Through His Eyes

“What are your plans this weekend?” he asks, not looking at me as he drops his towel and pulls his boxers up his legs.

“Celeste is throwing Sky a birthday party at their place. She’s turning eighteen.” Skyla is my niece—Jase and Celeste’s daughter. When she was younger, before Jase and Celeste got together, we were close. Helping Jase to raise her is what made me realize I wanted my own family. I wanted someone to love and to love me back. I wanted to feel wanted and needed. Once Jase and Celeste got together, Skyla and Celeste hit it off straight away. They’re like two peas in a pod. I’m glad Skyla has a full-time mother-figure in her life, but I can’t help but wish we had the bond they share. Maybe one day I’ll have the kind of relationship they have, with my son or daughter.

“I have to work, so I won’t be able to go.” I don’t know why he’s letting me know this. He never comes to any of my family functions anymore.

“Okay, will I see you at home afterward?”

He stills in his place for a split-second, and if I wasn’t looking for it, I wouldn’t have noticed. But now my eyes are wide open, and I’m definitely looking. “Probably not,” he says. “I have a late meeting.” He clears his throat then continues. “I might not make it home. I’ll probably just stay at the office.”

Liar. Cheater. Asshole.

“But tomorrow is the weekend,” I push. I never push. I never question. I just accept. And I hate I’ve become that woman who just accepts. “Why would you spend the night when it will be Sunday? You don’t work on Sunday. I was thinking we could go to the farmer’s market like we used to. Pick up some fresh fruits and vegetables.” When we first got together, we used to go to the farmer’s market every Sunday. We would check out each booth, hand in hand, laughing and talking about our week. Even when he was busy, he would make sure he left Sundays open for us.

“Maybe next weekend,” he says, his eyes meeting mine through his reflection in the mirror. “This meeting is too important.” And it’s in this moment I know without a doubt my husband cheating on me isn’t something new. His flat tone and blank expression are identical to the ones he’s been giving me for too long. Of course, I couldn’t have dug my head out of the sand before I got pregnant by my lying, cheating husband. And of course, after years of trying, and failing, we were successful the one time he came home sloppy drunk and actually wanted me—only to wake up the next morning and not even remember it.

He pulls his shirt over his head and says, “I have work to do. Goodnight,” then leaves the room as quickly as he came.

Two

Quinn

I’m sitting in the backyard of my brother and Celeste’s home, at Skyla’s birthday party, watching everyone’s kids run around and play. The laughter that fills the air should have my heart swelling with love, but instead, it fills me with dread. I was going to tell Rick this morning I’m pregnant, but when I woke up, he was already gone. No note, no kiss goodbye, not even a text message. Some would say I’m crazy for telling him I’m pregnant. I should run as far away from him as possible, but I know better. This isn’t some romance novel. I’m not going to escape and find myself some perfect single guy next door to fall in love with while I attempt to rebuild my shell of a life. This is real life, and in my reality, I have to deal with the cards I’ve been dealt. If I don’t play nice, I know Rick will have no problem taking our baby away from me. He has more money than God, and I’ve seen the cruel and ruthless way he does business. There’s a reason the companies he and his father run are so successful. My husband is a smart, conniving, businessman who never holds back. The last thing I need is for him to do what my father did to Jase and Jax’s mom—prove me to be an unfit mom and take my baby from me.

I’m going to have to play nice. Let Rick take the lead. He’s apparently busy screwing his way through New York, and as long as I continue to turn a blind eye, he will continue to do so while I raise our baby. His money will pay for everything materialistic our child needs, while my love will provide everything he, or she, emotionally needs. That is if I can somehow keep him from putting me down in front of our child… I will not allow my baby to suffer like I did. I won’t argue with Rick. I won’t fight against him. I won’t let my baby become a pawn in this horrible game I’m being forced to play. I’ll do my best to be the wife he wants me to be, so I can give my baby a stable and loving home.