“When are you going to tell him, Annie? He has a right to know. He needs to have the option to be involved in your decisions.”
That is the straw that broke my camel’s back. Sobbing, I cry into the phone, “He DOES know Lynn. He came over after I took the test with you and found it in the trashcan. I showed him the stick.” I’m not sure she understands anything I’m saying through my breakdown, but I keep going. “He sat there and stared at it before getting up, setting the test down, and walking out my door. All he said was he needed time to think and he’d call me later. I haven’t heard from him since.” My sobs are just becoming hiccupping whimpers. I know how wretched I sound, but I needed to get it out.
“Oh, Annie, why didn’t you tell me? He didn’t mention it at all when I talked to him.”
“He knows you know, Lynn. I told him you brought the test over. I guess he was trying to get a read from you on how I’m handling it or what I’ve decided to do.”
“Well, have you decided what you’re going to do?”
“No, I thought I would have help making this decision. It’s not like Gray was a damn one-night stand. We’ve been together for two years. We had sex right before he found the test. Geezus, why isn’t he helping me through this, Lynn?”
“Anns, I don’t know.” I hear the sympathy in her voice replacing the irritation the conversation started out with. “Are you going to ask him what he wants you to do?”
“I have an appointment with my OB/GYN this afternoon. After I meet with him, I’m going to call Gray, tell him what I know, and ask him if he wants to be involved or not. I’ll figure it out from there. Either with him or without him.” I’m resigned to my situation. It is what it is. If Gray wants to be involved, I’d welcome it, if not, then I will walk away.
“Call me after your appointment. I want to know what the doctor says.”
“I will. Talk to you later, Lynn.”
~~
There’s nothing like a paper gown to make you feel really feminine. (Insert sarcastic bitch here.) It’s bad enough to have to sit naked in a sheet of paper on a table, but why do OB/GYNs make a person wait for an eternity in this getup before coming in to examine the patient? It’s like they get off on humiliation…mine. I had to pee in a cup, because apparently, my peeing on a stick wasn’t good enough to confirm my pregnancy. They are going to repeat the same stick test themselves. They also took blood, for what I don’t know, and let me listen to the heartbeat. Now I’m sitting here, naked, except for my paper comforter, waiting. I hate being idle. As far as I’m concerned, if you leave me in a room for an extended amount of time with nothing to do, you should expect me to rifle through your drawers – all of them. That’s exactly what I’m doing when the nurse walks in. She laughs at me. I return her smile as I hop back up on the table.
“Congratulations. You are pregnant.” Ummmm, yes, I know. That’s why I’m here. I stare at her blankly, waiting for her to continue. “Based on your last period, we are estimating your due date to be September seventeenth.” She’s awfully smiley for someone who looks at vajayjays all day behind the screen of a doctor. I think she’s expecting a reaction other than the one she gets from me, but hey, I aim to please.
“Can I go now?”
“Uhh, well do you have any questions?”
“Yes. I do. Why did I have to put on this paper gown, and sit here naked for nearly an hour, for you to tell me what I already knew?” Wow, super bitch rears her head.
“Well, if we hadn’t gotten the hormone levels we were looking for in the blood work, the doctor would have done a pelvic exam. But everything is in tip-top shape so there is no need for that today.” She looks like the Cheshire cat. I want to smack the smile off her face. I wonder if these people ever consider that not every pregnancy brings great tidings to the prospective mother.
“So, I can get dressed and go?”
“Yes, you can. The assistant will make your next appointment for you on your way out.”
Jumping off the table, I grab my clothes to get dressed as she’s leaving the room. After I check out, I debate who to contact first, Lynn or Gray. I opt for Lynn since she knew I was coming today. Not in the mood to talk, I send her a text just telling her that I’m out of the doctor’s office promising to call her tonight.
Second contact Gray. I’m a chicken shit, I know it, but I just can’t bring myself to pick up the phone and hear his voice, knowing there will be disappointment or even anger on the other end. Text it is.
Me: Hey, Gray. Just left the OBGYN. Baby’s due 9/17.
There’s a long wait for a response, or maybe it just seems long because I’m stressing out, unsure of how he will take the news.
Gray: Is everything ok?
Me: U mean w/the baby?
Gray: U & the baby
Me: Baby is fine. I got 2 hear his heartbeat. I’m a mess, but didn’t expect n e thing different.
Gray: U got 2 hear the heartbeat?
Me: Yep. His heart sounded like a little drum.
Gray: His?? You already know it’s a boy? Geezus, Annie, y didn’t u tell me u were getting all this info? I wuldve gone w/u
Me: Oh, no. They didn’t tell me it’s a boy; it’s just my gut feeling. I just heard the heartbeat & got the due date.
Gray: Y didn’t u tell me u had an appt today?
Me: U said u needed time 2 think. U said u wud call. U didn’t so I left u alone.
Gray: Bird Dog…
Me: Yeah?
Gray: I don’t know what 2 say.
Me: Well let me know when u figure it out.
Gray: Don’t b like that, baby.
Me: How wud u prefer me 2 b?
Gray: R u busy 2nite?
Me: Just homework… I’ll b home if that’s what u r asking
Gray: Can I come by?
Me: Sure.
Gray: I’ll c u around 7.30pm.
I don’t bother responding. I can’t wait to see him. I miss him like someone might miss an arm or a leg. He’s like an extension of me. I’m utterly lost without him, but damn, I’m pissed as hell, too. This man has told me he loves me more times than I can count, but when I need him the most, he’s been completely absent. My heartaches for him. Nothing makes any sense without him with me.
Knowing that he isn’t coming home to me anymore steals my breath, sucking life from me. I feel like I’m suffocating, like he’s my lifeline and without him every breath is harder to take. I miss seeing him in the mornings, curling up in his arms at night, eating dinner with him, and the physical touch. I have adored him since the first time I sat across from him at Applebee’s. I believe with everything in me that our souls are connected. We are bound by a love I’ve never known before, and doubt will ever exist for me again. Somehow, we will always be connected; some unseen force ties our hearts. It might be through this baby or we might find a way to get back together, but somehow, we will forever be bound. I just hope my heart survives it.
Gray shows up right on time, as usual. He knocks on the door, which still pains me. To think that a couple of weeks ago, he had his own key and walked in to his home, but now, he’s knocking. It’s a bitter reminder that he’s not mine anymore. When he left, he said that we were still together, but facing the truth, I have to admit that a man doesn’t go for a week without talking to his girlfriend or acknowledging that she’s pregnant. If I’m being honest, I know that we aren’t together, but I keep trying to deny it. I won’t let my heart acknowledge that yet. I answer the door to a hesitant smile, returning it with one of my own. He leans down and kisses my forehead.
“Hey, baby, how are you feeling?”
I’m a little stunned at his welcome; this is the Gray that I’m used to. I respond with a simple hello motioning him in. He sits in his usual spot on the couch and I take my seat next to him curling my legs underneath me to face him.
Once he’s settled, he looks my direction, grabs my arm, pulls me into his lap, and curls his arms around me. That oriental tattoo peaks out from h
is shirt and I ask him for the hundredth time, “What does this mean?” He laughs, “Superman.” I’m starting to wonder if he knows what it means since every time I ask he gives me a different answer, but this has been our game since we met. I’ll keep asking until he finally gives me the truth, not that I will recognize it. I want to keep playing with him, but we both know we have serious things to discuss. I get quiet waiting for him to lead the conversation since he asked to come over.
Gray’s eyes are swimming with emotion, but nothing is coming out. Laying my head back on the couch, I just watch his face, hoping he sees in me how much I love him, how much I need him, how much I miss him. I can’t express the words or maybe I won’t express them. Him being with me has to be his decision, baby or no baby. I want him with me because he needs me the way I need him. He interrupts my thoughts when he starts to stutter whatever it is he came here to say, but before he gets anything out the tears start.
“Sweetheart, why are you crying?” He has no clue how to handle this side of me, or really any side of me that isn’t just happy Annie.
“Hormones, I guess.” No way in hell I’m confessing to him how lost I am. Using the back of my hand, I wipe away the signs of my internal struggle, trying to keep them at bay.
“Look, I know I should have called by now. I just kept thinking that something would come to me to fix our situation, but I can’t think of anything. I don’t know what to do, Annie. I’m struggling with even being in a relationship, what the hell am I going to do with a baby?” He’s being honest. I can’t blame him for how he feels, even if it rips me open, slicing straight to my core.
I keep waiting for him to say something. Sitting silently, my mind is racing through my options again, trying to figure out if he wants me to make a suggestion or tell him what I want, but the truth is that I don’t know any better than he does.
He finally continues, “I’m not going to tell you what to do with your body. It’s not my place. I keep going back and forth about what a child would mean for us. I mean, we aren’t really together anymore.” And there it is – his admission that him leaving was bigger than him needing space. He needed space. “So what does that mean for a kid? That he’d be back and forth between us on the weekends? Or that he’s with you all the time and I don’t exist? I lived that life, Annie. My dad wasn’t around. I don’t want to be that for my son. Then there’s the part of me that thinks this is my chance to be better than my dad, to be a father to my little boy. You know I love you, that’s not a question. I can love his Mama and be his Daddy. I can see you dressing him up in preppy clothes, putting a baseball hat on his little head, before I carry him to a Clemson game with me – ”
Interrupting him, I ask, “You think about him as a little person? About taking him with you to games and what it would actually be like to love him?”
“Of course I have. What makes you think I wouldn’t picture those things? Annie, that’s MY baby growing in you. Mine. You and I created him. We didn’t plan him, but he’s very much a part of both of us, sweetheart.” I think he’s struggling to fully express what he’s feeling, the uncertainty of the commitment we are making to this baby and each other, for life, if we keep him.
“When you think about him, does he have a name?” However he answers this question will define my decision. I know that as soon as the words come out of my mouth.
“Yeah, baby. His name’s Cole.” He’s matter of fact. In that instant, my decision is made. Gray has met this little boy, his son, in his mind. We don’t even really know if it’s a boy, but Gray and I both believe it is, and his name is Cole.
His eyes are searching mine for any kind of answer, response, or suggestion that I might add to this conversation. “Gray, I don’t know if you even thought about me having an abortion as an option, or considered adoption, or if you think that our only option is to have this baby.”
“I told you I’m not going to tell you what to do with your body.” He seems incensed that I suggested any options.
“Honestly, before you came tonight, I had no idea what to do. I had no clue what I wanted to do or should do. I have been a total mess, plowing through emotion after emotion, with no definitive answer. But, Gray, I can’t do anything else, but love him now.” My words are raw, they’re real, and they are exactly me. Gray left me no option the moment he named our child.
“What do you mean?”
“You gave our son a name. You’ve met this little boy in your thoughts. You’re right, he’s ours. You and me. Somehow the pieces will fall in place…even if we aren’t together.” That last part stings, but I need him to know that I don’t expect commitment from him just because of Cole. My heart dances a little at the thought of my son, of his father playing with him, us adoring him, a little boy that’s half me, half Gray, in the flesh.
“So are we doing this then?” he asks tentatively.
“Yeah, I guess we are.” I’m hesitant. It seems like we just made a huge decision in a really fast way. I want to believe that he is content, but if he’s feeling anything like I am, he’s terrified.
He leans over, lifting my shirt up, and kisses my belly, whispering, “I love you, little boy.” Then he leans over, putting his forehead against mine. Slowly, I close my eyes before feeling our lips meet. “I love you too, Bird Dog.” My heart melts at his tenderness.
Something in Gray’s touch always ignites our connection. It’s just who we are together. Without words our bodies speak to each other, our souls merge, it’s effortless. His hand grazes my cheek, embracing my jaw, slowly. He begins our silent conversation, the exchange of emotions. Lips lightly touching, our eyes are closed, but I can see him more clearly this way. He lays me back on the couch taking my shirt off as he goes. His hands explore the territory he has long since chartered. I feel his unshaven face bristle the nape of my neck, trailing kisses down toward my collarbone. My hands find the hem of his shirt, blindly tugging it over his head, before they land on his biceps. He’s so hot to my touch it’s as if my fingers are melting into his skin. Keeping his weight off me, he’s propped up with his elbows on both sides of my rib cage.
Our lips find each other. His tongue slides into my mouth, encouraging my tongue to play with his; instantly shooting warmth between my legs. No one has ever been able to turn me on with just a kiss, but Gray sends me to the edge of orgasm with his. Breaking the kiss, I open my eyes to find his searching mine for something, an answer, a question, maybe just understanding. I see fear in his, but I also see the same love that I see every time we make eye contact. It’s undeniable. Shifting his weight to my side, he lies down beside me with his head on my shoulder, tracing my ribs with two fingers.
He’s staring down at my belly like he wants to touch it, so I take his hand in mine moving it just below my belly button, and then cover it with my own. He doesn’t look up, but leaves his hand there for a few minutes before he moves it to the top of my jeans. Turning his head up toward my ear, he whispers, “I want these off, baby.”
I grant his wish, removing my jeans as he removes the rest of his clothes. Lying back down, his hand meets my hip and rolls me on to my side facing him. I love the way he moves my body to satisfy himself, taking control, even if it’s subtle. Squeezing my ass, he draws me impossibly close to him without connecting us. The kisses are intimate, endless. I have no trouble losing myself in Gray or his affection.
As if he has all the time in the world, he slowly draws an intricate design on my back with his fingertips while continuing to make love to my mouth. It’s erotic, sensual. Feeling him shift his body, I realize he has lifted his knee to a bent position, taking my leg with him so that it is draped across his hip, preparing me for himself. Sliding his hands down my back to hold my ass, he moves me slightly up as his dick closes what little distance still separates us. I grab his ass with my left hand for stability, feeling it clinch as he pushes forward, easing himself inside me.
There’s something different about the way we are tonight. There’s a bond
that I’ve never shared with anyone. His movement is methodical, not in a mundane way, but in a way that says I belong to him, and I always will. But he’s not trying to capture my body; he’s taking control of my spirit.
I feel each inch of him pressing into me, pulling out, back in, out. I want more. I need it harder, faster, yet I want this to go on forever, to be lost inside of each other. Tossing my head back, I arch my body forward to get the pressure on the front of my sex, to feel him inside at exactly the spot that drives me to heights I can’t reach without him. He knows that’s what I want and angles his body to give me more. Pumping into me, with more force, I know he’s close. Grabbing a handful of my hair to wrap it around his wrist before pulling it back, leaving my neck exposed. He buries his face under my ear, growling as he comes. Hearing his release, I can’t hold back my own. Moaning loudly, I join him at that peak before sliding back down the mountain with him.
We lie there for a while, still silent, his arms wrapped around me, me cuddled into his side. Then Gray does something he has never done before. He un-tucks me from his body, gets dressed, and says he’s going home. I’m sitting there watching him as he puts his clothes on, but I feel like it’s a dream. Gray has never left me after sex, never. This is the distance he says he needs, but I just feel used. He doesn’t kiss me or tell me he loves me again. He just makes his way toward the door before turning to me.
“Bird Dog, are you going to get up and lock the door behind me?”
Like a zombie, I roll off the couch, completely naked and watch him leave before locking the door once he’s through it. The tears start again, but this time, I can’t stop them. They are like a flood after a dam breaks, and there is nothing I can do to hold them back. This is not the man I love. This is not the man I have spent two years of my life with. I don’t know who this person is.
Chapter Twenty-Five – Gray
Leaving Annie was odd. We’ve never had casual sex. I’ve never gotten up and left her, but I just couldn’t stay tonight. I wanted to want to, but my mind was screaming at me to get out. What the fuck is wrong with me? That girl is good as gold, not to mention she’s carrying my child, but I can’t stand beside her in a committed relationship like I have for the last two years. I go into panic mode thinking about the level of responsibility that a baby requires, but I can’t stand the thought of her doing anything to keep from having him. I had to leave. I had to go home.
Bound by Love Page 17
