But it seems to be happening again. For some reason, Leah’s slipping out of my reach.
And like before, I don’t know why. I don’t know anything anymore.
I swallow. “You know, Leah, I’m a simple man. You really want me to leave you alone? Fine. I’ll leave you alone.”
I head out of her bedroom and slam the door behind me.
Chapter Seventeen
Leah
I slap my forehead in the middle of work as I remember the argument I had with Gavin a few days ago. A breath of regret leaves my lips.
I shouldn’t have said all those things to him. I especially shouldn’t have made that last remark in reference to Nadine.
I grip my hair as I shake my head. God, I’m so stupid.
I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean any of it. I was tired- physically and mentally- so I said the first things that came to my mind. I had no idea that it would be so tiring to keep my secret and try to pretend that I was okay. I did try. I thought I could do it, that I could go on as if nothing had changed.
I was wrong. I overestimated myself and underestimated the weight of the secret I was keeping. I tried to forget about it, but it haunted me every moment. The voice in my head just wouldn’t let me be. It kept teasing me with all the things that could happen if I told Gavin about the baby- even if he resented me, I’d get to keep the baby; even if I was in a loveless marriage, I’d be rich and comfortable, able to do everything else I wanted. Why should I want more when I’ve never had nearly as much? Why should I worry about ruining his reputation when my life has been ruined?
The secret was like a bomb ticking inside me. Outside, I tried to carry on. Inside, I was falling apart. Then I started falling apart on the outside. When I did, I tried to keep Gavin away. If I saw less of him, maybe I wouldn’t have such a hard time. I needed space. I needed room to breathe. I needed time to compose myself, to build a thicker wall around myself.
But he wouldn’t just stay away. That night, he cornered me and I lashed out in hopes of holding on to what little of me I had left. I was in pain and I hurt him.
I hurt Gavin.
It’s no wonder, then, that he hasn’t been around. He really has left me alone, and that makes me feel even more alone. I know I should apologize. I’d like to. But if I try to reconcile with him, I have to tell him my secret, and I’m still not sure I want to.
I rest my head against the edge of the couch and stare at the ceiling.
Maybe this is for the best. At least now I don’t have to try so hard to pretend I’m okay. I’ll just do my best to hang on until it’s time for me to have the baby, and after I’ve given the baby up, after the deed is done, then maybe I can move on. Maybe I can forget about the secret then. Maybe I can even work my way back into Gavin’s favor, and if not, I’ll just have to live with that.
I don’t deserve his love, after all.
I close my eyes and draw a deep breath.
Just focus on what you came here for- a good future for your child, a chance at a bright future for yourself. A fresh start. A chance to stand up on your own two feet.
That’s right. Nothing more. Nothing less.
I lift my head and glance at my tummy. Right. I just have to focus on that and hang on until the baby is born.
I put my hand over my tummy as I straighten my back. Suddenly, I stop as I feel movement beneath my palm.
What the…?
And there it is again, stronger this time.
A kick. My baby’s kick.
Without warning, tears gush out of my eyes. I don’t even know why. I don’t know what I’m feeling- joy or sadness. All I know is that I suddenly no longer feel alone.
I smile. “You’re telling me we can do this, right? That we can get through the next few months?”
I don’t feel any more movement, but that’s fine. I know what I felt and it’s enough to give me strength.
I wipe my tears.
I’ll be fine. Until the baby is born, I’ll be fine. Even afterwards, I’ll be fine.
“We’ll both be fine,” I tell the baby in my womb. “We can do this.”
I can do this.
~
I can’t do this, after all, I realize as I gaze at the moving image of my baby on the screen.
It’s black and white, yet I can clearly see the baby’s head, the baby’s hands, the baby’s feet. I can even see his nose.