Chapter 143

Tessa whipped out of her driveway. She’d made a quick detour to her house when she got out of work. Crawling around as many tight, dusty spots as she could at the store to keep her mind off the evening ahead was dirty work. The anticipation was as distracting as the terror.

Doing a little manual labor on her own body seemed like a fine place to start though. Plucked, shaved, powdered and lotioned was the name of the game. She’d been lax with her grooming habits since Jon and sex had been off the table for ages. Her doctor had cautioned her to wait a few weeks before she got physical, but it had been nearly seven weeks at this point.

She was achingly afraid that things were changing between them. Every time she got near him she felt a little outside of herself. She couldn’t seem to get back to that easy space with him. Where she didn’t have to think about her feelings because she was too busy…well, feeling them. He loved her and that love had bloomed so fast and with overwhelming results that she was starting to wonder if it was her that felt different or him. Or was it the situation and the grief she couldn’t seem to shake? She’d lost her parents and even that was easier than dealing with this. Each time Jon looked at her she wanted to find her way back to him. He was trying so very hard to be her everything. And she felt like she was disappointing him at every turn.

She wanted to be ready. On the side of her building today, she’d actually felt ready for the first time in a long time. She’d welcomed the hot rush of lust that had burned under her palm when she’d touched him. How had she not noticed the tightening and bulking of muscle going on under his shirt? She knew his home gym had been getting a lot of use, but she just figured it was maintenance. The album was almost ready and touring would start in the fall, so gearing up for that seemed natural.

The muscles under his shirt weren’t maintenance. That was work. That was—her mouth watered—sin. She eased through his gate with her key card and parked. She’d found a battered pair of jeans that molded to her in all the ways he liked and her old Giants jersey and had left it at that. She needed the comfort and the memories. The Giants jersey was another time where they’d settled problems. Maybe it would have the same magical properties tonight.

Slamming the door, she rushed to the door, but her pace slowed to a walk when a black convertible with Florida plates came into view. She opened the front door, quickly dialing in the code and tucking her jacket and purse into the closet as voices murmured from the kitchen.

“I can’t believe you got this woman pregnant and we haven’t even met her! What kind of woman is she? And why did I have to hear about it second hand, John Francis? I thought you were smarter than that.”

Tessa stopped at the threshold of the kitchen. The rounded face of Jon’s mother was cool with disdain as she faced her son. Perfectly coifed ash blonde hair curved against her jaw line. Flashes of gold and diamonds glittered from her fingers, wrist, and ears but instead of similarly elegant clothing she wore a garish print blouse that was a size too big and white slacks that did not suit the NJ climate.

“Ma!” Jon’s voice was exasperated. “We’ve been over this a million times now.”

“Maybe on the million and one you can make your mother understand if you were thinking with your brain or just—“

“Carol,” an older man, that was a craggier version of Jon, said with a warning voice.

“No, I think that as his mother, I deserve a better answer.”

“It was my fault. It wasn’t planned.”

Jon spun at the sound of her voice. “Tessa,” he rounded his mother and tried to take her hand, but she tucked both under her arms. His eyes flashed wide with hurt for a moment before his face blanked. He cleared his throat. “I was hoping you’d check your messages before you got here.”

Did he want her to stay away? “I’m sorry,” she looked down at the floor, then up catching his father’s soft smile. Her gaze found his mother, and her stance was eerily similar to hers. Tessa dropped her arms. God, would nothing be right between them now? Even his mother had cause to hate her.

“Don’t be sorry.” Jon moved in closer, his hand resting on her lower back. “My mother is just upset.”

She stiffened. Upset? The woman was a shrew.

“Tessa, this is my mother, Carol Bongiovi and my father, John.”

John Sr. stood and held out his hand. “Pleased to meet you, Tessa. We’ve heard quite a bit about you. I’m just sorry we barged in on you without warning.”

“This isn’t her house,” Carol said, her bracelets jangling as she crossed her arms over her ample chest. “I can barge in on my son whenever I want to. It’s a mother’s prerogative.”

Tessa stilled at the emphasis on mother. Was that a slam about the baby? Or was it just to show her who was head hen in the pecking order? She pressed her lips together and gave his father a tight smile when he lifted his other hand to cover hers. “Carol’s just a little tired.”

“Don’t make excuses for me, John. I’m not tired, I’m upset.” Carol’s face had gone from a drawn features with too much blusher, to a deep red. “I’m allowed to be upset!”

Tessa swallowed and turned to his mother. “It’s not exactly how I imagined meeting you, Mrs. Bongiovi, but I’m glad it finally happened.” She held out her hand but Carol ignored it. The woman’s eyes didn’t hold a lick of warmth. They were Jon’s eyes and yet not.

“Ma!” Jon started forward.

“No, it’s okay.” Tessa dropped her hand back to her side, unable to get rid of the fist that had formed.

“No, it’s not okay.” His face was stony and the rage in his eyes made her feel a little bit better. “It’s rude. I wasn’t raised to be rude.” Jon dragged her into his side. “This is as much Tessa’s home as it is mine and I won’t have you insult her in my house.”

“This is your family’s house, not hers.” Carol lifted her chin, eyes glittering like the ice at her ears.

Tessa couldn’t stop the quick gasp that time. Dammit. What had gone wrong? Had she done something? How much had Jon told her about their problems? God, when had the house become so cold? Jon’s arm hooked around her hip until she was practically plastered to his chest. She pushed at him to get free but he didn’t budge. And those blasted new muscles that had turned her on earlier were damned inconvenient now.

“Tessa’s part of my family.”

“Oh Jonny grow up, she’s just some woman you got knocked up. You were saved from—“

“Carol that is enough!” The booming of John Sr’s voice was almost identical to the angry Jon she’d seen on a few occasions over their time together. “I know you’re upset, but you cannot talk about Tessa like she’s not even in the rooom. You’re out of control.”

Jon’s jaw turned to granite as he pressed her cheek to his chest. Shock and a strange sort of disconnection left her limp against him. “You need to leave. Now.” Jon’s voice was dark as his hold tightened on her.

“Oh and I suppose control is just what we need now? My heart is broken because my boy can’t come to me and tell me about a woman he’s supposed to be in love with. Well then he can’t really be in love with her, can he? A mother knows these things. It’s a good thing, she’s sterile now so that I don’t have to worry about her trying to get her clutches into you again.” She lurched forward and Tessa realized the flush to her face had as much to do with alcohol as anger.

“Carol!” John Sr. stood, his chair, knocking back, clattering against the tile. Tessa flinched, wrenching away when his touch went to bruising.

“Tessa!” Jon chased after her as she flew to the door. “Please, baby.” He curled his fingers around her wrist, pulling her away from the door. “Please don’t go, not like this.”

“Let go!” It felt like it was a shout in her head, but he didn’t listen. She tried again, the words barely passing her lips. “Let me go.” One hand was wrapped around the brass door handle and one hand trapped in his. “Please,” she whimpered and hated herself for it. She stared at the latch, the polished surface wobbling as darkness crept in on her. Dots blanked out part of her vision as the screaming migraine swooped down on her.

“She doesn’t know what she’s saying. She’s drunk. Tessa my mother is definitely not June Cleaver. She’s…” his voice trailed off. “Please. I don’t feel that way, you know that I don’t.”

Did she? He didn’t share her with anyone. Even now when they were out of the proverbial closet, she was still as in the dark as the first week they were together. Hidden away. Perfect in their cocoon. A part of him, but not. And now nothing to even share with him. Just her. Only her. No babies, never something that would be part him and part her.

The spike that threatened clawed through her head. No God, not now. She needed to get home, away from him for now. She needed to be able to think and to be alone. “Jon, I need my purse.” She pressed her forehead into the door, her fingers wrapping around the frame.

“Tessa, let’s talk about this. I don’t want you—“

Her knees buckled as the pain overwhelmed her. The sounds in the room seemed to clash and clang. “Please.” The migraines had been a part of her life since the hospital, but never like this. Never this strong.

His face came into her line of vision, but she couldn’t quite hear him. All the other noises were competing. “Purse,” she managed to spit out one more time. And then he was gone. It felt like an eternity but he was back with the pill bottle cupping around her hand, shaking out one of her precious Relpax.

She downed it dry. Just thirty minutes and she could drive. Just thirty. Please God. She yelped as Jon lifted her into his arms. Again, she could hear a barrage of voices, but nothing made sense as the nausea rolled hot and thick in her gut. Slick, ugly sweat coated her skin and she sucked back a breath, her nose buried into the side of his neck. She didn’t even have the strength to tell him to put her down.

She felt his kiss on her damp forehead and the squish of cushions beneath her. His leather couch cradling her close. There was nothing she could do but wait it out.

Thirty minutes.

And she was gone.