Dare To Love Again

I stood just inside the doorway, feeling out of my depth. I was embarrassed at the way he was treating me and blaming myself because I knew I deserved it. He’ll never know how much I regret my decision at least ten times a day. Or how I wish daily for a miracle that would erase the past and take us back. Back to the day before the day, I made the biggest mistake of my life.* * *I snapped myself out of my daydream just as I saw the luxury car with the driver at the wheel pull in beside me. I didn’t let my eyes go to the backseat, where Calen was no doubt seated. It has only been a day and a half since he met his son for the first time, and here we are already.

Last night I’d had to beg him to let me take the baby back home with me since he didn’t have a nursery set up or anything that was suitable for baby Calen to safely sleep on. I wasn’t very surprised when he insisted on coming home with us and didn’t put up much of a fight even though the thought of him in my now seemingly tiny apartment filled me with anticipation and dread. Not that it would’ve mattered had I done so.

His behavior, cold as it was made it very clear that he didn’t care what I thought and had no interest in my opinion. He’d driven on my tail back to the apartment as if he were afraid that I’d drive off into the night, and he’d never see his son again.

Once back at the apartment, he was back to pretending I didn’t exist, and I was just a little jealous at the ease with which my son accepted him. My little one seemed starved for male attention, something he’s never had, and something I honestly never really gave much thought to until I watched him laugh and play with his dad.

I felt like a stranger looking in at the two of them, and nothing had ever felt so lonely. Once the baby had fallen asleep on his daddy’s chest, Calen had put him to bed in his crib. I grew increasingly nervous now that the buffer of our child was gone, but I need not have worried. He was there for his son, and no one else, and my presence was pretty much superfluous.

I felt like I was in the way, and wasn’t even allowed to perform my nightly ritual of holding my son for a just a little while longer while he slept before putting him to bed for the night. Calen hadn’t put him down since he took him from the car, except for the drive here, and then he’d snatched him up into his arms again.

He’d slept in the baby’s room on the floor next to the crib as if expecting me to disappear with him in the night. That had hurt more than expected, the fact that he didn’t trust me, but what did I expect after what I’d done to him.

He hadn’t said two words to me; his only outward reaction apart from the time he spent talking to our son was his look of disgust when he walked into my apartment for the first time. It’s not that my place was a dump or in a bad neighborhood. But for someone who’d been born with a gold spoon in his mouth, I can see why he was annoyed by the fact that his son’s first year had been spent in a place that he found less than ideal.

In the morning, he’d awakened with the baby and watched as I fed him, which had been a bit embarrassing since my son refuses to take anything but my breasts, in the end, that became the thing that saved me from being separated from him since his father was hell-bent on taking him with him.

I’d just taken Calen Jr. off the tit when his dad’s voice broke the silence that seemed even heavier with him here in the small space that had offered me so much comfort even the day before, but now felt like a coffin. “Pack some stuff for my son; he’s coming home with me. Not too much, just what he’ll need for a day or so before I can get him what he needs.” My heart almost fell out of my chest at his words spoken so coldly he could’ve been talking to the child’s nanny for all the inflection in his tone.

“You can’t take him away from me; I’m his mother, I’m the only one who’s taken care of him his whole life.” I held my baby close as if expecting him to be dragged out of my arms any second. Surely he wouldn’t be this cruel; he must remember some of the warmth we’d shared. My mind was grasping at straws looking for a way out, but his next words stung and told me all I needed to know about what he was really thinking, how he really felt.