Elapse (The Expiration Duet Book 1) Read online

  Copyright © 2017 by LouElla Fields

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, copied, resold or distributed in any form, or by any electronic or mechanical means, without permission in writing from the author, expect for brief quotations within a review.

  This is a work of fiction

  Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.

  If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it to the seller and purchase your own copy.

  Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Playlist

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  To readers everywhere…

  May your love for books allow the light to creep in on the shadows of your darkest days.

  The sound of banging has my eyes springing wide open.

  I take a quick glance around and realize I’m in my living room. I must’ve fallen asleep on the couch after dumping my butt here after work. I yawn and blink a few times. I’m alert enough to realize that someone’s trying to turn a key in the front door. My heart beat picks up speed in my chest as hope and fear battle for domination.

  Is he here?

  I sit up, which causes my Kindle to fall from where it was perched on my chest into my lap. I throw it on the opposite couch. Getting up, I wipe around my mouth because well, drool happens to the best of us. I swipe my hair back off my face and right my work skirt and blouse. I neglected to change, and now, my outfit is crinkled beyond repair. I shake my head; creased clothing is the least of my freaking worries right now. I force myself to walk to the door even though every inch of me is itching to run as a thousand questions burn through my head.

  Why did you go? Where the hell did you go? Why the fuck would you do this?

  I could light up a city with the amount of excitement and anxiety coursing through my veins. It doesn’t matter. As long as he’s back, questions and answers can come later.

  I take a deep breath and swing the door open. My emotions are too haywire to bother using the peephole, which was a mistake. Perhaps if I had, then I’d be better prepared for the visitor on the other side and the crushing disappointment that I apparently don’t do a good enough job of hiding.

  “Oh, good. I can never remember which damn key it is, and you’ve got some exp … what the hell? Are you expecting a delivery or something?” She glances behind her then returns her blue eyes to me as she searches my face.

  Millie and her mother moved onto my street just before the start of fourth grade. We bonded that summer over our mutual love of bike shorts, spearmint gum, and building castle forts out of trees. We’ve been inseparable ever since.

  “Liv?”

  I let out a sigh that seems to make the crushing weight in my chest only drag my shoulders down farther. I step back, letting her in before closing the door and making my way back to what’s now become my safe haven. My couch. “Well, hello to you too, grumpy ass. Why the hell haven’t you been answering my calls?” she says sarcastically, following me and throwing herself sideways onto the opposite armchair.

  Tears gather in my eyes. A-freaking-gain. God, I should buy shares in tissues at this rate.

  “Olive?”

  I can’t do this.

  I can’t even keep it together enough to say hello, which is why I haven’t been answering her calls. Because my whole world has been turned on its ass in a matter of days. I keep thinking it’s a bad dream. A sick fucking joke. That everything will turn out the way it was meant to. I shake my head and laugh dryly at myself. Hot tears start to escape and slowly make their way down my cheeks. Millie must think I’m going crazy, and I sure as hell feel that way. She’s up and next to me in an instant. As her hand touches my back, I can practically feel her worry seeping through the thin material of my shirt. I look up at her face and say what my soul can’t bear to hear, not even from my own lips. But maybe, just maybe with her here, it’ll be easier.

  “He’s gone, Mil. He just … left.” I rasp out with a halfhearted shrug.

  Her head rears back. “What? Zeke?”

  I nod as she shakes her head in obvious bewilderment.

  “He wouldn’t.” She frowns. “I don’t understand, Liv.”

  “You’re not the only one. I feel like I’m going insane,” I choke out on a wail. Oh, dear God, I’m wailing. If I thought this would help the unbearable pain gripping my heart and spreading through my entire being with each day that passes, I was wrong. Dead wrong. I start crying harder than I think I ever have before.

  Millie pulls me toward her, wrapping both arms around me as my body starts shaking from the force of my sobs. I’m lost in a sea of anguish and disbelief. I have no idea how much time passes as we stay like that, and I empty about six years’ worth of love and memories into her hair. But what are best friends good for if you can’t snot all over their beloved hair during one of the worst times of your life? Nothing, is what. And it’s because I know I’ve got a great one—one who’ll stand by me and help me try to sort out this mess called my life—that I try to get my shit together. I take a deep breath and sink back into the couch. Millie grabs about ten tissues in rapid succession before passing them over to me and waiting patiently as I wipe my face and blow my nose.

  She sighs. “Liv, I can’t believe this. It just seems so out of character for him. He loves you. He makes that obvious. He’s always loved you.”

  I sniffle and swipe at my face some more, not responding. Because what she says is true; well, at least I thought it was. Zeke and I have been together for just over six years; ever since he finally asked me out in our senior year. Had been together. Because now he’s gone. The reminder never fails to tear something vital open inside me. I guess his idea of forever was different from mine.

  “Liv, seriously. This is nuts. Why the fuck would he just up and leave you?”

  I drag a hand through my hair and answer the only way I can. With the only answer available. An answer I’ll never be able to wrap my head or heart around. The heartbreaking truth claws its way up my throat as I draw in a deep breath and let it all out on a ragged exhale. “Because I’m fucking pregnant, Millie.”

  My hands are shaking furiously. They won’t stop. Shifting slightly, I move them from my lap and place them underneath my thighs. Quickly sitting on them, I revel in the comfort of complete immobility even if they’re starting to go numb from the lack of circul ation. I’m not an overly anxious person, but uncertainty has my nerves on edge.

  Despite the turmoil that falling pregnant has caused, I’m starting to get a little excited about it. Even if, in the end, I will be the only one raising it. Just me.

  Holy shit.

  “Olive Sawyer?” I look up at the sound of my name being called and smile weakly at the pretty middle-aged woman. I’m praying like hell she doesn’t ask where the father is.

  Rising from my chair, I follow the nurse as she guides me down the long corridor that has seen better days. I hear that what this place lacks in aesthetics, Dr. Hollis makes up for with being the best ob-gyn that Ivy Falls has to offer. Not that we exactly have a lot of options in this tiny town of ours.

  The nurse nods her head in the direction of a small doorway, and I walk through and take a seat in one of the two chairs available by the wall.

  “I’m Rachel; Dr. Hollis will be in a few minutes, so let’s get you started. Everything from the waist down off, please. When you’re done with that, hop up onto the exam table and use this to cover your lower half.”

  I nod as Rachel hands me a sheet and then exits the room, softly closing the door behind her. I look down at the sheet and notice my hands are still shaking. Damn it. I rub them together and take a deep breath. In through the nose, out through the mouth—something I find myself needing to do a lot of lately. Removing the necessary clothing, I jump up onto the exam table and cover myself with the sheet.

  “How are you, Olive?” Dr. Hollis asks a few minutes later as she walks in the door. Her cheery tone and the mug wedged between her fingers indicate she’s more than likely had her morning coffee. I feel a stab of ridiculous jealousy at the thought. I don’t think I’m ever going to adjust to this decaf crap.

  “Okay, thanks. Just tired and slightly more emotional than usual.” Understatement.

  “That’s all completely normal at this early stage, my dear.” She places her mug down and sanitizes her hands.

  “Now, because you are so early in your pregnancy, we need to do a transvaginal ultrasound. Is that okay?” Is it just me, or does she sound slightly remorseful?

  Then it clicks.

  Oh, shit—it’s the dildo-cam.

  It’s not like I have a choice, though.

  I can’t help it. I can feel the embarrassment start to slowly creep up my neck, probably turning my face a lovely shade of red. I simply nod and fight the urge to bury my burning cheeks in my hands, cringing when I look up to see her squeezing the cold gel onto the end of the probe.

  For the next few minutes, I’m in my own little world, trying not to focus on what is happening down there. But then I hear a sound that has my eyes firmly glued to the monitor. “There we go, nice and strong already,” Dr. Hollis says. I stare in awe as she completes the scan, forgetting about the discomfort as I watch the tiny flickering image on the screen in front of me.

  “Okay, we’re done,” she says and then instructs me to dress before she leaves the room once more.

  “We’re done, Liv. You knew. You fucking knew where I stood on this issue.”

  I wince at not only his harsh tone but also the word issue. Apparently, falling pregnant is now an ‘issue’. One he wants no part in.

  “Zeke! Wait, just … let’s talk about it.” I call after him as he zips up his duffel bag and heads to the door. “I knew. Of course, I did. But it’s not like I did this on purpose. You know I’d never do that,” I plead. He stops with his back to me and one hand on the door handle.

  “I never once believed that you’d do something like this on purpose. But it’s happened, hasn’t it? And the fact that you’re not even giving me a say in this? Other than to just deal, put a smile on my face, and play daddy of the fucking year for the rest of my life?” He blows out a breath. “No. I can’t.” He glances at me briefly over his shoulder. His face hard as granite. “I’m not playing fucking games or repeating myself, Olive. I’m going. We’re done.” The door closes behind him, and I suck in a breath as tears sting my eyes. What the hell do I do now?

  I shake my head and force the painful memory aside as I finish dressing. Slipping my feet back into my ballet flats, I watch as Dr. Hollis re-enters the room and stops in front of her computer. I’m now wondering if everything is okay. She hasn’t said a word unless I didn’t hear her.

  “Everything is coming along nicely, Olive. You’re approximately seven weeks and two days with a due date of January twentieth,” she says in that chirpy tone, clearly excited for me.

  Even with my heart squeezing painfully in my chest, I can’t help but smile at the news. “Wow.” I let out a heavy breath. “So there seems to be no problems? What else do I need to do?” The words spew from my mouth in an effort to keep my mind firmly rooted in the present.

  “As far as I can tell so early on, the baby is perfectly fine, and everything is developing as it should be.” She continues, mentioning the pregnancy vitamins and extra iron supplements I need to take.

  I let out a sigh of relief. In spite of everything else burning to the ground around me, this baby is very much wanted. A baby who is both a piece of me and the man I love. Even if he’s damaged what we had beyond repair. He should have been here sharing this moment with me. It’s our baby, not just mine. And it’s with this appointment and the reality that’s starting to really slam down on top of me—whether I like it or not—that I know I can’t give up. Not yet.

  I nod to Dr. Hollis and promise her that I’ll grab the supplements on my way home. I thank her for her time and make my way through the door and down the dingy corridor to the reception desk, scheduling my next appointment before walking out the doors with determination fueling my every step. I reach my car outside, hitting the key fob twice to unlock the doors of my black Volkswagen Jetta. Opening the door, I plop into the driver’s seat.

  I can do this.

  Convincing myself, I turn the key in the ignition and set out for Beau’s apartment.

  As I drive through the countryside, the weight of what I’m doing hits me. Soft hills and flowing trees seem to blend, making my drive a steady blur.

  What is usually a fifteen-minute drive feels like two minutes, knowing that I have to face the one person who doesn’t want to see me. My gut is churning as I park my car and head for the stairs to the apartment building ahead of me.

  As I wait for the elevator, I make a mental note to stay calm. The mix between nerves and fear is almost too much to handle. I take a step back toward the front doors, unsure of whether I really want to go through with this.

  I shouldn’t even have to do this, I think to myself when the elevator dings and the doors slide open. Confusion and uncertainty travel through my bloodstream until I hear my pulse ringing in my ears. Why am I doing this? I shove my hands through my hair as anxiety threatens to split me in two.

  Get it together, Olive. It’s now or never.

  I release my hair and take one step toward the elevator followed reluctantly by another. Convincing myself this is the only way I’ll know what my future might hold. I can’t truly let him go unless I can say I’ve tried just one more time. Once I’m in the elevator, I press the button for the seventh floor and watch as the doors close. The elevator is painfully slow; an agonizing ten-second ride to the seventh floor where Beau’s apartment is located.

  The elevator dings, signaling that I’ve finally reached the selected floor. Stepping out and walking the twenty or so feet to the door, I again feel like this is a bad idea. Too late now. Pulling myself together, I square my shoulders and knock. I’m trying to at least look strong, seeing as I left my confidence in the elevator that’s now traveling back down toward the lobby.

  Please let him be here.

  Or please don’t.

  But really, there’s nowhere else Zeke would go. Beau is his lifeline; the only friend Zeke can rely on at a moment’s notice. I raise my hand and knock again, this time a little harder. I hear feet shuffling on the other side the door followed by a gro an. My heart stutters in my chest because that particular groan only belongs to one person. I’d usually hear that groan every morning at five a.m. when I woke to the sound of Zeke’s alarm. Or right before he collapsed on top of me after leaving me a mindless, sated mess.

  Staring at the doorknob, I clench my fists at my sides and feel sweat gathering in my palms. I open them and rub them vigorously along the sides of my yellow spotted sundress. I’m mentally patting myself on the back for choosing to wear one of Zeke’s favorite outfits when not so silently, the doorknob turns, and the door flies open. Zeke is looking aimlessly above me, towering over my five-foot-eight frame.

  “Forget your keys, did you, dick …” Zeke says. Clearly not expecting me, he lowers his eyes and stares. Just stares.

  I stare back. I can’t think, and I can’t speak. I just stare into those slightly bloodshot hazel eyes. The very same ones I’ve been staring into for the past six years. They’re usually full of love, laughter, adoration, heat, anything else besides … well, I can’t even name what emotion is filling them now. And I don’t think I want to. I remove my eyes from his, raising them to his sandy blond hair hanging haphazardly across his forehead. As if noticing me staring at it, he brushes it out of his face and drops his now clenched fist back by his side. Breaking the silence, he hits me with a voice I’ve never heard directed at me before.

  “What the fuck are you doing here, Olive?”

  Stunned stupid by his choice of words, I can’t seem to muster the courage to speak.

  He repeats his question at a slower pace as if I didn’t hear him the first time. My eyes widen as I’m snapped out from my frozen state.