Page 35 of Only a Gemini Will Do

“How can you say that? I’m the whole reason he came back in the first place. And now he’s gone again, and the fucking police were here, and you saw everything, and it’s the worst Christmasever, and—” I couldn’t even finish before breaking down again, burying my wet face in Soleil’s shoulder.

She stroked my hair. “You didn’t cause this. You didn’t force him to come back. He did it because he wanted to be here for the baby. That’s not on you. He made that choice.”

“Isn’t it on me, though? He would’ve never had a reason to come back if I hadn’t decided to force us both into parenthood. If he hadn’t come here—if I hadn’t been in his life—he’d still be safe.”

Soleil pulled back and stationed her gaze on mine. “We can’t live our lives based on should’ve, could’ve, would ’ves, Sawyer. You know that. You’renotthe reason for the hurricane. You’renotthe reason for his bus accident. You’renotthe reason he broke into your apartment. And you’re damn surenotthe reason he’s in trouble with the law in the first place. He made his bed long before he met you, Sawyer. Now he’s gotta lie in it. Alone. You have a baby to focus on.”

I sniffled. “I feel so fucking stupid. I really thought we’d make it. I was planning on having a home birth with a doula. I thought he’d be here for the long run. I guess I was relying too much on false hope and not enough on reality,” I said, voice cracking. “What am I gonna do? I don’t wanna do this alone anymore. I want him, Soleil. Hehasto be here.”

“Even if he’s not, you’re not alone in this, Sawyer. You’ve got me. I’m not going anywhere. Whatever happens next, I’ll be right here.”

I bobbed my head as fresh tears fell. I leaned back into my sister’s arms. “Thank you for being here.”

She kissed my forehead. “Of course, stink. That’s what annoying big sisters are for.”

It was later that day,and I’d refused to get out of bed. Not for presents. Not for my favorite breakfast. Not for anything. I was still too sad. I lay wrapped in my sheets in the same matching Christmas PJs I’d had on from Christmas Eve. Butta was curled up at the foot of the bed as if he could sense something was off.

My eyes were puffy and red. The baby kicked inside my womb, a gentle reminder of the life I had still growing inside me, even though everything else felt like it was going to hell in a handbasket.

“Mommy’s right here, baby girl. Everything will be alright,” I whispered to her.

Knock, knock.

I flinched. For a second, my limbs were frozen solid. Then I wiped my face with the back of my hand before crawling out of bed and opening the door. Soleil stood on the other side holding a fruitcake wrapped in green cellophane.

“Um, your old ass neighbor is at the door. He brought this and wanted to speak to you.”

My brows creased. “What? Why?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I wasn’t trying to be rude to his old ass. It’s the holidays.”

I sighed, knowing damn well I wasn’t in the holiday spirit or in the mood to talk to anyone, but I made an effort to put on a fake smile as I walked down the hallway to the door.

Standing there was Mr. Wilkins, wearing a gray bathrobe and a baseball cap. “Merry Christmas, Sawyer. I just wanted to check on you. I heard all the police commotion last night. I gave the fruitcake to your sister, figured you could use something sweet.”

I nodded slowly. “Thank you . . . and I’m sorry if I disturbed you.”

He hesitated for a moment before slightly leaning forward. “I also wanted to tell you something else important . . . about that man they arrested.”

My breath caught in my throat. “W-What is it?”

“I’m the one who made the call to Crime Stoppers. I saw him a few days ago, letting himself into your apartment. He seemed nervous, but said he was your cousin. I didn’t think much of it at first until later that night. That’s when I realized I had seen him in a bulletin. I didn’t know if he told you who he was. I . . . I thought I was doing the right thing.”

Hearing his words felt like my heart had been ripped out of my chest all over again. My fingers tightened around the doorknob. I didn’t know whether to rip it off or slam the door in his face.

“You . . . were . . . only trying to help, I guess,” I managed to mutter.

“I didn’t mean to cause any drama. I just wanted to make sure you and Butta were safe,” he said genuinely.

Tears stung the corners of my eyes as I nodded. I couldn’t bear to part my lips to speak.

I slowly started to close the door, the click of the latch sounding louder than I intended, but I didn’t have the energy to care. I remained upright for a minute, staring at the door as the revelation of his words sank in.

Then I sank to the floor with my back against the door, crying all over again. Not the loud, painful wails from earlier—but quieter, sadder. The kind that came from a place where words hadn’t been invented yet. Because I genuinely didn’t know how to feel when I felt so many things at once.

A few seconds later, Butta joined me, nudging his head at my knee. I stroked his head absentmindedly as tears slipped downmy cheeks. I sat in silence, holding my heartache in one hand and my belly in the other.

Worst. Christmas. Ever.