by Kate Swain
She shook her head. “No. Here is the terrible truth. I love you, Mark. I really do. I’ve loved you and wanted you for a long time. But I can’t trust you. And never will.”
Two things that I had never expected to happen had just happened simultaneously. She declared her love for me and that lifted my heart but she also did not and would not trust me, causing my world to crash. I felt myself falling into an emotional abyss. Physically, I needed to sit down. I was feeling unsteady.
“You don’t trust me?”
She shook her head. “Mark, let’s go inside. It’s cold. You do not look comfortable.”
I nodded. We were standing in the doorway, and the wind was cold. But she misunderstood the real discomfort I was experiencing. I followed her into the studio, glad that she was still talking with me.
“It looks amazing in here,” I said. “Maddy…you’ve accomplished so much here already. Your opening night was a major success. Everyone had a great time and your dance performance was amazing. I loved every second of it. You were beautiful.”
“It went well,” she said. Her voice suddenly shifted, coming from a place very far away. She was looking upset now—more upset than I had ever seen her.
We sat down at a table.
“Maddy, I want to tell you that everything I did was a huge accident. I love you. I wish I could have demonstrated my love for you in better ways.” I looked into her eyes.
“You say you love me?” She stared right at me and then asked, “And what happened when you went out to the bar with the guys? Adam told me everything and how you left with a woman. I know she went home with you.”
“I thought you might have heard about that.” I swallowed hard. “I completely regret that night and it was not what it seems,” I pleaded.
Maddy smiled. “Well, that makes me feel a bit better,” she said. Her eyes were tired and it was clear that she didn’t believe me. I drew a breath.
“Maddy, I mean it. What happened that night was a huge disaster from start to finish. I got really drunk, something that I used to do when I could not face my own emotions. I realize now that that night I was struggling with my feelings for you and I did not know what to do about it. After meeting the guys and having a few drinks, I blacked out and don’t actually remember anything that happened. I woke up in the morning, boots off, but fully clothed on my couch at home,” I said, seeing her expression shift. I could see she thought I was trying to talk my way out of a bad situation.
“I was the most hungover I’ve been, maybe the worst hangover ever actually. I went to the bathroom and there was lipstick scribbled on my mirror. I had no idea how that got there. Later in the day, I got together with Adam and he helped fill in some of what happened the night before. He said I was very drunk and Addison, the woman who works at the dealership by the shop, basically took me home. I was in no shape to drive.”
“Well…” she inquired.
“Again, I don’t remember anything from that night and I am pretty sure nothing happened between Addison and me. I do not want to be with her, that you should know. And I know all of this sounds terrible and it is. But it doesn’t matter what happened,” I said swiftly. “What you need to know is that the only person I want and love is you.”
She shut her eyes. Her posture was stiff. I held my breath. And after a moment, she started talking.
“Mark… I have always liked you. Since we were kids, I was attracted to you. But things just… it just can’t be that way between us. We are not right for each other.”
“What way?” I asked hesitatingly. “Maddy! I have always loved you. I know I had a funny way of showing it, but…” I trailed off as she looked down.
“Mark, I love you.” She held my gaze. Her eyes were wide and clear and there was nothing in them except honesty. “I wish that things could be different. But they can’t. Really. You are who you are.”
“But I’m not like that!” I countered.
“I want to think so, too,” she said gently. “Truly. But I can’t believe that.”
“Maddy,” I said, hastily now. “Please. I will do anything to show you that I’m not like that. And that I can be true and trusted and there for you always. I should have shown you ages ago. I was a coward.”
“Maybe,” she said softly. “And maybe I was, too, for not acting on my feelings. But I can’t make this work now. And neither can you. If there was anything you could do, I would tell you. But I just don’t trust you, Mark. And that is not going to change.”
I looked down. I was going to cry, and I didn’t want her to see and think that I was manipulating her. I was hurting, and feeling hopeless. I had no idea what to do. I waited, then breathed in.
“Maddy, are you sure there is nothing I can do to win your trust?”
“No,” she said. “There isn’t. I just don’t have the ability to trust you.”
We sat across from each other, a table between us, and we looked hopelessly at each other. Her hands were on the desk. I put a hand on hers.
We sat like that, with our hands clasped, for what felt like an eternity in dead silence.
“I should go,” I said. I didn’t want to. In this moment, I held her hand and things felt so right. But I also knew that the moment I walked out of that door, I knew I couldn’t come back.
“I should.”
We sat there, my eyes on hers, those blue depths staring into mine. Gently, I lifted my hand, wiping a hair off her cheek. She sat still. Her skin was soft. Her eyes were round.
“Maddy,” I said softly. My throat was tight and I stood up, knowing that if I stayed a moment longer, I would cry. I had come here to tell her I was sorry, that I regretted my behavior, that I loved her with all of my heart.
I walked to the door. She didn’t stop me, though I wished with every step I took she would have called out to asked me to stay.
As I reached the door, I heard her clear her throat. “Thank you for coming.”
I looked at the wall beside the door, steadying myself. A shot in the back would have hurt less than what I felt at that moment.
“I had to come and tell you how I felt,” I said.
I turned around and looked into her eyes. We said nothing. My throat was too tight to speak. I nodded my head once, trying to convey all of my love for her and my profound regret for what happened.
She nodded back. Her eyes were damp. “If you’ve parked in the road, you should probably move your vehicle.”
“Maddy…”
“Thank you for coming to see me.”
I nodded, knowing that she was ready for me to leave . I turned around and walked into the daylight.
In my car, I sat still, eyes closed. I had walked in there full of hope. I had come out knowing I was locked out of her life forever. I sat there weeping like a child and full of regret.
23
Maddy
I went over to the door and locked it. Then I sat down at the desk. I was shaking. I took out the test from my bag. I looked at the results and lost all sense of everything.
I had really thought that maybe I was late this month. That maybe it was the stress. Or the flu.
But I am pregnant.
I didn’t know what to think.
The shock was greater than anything I had anticipated. I had no idea that it would feel like this. On one hand, it was just so surreal that I still could not believe I was pregnant. On the other hand, my heart felt a flicker of joy. I was pregnant! I was expecting a child.
I had a child inside me—Mark’s child.
I shut my eyes. The spark of joy was outweighed by a picture of anxiety. I was a dancer! I had just started my own studio. How was I going to manage a studio and teach while being pregnant? Where would I live? I couldn’t have a child while I was living with Adam!
I pressed my fingers to my eyelids, my mind awash in confusion and crazy logistical questions. I could make a bedroom for the child in the spare room. I could find a child care center. I could apply for government programs a
nd services and maybe I could qualify for those.
There was a way I could make this work. I had no idea how to do this, though — if I was actually ready for it. I didn’t know if I felt like a mother; if this was something I was ready to do.
A strong certainty flowed through me at the thought of that. This was my child and I was going to keep it. Four years ago, at the start of my studies, it would have been another question. Now, though, I knew I could keep the baby.
“I am doing this.”
I stood up and found myself with a new purpose in life flowing through me. I took the test and slipped it back into my bag. I would dispose of it later. I made plans. I would go to my doctor to get the pregnancy confirmed. Then I will put together a schedule and list of things needed for parenthood, everything from a baby crib to child care.
First, though, I thought, I needed to take care of myself. I pulled out my phone and dialed Becca’s number.
“Becca?” I said, as soon as she answered my call. “Hi. Can I come over? You’re on lunch now?”
“Yeah,” she replied. “It’s two-thirty. I have a client at three-thirty, but I can squeeze in a quick lunch. I’ve been working all morning. This is great!”
“Thanks so much,” I said, feeling relieved suddenly. It would be good to tell someone my secret.
“Is something wrong?” Becca asked me.
“No. I just need to talk.”
“Okay,” she said, sounding concerned. “See you in twenty minutes. Shall we meet at Mallory’s?”
“Sure,” I said. That was the cafe near her offices. I got into the pickup and drove there, feeling oddly calm.
Becca was seated at a table in the corner. Mallory’s wasn’t crowded at this time, and we had half the room to ourselves. I was grateful for the privacy we would have. I joined her and the first thing out of my mouth was, “Becca, I think I’m pregnant.”
She stared at me. I hadn’t meant to say it just like that. But the secret had been weighing on me and I needed to tell somebody. She stared at me, then she smiled.
“That’s amazing! I’m so glad.”
I blinked and shook my head. That was absolutely not the response I’d expected. I had thought she might be worried, or shocked, or even judgmental. Not that I thought Becca would judge me. I just hadn’t thought that there could be such a positive reaction to my situation.
“Thanks,” I said. I smiled. Suddenly, the small flame of joy that I had experienced earlier flared and became brighter. I felt it glow in me, warming my heart.
“Can I ask a question?” she cleared her throat. “Who is the…”
“Mark.”
She stared at me. Her smile wavered a little and her eyes got wide. “Mark? Wow!” she smiled at me, but I could tell that she was worried for me. Her next question was, “does he know?”
I looked at my hands. “No.”
I wondered, as I thought about it, if I should call him and tell him. He had made an effort to talk to me and in our conversation he opened up in a way that I had never thought possible. I still didn’t know if I could trust him or if he was being honest.
“Maddy,” she said gently. “Do you think that you should tell him, just maybe?”
“Why?” I asked. I was genuinely unsure. I wanted to tell him, but at the same time I had no idea if he wanted to be a father. I had no idea if he just said all those things earlier to try and clear things up. I did not trust him and it would be complicated if I included him in all of this.
“Maddy, it’s his child. I know he would want to know,” Becca said softly. “He does care.”
“Maybe,” I said, lifting an eyebrow. “He’s charming. It’s easy to believe what he says.”
“What do you mean,” Becca asked. I told her all about Mark’s visit to the studio earlier and how he expressed his feelings for me and explained what happened at the bar that night he went home with a woman.
“Wow,” Maddy said. “Whatever you do with your relationship with Mark, you need to have an open mind when it comes to your baby…” Becca looked worried. “It isn’t just you. The baby should have a chance to know the father.”
“I know,” I said. I knew she was right, but I was wary of approaching Mark. If he judged me, or demanded that I abort the baby…
“Maddy, give him a chance, especially after what he told you today.”
I drew in a breath. “You’re right,” I said slowly. “If his reaction is horrible, then I know that he was just acting like a nice guy and that his intentions were not authentic.”
“Well, yeah,” Becca nodded. “That’s right. It’s a great way to find out how honest he’s being.”
“Yeah,” I nodded. I was still really nervous, but I had to see her point. If I told him, I would know better what he was really like.
“I can drive you there now, if you like?” she said softly.
I shook my head. “He’s at work now. I should try and arrange a meeting with him. I want to be alone with him.”
“I understand,” she nodded. “Good idea. You call him. Want to do it now?”
I shook my head. “I’ll do it later. I really want to eat something.”
She laughed. “Oh, hell! I forgot. Waiter!” she stuck her hand in the air, an airy gesture that was typical of Becca. A waiter saw her and came over. I looked at the menu, but she’d already decided.
“A toasted cheese sandwich with fries. Same for you?”
“Yes, please,” I nodded in agreement, too amused to think. She added mineral water to the order, and then turned to look at me, smiling happily.
“You need proper food,” she said.
I took her hand and without words expressed my thanks. Having a friend like her was priceless.
After lunch, Becca hurried back to the office and I drove home to the apartment. I sat on my bed and took out my phone. I still had Mark’s number. I pressed the call button, holding my breath.
“Mark?”
“Maddy! Hi!” He sounded so happy and concerned at the same time. “What’s up? Are you okay? Are you at the studio still?”
“No, I’m at home,” I said softly. “Mark… I need to tell you something. Would it be possible to get together?”
“Sure, anytime. Anytime.” His reply was instant. That encouraged me.
“What time would suit you best?” I asked. “After work?”
“Yes. I can be at my place at five. Should we meet there? It might be easier.”
“Um, yeah,” I agreed. I didn’t need Adam overhearing us. It was going to be dramatic enough without having to include my brother.
“I will text you my address. We’ll see each other at five, then.”
“See you soon,” I whispered.
We ended the call.
I got ready. It was four pm now. I had half an hour before I needed to leave for Mark’s place. I showered and dried my hair. I put on a new white blouse and jeans. I put on lipstick. I would feel more confident if I looked good. I had no idea what his response would be like. Whatever happened, I said to myself, I wanted to feel good.
I drove to his place, my mind in a bit of a blur.
I stood on the doorstep, looking up at the building. It was a modest house set amidst a leafy garden. It was a shared cottage and he stayed on the lower floor. The neighborhood was quiet and really nice. I wondered how much rent he paid for the place. I rang the bell.
“Hello?”
“It’s Maddy,” I said to the intercom. The door clicked. I went in.
“Hi.” He appeared at the foot of the stairs. His eyes were wide and full of concern. I swallowed hard. “Is something wrong?” he asked.
I looked up at him. “Thanks for seeing me. I need to talk with you. Can we go in?”
He nodded. His blue eyes were troubled. He stood back, letting me pass through the door.
I went in and he shut the door behind us.
I looked around. The house smelled like him—musky and complex, wood and dry leather. He had good taste: the f
loors were wood and the walls were cream, decorated here and there with paintings of nature. Dark tan curtains a shade paler than the leather couch were drawn back from the green cool outer garden.
“Hi,” I said. Suddenly, I felt very shy. I had never been in his house before. It felt oddly intimate, a new level of closeness.
“Hi,” he said.
We were standing in the middle of the living room. He gestured awkwardly to a chair and the couch. “Would you like to sit down?” he asked.
I nodded. “Thanks.” I sat down on the leather couch. I drew a breath.
“Water?” he asked, gesturing vaguely at the kitchen. “I mean, would you like a drink? I have wine.”
“Mark,” I said, fixing him with a stare. He looked nervous and awkward. “Remember that night when we…”
“How could I forget?” he said. His voice was tight with emotion.
I felt my heart soften. Then I cleared my throat. “Mark, we didn’t use protection. And it seems like I am….”
“What?” he stared.
I nodded. “Mark, I’m expecting a child.”
“But… but…” Raw surprise registered on his face, along with amazement and a sort of awe. I felt my heart melt. He wasn’t angry. He wasn’t shocked. “Maddy… are you sure?”
“I did the test today and it was positive,” I said, my voice wobbling a little. “I want to go to the doctor, to confirm…” I cleared my throat.
“Of course,” he said swiftly. “Of course. I can take you now if you want? I should take you.”
I shook my head. “Mark, I didn’t want to make you get involved,” I said firmly. “I didn’t come here because I had expectations of you. I just thought you should know because, well, he’s your child too. But you don’t have to be involved. Only as much as you want to.”
He stared at me. His jaw dropped. “Maddy,” he said, with a forceful voice. “Maddy, this is my child.” His voice was now passionate.
“So…” I asked, raising one eyebrow. I was skeptical. I had no idea if he was just acting, or if he really meant what he was saying. I wanted to challenge him to be sure. I wanted him to feel whatever it was he really felt about the news rather than some obligatory response he thought he had to provide.
