Going Deep (Imperfect Love 2)

“I shouldn’t have pushed you away, Mel,” I tell her. “I should’ve pulled you into my dorm and told you it would all be okay. Had I not pushed you away our baby would be here with us.”

She shakes her head. “No, you did what anyone would do. You reacted out of shock. We were both so young. Just babies ourselves. I struggle every day with being thankful for my life because had I had our baby, I wouldn’t have my two beautiful daughters.” More tears race down her face. “I just hate myself for…” Killing our baby. She wants to say it, but she can’t even get the words out.

“I know,” I tell her, giving her an out. I don’t need to hear the words. I’ve felt them every day for the last decade. While I’ve been being eaten up by guilt all these years, I can’t even possibly fathom what this woman has been feeling, knowing she’s the one who ultimately had to make that decision. It wasn’t my body the baby was in. I didn’t have a choice in the matter. I want to be mad at her for not choosing to keep our baby. I want to be mad at myself for not reacting the right way quicker. But she’s right. We were just babies, and we both made decisions we have to live with. I thought coming here, I would tell her that the last ten years I haven’t had sex so I could never put myself in that position again, that I wanted our baby and would’ve loved him or her, but I decide against it. She already feels guilty. She doesn’t need more weight added to her load.

So, instead I say the only thing that’s left to say, “I forgive you, Melanie, and I hope you can forgive me too.”

Fresh tears escape her lids. “Thank you, Killian.” She sniffles loudly. “And just so you know, I forgave you a long time ago.”

I stand and give her a hug. “Don’t ever feel bad for the beautiful family you have,” I whisper. “One choice shouldn’t dictate the rest of your life. You deserve to be happy.”

I sit back down, and a few minutes later, our food is brought out. We eat, mostly in silence. When the waiter brings me the bill, I pay and walk Melanie out.

“Thank you for asking to meet up,” she says when we get to her car. “I didn’t realize how much I needed your forgiveness.”

“Probably as much as I needed yours.” I give her one last hug. “Have a good life, Mel.”

“You too, Kill.”

As I get in my car and think about everything we discussed, my mind goes to what Melanie said about struggling to be thankful for her family, knowing they came at the cost of our baby. It’s time for both of us to move forward. We can’t change what happened, and while I would give anything to have a chance to raise our baby, my mind goes to Giselle, and I have to wonder if maybe everything happens for a reason. If Giselle is my reason. When I wouldn’t let any other woman into my heart or bed, I let her in. I didn’t even ask if she was on birth control when we finally had sex. It just felt right with her. It’s because she’s the one. Even if she sticks with her decision to never want children, I know she’s the woman I want to spend my life with. Just simply being with her is enough for me.

Instead of going back to the hotel, I take a detour into the city. There’s somewhere I need to stop first. When I get back to the hotel, Giselle is sleeping. Only this time she’s lying in bed with her laptop still open, which tells me she woke up and later fell back asleep. My poor woman is working herself to death. I’m not sure how much longer she can keep going like this.

When I move the laptop from the bed to set it on the nightstand, it comes to life. On the screen are online classified ads. She was looking for another job. To the left of the website is a digital notepad with a list of the jobs she’s found so far: maid services at a couple different hotels, a nighttime cleaning position for a law office. I scroll farther and see a few waitress positions at a few different diners. My eyes flit to Giselle, who is snuggled up in her blanket. She’s dealing with this because of me. I know she wants to take on the world alone, but she can’t do it all. And if it wasn’t for her loving me, she wouldn’t have to deal with this.

I’m sure she’s going to give me shit for this later, but I’ll deal with it when the time comes. Taking her laptop out to the main room, I search for her usernames and passwords. Once I find them, I forward them to my email then delete it in her sent mail. I close her laptop and set it on the counter. Then I pull up the email on my phone and get to work.