That Night

by Lynn, K. I.

  I’d totally lost my focus due to his absence.

  “This is serious, Natasha,” Dr. Danvers said. “Every time you’ve come in, your blood pressure has been elevated, and I’m concerned about hypertension. I’d like to run some blood work, to check your kidney and liver processing. While I don’t want to put the Gestational Hypertension—also known as Preeclampsia—label on you, I may be forced to. It’s become critical for you to watch your stress levels.”

  And there it was. Richard was so one foot out the door I couldn’t even tell him about my health issues. He didn’t seem to care about anything but work lately.

  “I don’t know what to do.”

  Her lips formed a thin line. “I think you know what your biggest stressor is, because it’s the one thing that is missing from this room right now. The one thing that is missing every time I see you.”

  I swiped at the tears filling my eyes and nodded, my doctor confirming every negative thought I’d had for weeks.

  Richard’s distance was the problem. Not the physical separation of our long-distance relationship, but the void that had been deepening between us for over a month.

  For my health, I needed to make a choice.

  In my mind I begged and pleaded for Richard to walk through that door, to be there for me and the baby, but the moment had come, and he wasn’t there.

  I stared at the screen, watching the ultrasound tech manipulate around, trying to get a good shot, but our baby was being shy. That or it sensed my distress, hoping that Daddy might arrive just in time to find out if we were having the girl that Richard kept saying he was certain of, or if we were having a boy, which I always said just to be obstinate and tease him.

  The culmination of over twenty-three weeks of waiting and wondering, of teasing each other incessantly, and I was alone.

  The happiness of the moment was tarnished and grey due to his absence. The baby was fine. I had a printout showing the gender and when I left to check out at the reception desk, there was still no Richard.

  And I knew at that moment it was time to make a decision I was not prepared to make. One that broke my heart into a million pieces.

  I pulled out my phone and sighed as I unlocked it.

  I am so sorry. I just got out of a meeting—Richard

  I called Jenna the moment I got in the car, needing to try anything to keep the sobs at bay.

  “Hey, babe!” she said excitedly. “So, is it a girl or is it a boy?”

  “He wasn’t there,” I said.

  The silence stretched on longer than normal for Jenna, then there was a hissed, “Son of a bitch.”

  “I can’t count on him. I can’t count on him to come here.” The sobs let loose. All the weeks of holding my feelings at bay, of believing whatever it was that drew Richard and I together initially would be strong enough to see us through the widening chasm, finally overpowered me and I broke. I had trouble getting the words out, my sobs so fierce I could barely understand myself, so it was anyone’s guess if Jenna could understand my blubbering speech.

  “I can’t do this. He doesn’t love me. It doesn’t matter what I feel for him, because this, us…just isn’t gonna work. I’m not important enough to him, and I will always be hurt by his lack of attention. We will both pay if I stay, because I will always be the mistress to his marriage.”

  There was no holding back the feelings of inadequacy or my tears any longer. They came gushing out, flooding my eyes and streaming down my face.

  “I love him, Jenna, but he doesn’t love me.”

  I took a deep breath. “Fuck, what a week.” Every day I’d been in endless meetings.

  Despite being the VP, I had been burning the midnight oil with Michael every night. It was easier to sleep on my couch than to go home. Thankfully I kept a change of clothes and a bag of toiletries in my office.

  The week had been hell, somehow worse than the prior fiscal year ends. I rubbed at my forehead as I finished up an email, my mind focused on the task.

  The phone rang four times, almost switching to voicemail when I got to it. Seeing Natasha’s name reminded me what day it was.

  Shit!

  I’d texted her nearly an hour ago and I still wasn’t out.

  “I’m on my way,” I said as I began logging off my computer.

  “Don’t bother.”

  I paused, trying to figure out if I’d heard her correctly. “What?”

  “Do you remember what today was?”

  “A doctor’s appointment. And I’m so sorry. I promise I won’t miss the next one,” I said, cursing myself out.

  “You promised you wouldn’t miss this one. This was the one you needed to be at. I needed you beside me today, and you weren’t there.”

  The hurt in her voice was palpable, and my stomach dropped. “You think I didn’t want to be?”

  “If you did, wouldn’t you have made every effort?” she hissed.

  “Fuck, Nat, we live almost two hundred miles apart. I’m the fucking VP of Finance and, as you are well aware, we are at the fiscal year end.”

  She knew that June was always a shit month.

  “It’s been weeks since I’ve seen you and days since I got a call.”

  “I’m busy!” I blew out a breath to calm down. “Come July first things will calm down, but until then, it’s seventy-plus-hour work weeks.”

  There was a knock on my door and my assistant popped his head in, but I waved him away.

  “I’m working almost as much, but I guess I’m the only one invested enough to miss you and want to talk to you.”

  “Don’t pull that shit. If you’re pissed off, just say it.”

  “I’m fucking pissed off!” she screamed.

  “So am I!” I yelled back. “Did it ever occur to you that my world doesn’t revolve around you?”

  She drew in a sharp breath, and I internally cursed at myself. “I’m sorr—”

  “I don’t have to be your world, just your heart, but I’m beginning to think that’s never going to happen.”

  Fuck. I ran my hand down my face, my jaw ticking in aggravation. I hated the way her voice wavered. Hated that I was the reason.

  Feelings were hard for me. Difficult to crippling levels, and even harder to express in words.

  Being two hundred miles away, words were all I had at that moment, and there were none.

  “Nothing?”

  “It’s not that simple, Natasha.”

  “Why not?”

  “Give me three weeks to get past this shit, and we’ll go away for the weekend.”

  Silence. Fuck.

  Silence was not a good sign.

  Then, after a heavy breath, Natasha continued, and the defeat was apparent in her voice. “Don’t bother. You told me that night you were married to your job, and I was just foolish enough to believe that I could be the one to change that.”

  The line went silent before I could respond.

  Shit.

  Fuck!

  It took everything in me not to throw the phone at the wall. She didn’t even say goodbye, she just hung up. What the hell was I supposed to do with that?

  What the hell was I supposed to do with all of it? Didn’t she understand how much I was carrying around on my shoulders?

  It had been two days since I hung up on Richard, and I had yet to leave my bed. I was so upset I blocked his number. Dr. Danvers said to watch my stress, and it was stressing me out more. He was the father of my child, but I needed space.

  I regretted doing it almost immediately, but I needed to be strong. If he wanted to fix things, he would come to me.

  When I heard voices coming down the hall, I started, but relaxed back into my blanket fort when I recognized my mother.

  “You know,” I whined from under the covers. “I didn’t give you that key so you could just walk in whenever.”

  “All right, young lady, get up,” Mom said from the doorway to my bedroom.

  “No,” I whined from under the covers. I didn’t wa
nt to do anything but wallow in my misery…and pizza. And ice cream, pickles, fried rice, and bacon cheeseburgers.

  My stomach rumbled at all the food thoughts, the baby demanding everything.

  Just like when I was a teenager, my mom pulled the covers from me. I cracked an eye and glared at her.

  “Don’t give me that attitude.”

  A figure appeared behind my mom, her baby belly entering first. “I have a milkshake,” Hannah said with a smile as she wiggled the Styrofoam cup in front of her. “It’s chocolate.” Her voice was sing-song and way too cheerful right now, but she had a milkshake.

  My other eye opened, and I lifted my head from the pillow. Damn her.

  With each step, her brunette waves gave a slight bounce, her blue eyes sparkling. She was trying to cheer me up, and she had me at “milkshake.”

  I took a long pull, which was how long it took to get the ultra-thick shake up the straw. When the cold hit my tongue, it burst into multiple layers of chocolate heaven and I let out a moan, my body sagging.

  “Told you.” Hannah looked back to my mom.

  “What are you two doing here?” I asked before attempting to pull more up the straw.

  “Jenna called,” Mom said. There was a sad smile on her face, and I swallowed hard before looking away.

  “He’ll come around,” Hannah assured.

  “If he hasn’t by now, he’s not going to.” My heart gave way to another crack. “I thought he was everything, that I meant something, and maybe I do, but not more than work.” I took another long pull. “I want Portillo’s.”

  “Get yourself dressed and we will go,” Mom said. The cheerful edge to her voice did not inspire me like it did her dog.

  I shook my head. “I’ll have it delivered.”

  “No, you’re coming with us,” Hannah said. “We’re going to go shopping. You don’t have anything for the baby yet.”

  It wasn’t entirely true. In the corner of my room sat a basket, one that held a few items Richard and I had bought together, including the onesie and the teddy bear.

  A tear fell from my eye and slid down my cheek. Hannah’s thumb swiped it away, and she tapped my chin to make me turn toward her.

  “It’s a shit situation.”

  “How would you know?” I asked her.

  Hannah and I had been talking a lot more than we had before due to the babies, but she had my brother, who was devoted to her and had been for years.

  It was a bitch thing to say, but I wasn’t in the mood to be reasoned with. I just wanted to stay bundled up in my comforter.

  “It hasn’t always been wine and roses with your brother, you know. This isn’t the end. It’s not really over. This is a hiccup.”

  “It’s one hell of a hiccup.”

  She pushed a lock of hair behind my ear. “Some are worse than others, no lie, but have faith that Richard will be back.”

  “Do I even want him back?” It was a solid question, one I wasn’t even sure I knew the answer to.

  “I can’t answer that, but from the state of you right now, I’d say yes. Look, I don’t know what happened between you two, but it’s obvious you have deep feelings for him. So, get up, brush your hair, and get your ass dressed, and let’s go get something to eat, then waddle around the baby store and pick out cribs.”

  I took another long pull of shake. “I don’t waddle.”

  “Maybe not yet, but you will. We both will.”

  They gave me twenty minutes to make myself presentable, and what I managed was base-line. I couldn’t remember the last time I gave so few fucks about how I looked. Yoga pants, tennis shoes, a T-shirt that stretched around my stomach, and a duster sweater that hit my knees.

  I ordered the works at Portillo’s—Italian beef sandwich (wet with peppers), cheese fries, and a chocolate cake shake.

  And I cried when I ate every last bite.

  They dragged me to the baby store, and I stared dispassionately at the furniture displays. Twenty-four weeks along, and I had nothing for my baby. No room, no basic necessities, and no father. Time was running out, and I was so ill prepared. I’d been too busy playing house and not seeing that I would always be second best.

  Work was important, but there needed to be balance, and Richard dug his heels in, refusing to even entertain balance. If work contacted him, it took priority over everything.

  “What do you think of this crib, Nat?” Hannah asked, drawing me over.

  “It’s nice,” I said, taking in the white color and the rest of the collection. It really was a nice set with a matching dresser and rocking chair. I sat down in the chair, loving the way it swiveled as well as rocked, and smoothed my hands over my stomach.

  For forty-eight nerve-wracking hours, I had pondered what I was going to do with a baby by myself when I first found out. Then Richard appeared and it was no longer just me, it was “we.” In the months that followed it was the two of us, envisioning life with our child.

  But sometimes fantasies are just that, and sometimes reality is not as reliable or steady as you thought.

  “I need a bigger place,” I said, gaining Hannah’s attention. “Can Carson help me move?”

  She gave me a sad smile. “Of course. Are you looking at places?”

  I nodded. “I’ve had my eye on this condo community by the river. Want to go see it?”

  “Sure.”

  I wasn’t going to count on Richard to be there, not anymore. I had to move forward, to plan for life with a baby and joint custody.

  To plan for a life without Richard beside me.

  Part of that meant keeping my job and staying off bed rest.

  Work kept me busy over the weekend and all of Monday, but even having all my focus on work could not stop the weight from settling on my chest or the pit that grew in my stomach every day. They weren’t feelings I was familiar with, but I knew they had to do with Natasha.

  Calling and texting had been futile exercises—she wasn’t answering.

  We were both angry, and the distance didn’t help.

  Though I wasn’t sure if it was her I was angry with. It was me. After she hung up on me, I realized why she was so upset. I’d missed a pivotal moment I could never get back in the life of my child. A moment when I should have been holding her hand and kissing her in excitement, and instead I was sitting at a conference table, firmly planting another wall between us.

  Why I kept doing it, I had no idea. My self-destructive moves were hurting more than just me. The walls were meant to protect me, but they were doing the opposite.

  I wanted to let her in. I wanted to drown in the feelings that washed over me when we were together. To forever be the man I had been the night I met her. A man whose entire being was focused solely on her.

  But in Chicago was every reminder of Desiree and her betrayal. It wasn’t the home we shared, but the city that was infected with years of memories.

  The only time I’d ever opened my heart, I fell head over heels in love. I was devoted to Desiree to a fault, and I failed to see the signs until I caught them together.

  It destroyed me, destroyed my ability to trust anyone. And until Natasha hung up on me, I hadn’t realized how that included her.

  I hadn’t meant to distrust her. She gave me no reason to, but it was ingrained in those walls. It wasn’t love I was keeping out, it was trust.

  But Natasha wasn’t Desiree, and the emotions that bound me were deeper than I’d ever experienced. So much deeper than the love I once had for Desiree.

  The terror that had paralyzed me for days was…

  My phone went off with Natasha’s ringtone, and I scrambled to reach it across the expanse of my cluttered desk.

  Her name flashed across my screen, and I blew out a breath in a sort of relief. She hadn’t replied to my texts or called back since our fight.

  “Hi,” I said, frozen in anticipation.

  “Richard, it’s Jenna.”

  My brow scrunched in confusion before a spike of fear struck my
chest. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nat fainted about an hour ago. She hit her head pretty hard. They just left to take her to the hospital.”

  Time stopped.

  “What hospital?” I managed to choke out.

  “What are you going to do?” she asked.

  “I’m fucking coming. What hospital?”

  I was out of my chair and running toward the elevator in seconds, ignoring Michael as he called my name.

  Nothing was going to stop me from getting to her.

  The hours it took me to get there felt like an eternity.

  I swallowed hard. My stomach rolled, and an enormous pressure settled in my chest. The closer I got to her, the more utter despair crashed down on me.

  When I entered her room, I almost couldn’t breathe. It may have only been a fall, but what if it had been worse? What if something bad had happened and I wasn’t with her?

  Monitors pinged, and there was some kind of strap around her stomach. Gauze circled her head, her right eye swollen.

  “Natasha?” I whispered, reaching out to stroke her cheek, but there was no response.

  “Oh, you’re here,” Jenna said from the door, a bottle and some snack bags in her hand.

  “Is she okay?” I asked as I sat in the chair next to the bed.

  “She hit her head, but it’s just some bruising and swelling. She woke up for a minute, but fell right back asleep.”

  “How? Why?”

  “They told her mom it was a combination of things. Stress with your breakup—”

  “We didn’t break up,” I interrupted. We had a fight, that was all. Right?

  “That’s not what she thinks. I had to unblock your number from her phone.”

  It felt like I’d been doused in ice. That was why she hadn’t responded. Had I hurt her that badly? Had my actions forced her to cut me from her life?

  “Anyway, added in the stress from work, the pregnancy, and her high blood pressure. She’s been miserable, and it all came to a head.”

  “Miserable?” The word caught in my throat.