TWENTY TWO

"No, I am not," Cara shakes her head, trying to convince herself more than Cassie. "He's arrogant, an ass, and just plain rude. How could I fall for him? It's just the hormones, that's all."

"Sure, blame your unborn kids," Cassie replies, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Look, I'll call you tomorrow morning. I've got an early start with Sam."

"Sorry for disturbing your sleep," Cara apologizes. Cassie always wakes up early to get Sam ready for school and make breakfast.

"Nonsense, just don't do anything stupid before then," Cassie jokes.

"I'll try," Cara mutters before ending the call.

"Hey," a voice cuts through the quiet room.

Cara turns, spotting Xavier stepping into the light. "Hey, where've you been all day?" she asks, noting the tear stains on his face.

He looks at her, eyes still red. It's the first time she's seen him this subdued. "Were you crying?" Xavier asks, noticing the similar streaks on her cheeks.

"Maybe," Cara admits, patting the spot on the couch next to her. "Come sit."

"Well, at least we're sad together," Xavier says, sitting beside her and leaning his head on her shoulder.

For a while, the room is filled with a comfortable silence until Xavier finally whispers, "I miss them."

"I miss mine too," Cara whispers back.

"I don't know how Xander keeps it all together."

"If you think watching this boring documentary," Cara gestures at the screen, "and drinking wine is keeping it together, trust me, you're wrong. Crying it out is the healthiest way."

"Is he why you were crying?"

"Yeah, he's a fucking asshole," Cara says, anger flashing in her eyes.

"I know," Xavier chuckles softly.

They lapse back into silence, both lost in their thoughts.

"I didn't drink," Xavier says out of nowhere, not even sure why he felt the need to share.

"I can tell, and I'm proud of you," Cara whispers.

~~~

"You were so happy last night," Mark says, pulling on his boxers and walking up to Liza, who's already dressed and perfecting her makeup in front of the mirror.

"And I still am," Liza replies, swiping on a final layer of red lipstick.

"Hmm, good morning," Mark mumbles, leaning in for a kiss, but Liza blocks him with her hand.

"Hell no," Liza says firmly.

"What about last night?" Mark asks, his stomach sinking as he starts to feel used again.

For him, last night was amazing. He couldn't believe how cheerful Liza was, a rare sight since her breakup with Xander.

"Alex and his little girlfriend are about to break up, and I'm celebrating," Liza says with a triumphant smile, letting her hair fall loose.

Of course, it's about Xander. Mark feels stupid for thinking she was finally over him.

"It's always about Xander, isn't it?" Mark rolls his eyes, moving away from the mirror to gather his clothes.

"And it's always going to be about him," Liza says, turning to watch him dress hurriedly. "When we get back together, this," she gestures between them, "can't happen again."

"Yeah, I get that," Mark says, searching for his sneakers, which got flung across the room during last night's heated moments.

"I might have to fire you as my manager too. Xander won't be comfortable having you around," Liza adds with a pout.

"You're delusional. Xander's not getting back with you," Mark snaps, spite edging his voice.

"We'll see about that," Liza replies, turning back to admire herself in the mirror.

~~~

"Good morning," Xavier greets as he steps into the kitchen where Cara is focused on her pancakes.

"Aren't you a ray of sunshine," Cara comments dryly, noticing the dartboard in his hands. "What's that for?"

"Helping you vent your anger," Xavier replies, setting it up on the wall near the fridge.

He pulls out two photos, one of Liza and the other of Xander. "Who are you more pissed at?"

Cara leaves her plate and walks over, pointing to Xander's photo. "Definitely your brother."

"Okay then," Xavier says, pinning Xander's picture to the board and handing Cara the darts.

"I wish I could throw it at his actual head," Cara mutters as she takes aim, nailing the dart right between his eyes.

"Whoa, you're on fire," Xavier laughs, taking his own shot.

Just then, Xander walks into the kitchen, dressed in his usual suit, a briefcase in hand. He stops when he sees them aiming darts at his picture.

"How mature, guys," Xander comments, setting his briefcase on the counter.

They ignore him, continuing their game.

"Cara, can we talk?" Xander asks, walking up to her as she focuses on the dartboard, imagining it's his actual face.

"No, I'm busy," Cara says, barely sparing him a glance.

"Bro, can you give us a minute?" Xander turns to Xavier, hoping he'll give them some privacy.

Xavier sighs and drops the darts. "I've got a photoshoot to prep for anyway," he says, leaving the room.

Cara shoots him a betrayed look as he exits.

"Did you see my flowers?" Xander asks, trying to keep his tone light.

"Yeah, they're in the trash," Cara replies, not missing a beat as she lines up another dart.

"Guess that means apology denied," Xander says with a faint smile.

"Cara," he tries again.

She ignores him, pulling the darts out of the board. But before she can turn away, Xander grabs her arm, pulling her close.

"Let me go," she snaps, trying to ignore how good he smells.

"I'm sorry about last night. I shouldn't have snapped like that," Xander says, his voice soft.

His apology only makes her angrier. How can he still not get why she's really mad?

"Whatever, apology accepted," Cara mutters, rolling her eyes as she tries to pull away, but Xander holds her firm.

"I'm not done," he says, a small smile playing on his lips. "If this is about Liza and me—"

"You don't need to apologize. It's not like I have any right to be mad," Cara cuts him off.

"Let me finish," Xander insists.

Cara closes her mouth, waiting for him to continue.

"Yeah, you don't have any right to be mad," Xander says, his tone serious. "But I want you to. I want you to have that right."

"W-What?" Cara stammers, her mind racing with possibilities. She doesn't want to get her hopes up only to look like a fool.

Xander starts to say more, but his phone rings, cutting him off. He pulls it from his pocket, glancing at the screen.

"I need to take this," he mutters, stepping back and answering the call, leaving Cara to stew in her thoughts.

When he finishes, Xander returns to stand in front of her. "Can we talk tonight, over dinner?" he asks, a teasing smile on his lips.

"Like a da-date?" Cara stutters, barely able to contain her shock—and excitement.

"Yeah, a date."

~~~

"It's like every time I'm in your closet, there's something new," Cassie says, pulling a red dress off its hanger.

Cara had called her over to help pick an outfit for tonight, and after trying on over twenty dresses, she's getting frustrated.

She wants to look perfect.

"Courtesy of Xander," Cara says, eyeing the dress.

"Where's he taking you for dinner?" Cassie asks, tossing the red dress into the "no" pile.

"I don't know, but he mentioned something about flying out in his jet," Cara says, trying to sound casual, but inside, she's freaking out.

"Whoa, you're going to have a rich boyfriend," Cassie teases.

"Oh please, it's just a date," Cara rolls her eyes, though she's hoping they can get through it without one of them trying to kill the other.

"Don't play it cool with me. I know you're already planning the wedding in your head," Cassie accuses, pulling out a blue lace dress.

"No, I'm not," Cara denies, though she's not very convincing.

"This is it," Cassie declares, holding up the knee-length dress. Cara nods in approval. "Try it on," Cassie encourages.

~~~

"I've got to go," Cassie says, grabbing the last cookie from the tray.

"Tell Sam her aunt misses her," Cara calls as Cassie heads for the door.

"I will," Cassie shouts back before leaving.

Cara reaches for another cookie, only to realize the tray is empty. She groans in frustration.

You'd think she'd cut back on eating to fit into her blue dress tonight, but she's nervous, and when Cara's nervous, she eats.

Jonathan had brought a dozen cookies just thirty minutes ago, and she's already devoured half.

Trying to resist, Cara finds herself heading downstairs, hoping to sweet-talk Jonathan into baking more.

"Jon?" she calls out as she reaches the bottom step.

"Jonathan," she tries again, using his full name, knowing how he insists on it.

"I don't think he's around, Madam," Mrs. Colton, one of the house staff, answers.

"Oh, do you know who baked the cookies?" Cara pouts.

"That would be me, Madam," Mrs. Colton says with a smile. "Do you want more?"

"Yes please," Cara says as she hands over the tray to the woman.

"By the way, this was delivered to the house for Sir Alexander." Mrs. Colton transfers the tray to her left hand and uses her right hand to bring out an envelope.

"I will give it to him," Cara assures, taking it from her hand.

~~~

The envelope is from that bitch of a doctor, Gwen, and Cara is tempted to open it.

She's already over her mental argument of respecting his privacy. And now she's at the stage of justifying what she's about to do. Her justification is, if it has something that does with her babies, then she has to know.

Cara walks over to the table where she had dropped the envelope and opens it carefully before she brings it to read its content.

Her eyes scan through the paper, with anger rising in her.

Did he take a DNA test without her knowledge?

"This asshole,"

~~~~