you know?” I go on, feeling angrier by the second. “Was I the only one in the dark?”

“Wait, wait,” Steph interjects, putting her hand out in front of me. “Kid? Father? Are you pregnant again?”

I glare at her. “No! I mean Bram has a kid, a freaking child, with someone else. His name is Matthew. He looks just like him. I just fucking met him in his apartment, visiting hours with his mom or I don’t know what the fuck. What the fuck?”

Linden is slowly shaking his head. “No, that’s not possible. He doesn’t. I would have known.” He looks at Steph. “We would have known.”

“Would you have?” I counter. “Does anyone have any idea what kind of past Bram had?”

“His kid and the baby mama were in his apartment?” Steph repeats, looking freaked out. “Why?”

I throw my hands out. “How should I know? I thought maybe Linden would.”

“No,” Linden says adamantly. “If Bram had a child this whole time, I would have known about it. Are you sure he didn’t know? He could have just found out.”

I want to collapse onto the ground, but I manage to lean against the stool instead. It’s only then that I notice the three of us are the only people in the bar aside from James who was talking to our other bartender, Sandra, in the corner.