by Portia Moore
But there’s nothing I’m going to do about it tonight so I crawl into bed, exhausted from the day, and wait for much-needed sleep.
When I wake up, the sun is streaming brightly through the windows, and when I glance over at the clock… Shit! I must have forgotten to set an alarm, or slept straight through it.
And then I look at my phone, and see a missed call from Madison—and a reminder on the screen that her doctor’s appointment is in twenty minutes, and then it goes dead.
Fuck! I don’t have time to change or do anything about my appearance, and I’m barely going to make it as it is. The first appointment and I look like I’m doing the walk of shame. Hell, I think as I run a hand through my hair, dragging my jeans back on and grabbing my phone and wallet. Maybe I am.
Fuck. I’ve fucked up.
23
Madison
I’m trying to stay optimistic as I sit in the waiting room of the doctor’s office, but as the minutes tick by, my anxiety builds more and more. I want to be happy and excited. Today is my first ultrasound, and I’ve been so looking forward to this appointment, but being in this clinic full of pregnant women isn’t helping at all. They’re almost all here with their partners, and it makes me feel awful. I have no idea what I’ve done—I haven’t heard from him since the mixup with the apartment, and all I can think is that he might have changed his mind. But if he did, why wouldn’t he have at least told me? Is he just too guilty about it to man up and tell me?
I grit my teeth, determined not to let it ruin the day. I woke up this morning happy and on top of the world because today I get to see my baby for the first time, and I want to keep that feeling. I reach for my Kindle, opening it up to the first chapter of a baby book that I bought the night before, trying to focus on that, anything other than my mounting worry over why he’s not here, why he hasn’t called or texted me. I’ve already tried to call him once, and I’m not doing it again. I don’t want to look desperate. If he wants to be here, he will be.
I’ve just about given up when what feels like hours later, I hear him call my name, and I look up, my heart jumping into my throat with happiness. Relief washes over me…until I see him.
He’s wearing what looks like the fucking clothes from the night before, jeans and wrinkled t-shirt, his hair slightly messy, and stubble on his chin. Where the hell was he? I feel a stab of hurt mixed with a sliver of anger as I watch him cross the room to me, and a cold feeling in my gut as I remember the dream from the night before.
“It’s none of my business,” I mutter to myself firmly. He’s not my fiancé, not my boyfriend. He’s here. He showed up for the baby, and that’s what’s important.
“I’m so sorry, Madison,” he says in a rush as he sits down next to me. “I swear I didn’t forget. My work event last night ran late and I fell asleep at a client’s house. I’m so sorry I’m running late—”
“It’s fine,” I cut him off quickly. I don’t want to hear the explanation. “Don’t worry about it, you’re here now.” I give him a tight smile, and he looks chastened, now sitting here next to me like a sad puppy.
It takes everything in me to look cool and poised, but inside I’m going back and forth between anger at him for making me worry and for possibly being with someone else last night, and grief at the idea that he probably was, that he was probably doing exactly what I dreamed about…and I can’t stop picturing it in my head. I can’t even look at him. I’m determined not to be upset or cry. I won’t let this get to me.
Finally, the tech comes out and calls my name, and I get up gratefully and walk towards the door, glad for the distraction. She smiles at us both and as she walks us back and gets everything set up, she attempts to make small talk, trying to put us both at ease.
“So are you hoping for a girl or a boy?” she asks as I lay back on the table. “I’ve got three girls. They’re a handful, but I wouldn’t ask for anything else. They’re just wonderful.”
I hesitate a second before saying anything, and Alex chimes in almost immediately. “I’d love a little boy,” he says eagerly. “I’ve always thought about having a son. But a little girl would be crazy too. After all, I’m sure she’d be like her mom.”
I’m speechless for a moment, my heart suddenly full as I look at him and fight not to start to cry. We hadn’t had that conversation, talking about if we’d want a girl or boy or names or anything yet, and to realize that he’s thought about it touches me more than I’d realized it would. “I’d be happy either way as long as he or she is healthy,” I tell the tech, who’s looking at me expectantly.
“So how long have you two been together?” the tech asks, and my stomach drops. I hesitate because I’m not sure what to say.
The silence stretches out awkwardly for a few beats, but then Alex fills in, giving the tech his charming smile. “We met over a year and a half ago,” he says. “She was the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen. I think I fell in love immediately.”
I look over at him and our eyes meet. I can see the sincerity in his face. He’s not just saying it to schmooze the tech, he really means it. The sweet ache in my chest intensifies, and it’s harder than ever not to cry. This is the Alex I love, the one I miss, and I want to reach out for him, to hold his hand, to have the connection with him that I’ve lost.
The gap between what we were and what we are now feels wider than ever, impossibly hard to bridge, and all I can think of as I look into his eyes is how desperately I want that back, how much I want what we were meant to be.
How much I want us to be a family.
Alex
“That’s so romantic!” the tech gushes, but I hardly hear her. My eyes are locked on Madison’s, and as I see the surprised expression cross her face at my words, I realize that I’m still in love with her, that I meant every word that I just said, and not just in the past tense. She’s still the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen, she’s still the woman that I love, and I can’t imagine there being a moment where I look into her eyes and don’t feel that for her. If I’m being honest with myself, I always have, even at the worst. I was livid with her the night of the reception because I was so in love with her. She was ripping my heart out, and every time I looked at her, it was like being torn apart all over again. But I still loved her then, and I still do now. The words tumble over and over in my head, and I want to say them, but I don’t. It’s not the right time, not here with the tech and the appointment in progress. I need to think, and I want to be alone with Madison if I say it. I want it to be the right time.
And then I hear the sound of our baby’s heartbeat for the first time, the soft swish of it on the monitor, and the tech turns the screen so I can see. “There’s your little lemon,” she says, a huge smile on her face. I feel as if my heart is stopping, seeing the tiny blob on the white screen.
“The baby is doing great,” she says. I feel relieved. I look at Madison’s face and see that she’s glowing, and I feel another wave of it. Holly never looked like that, even at our first appointment. She never wanted the baby that much. Madison looks as if it’s Christmas morning, as if she’s getting the best gift she’s ever gotten, and all I can feel is love for her in that moment.
Madison is the woman I wanted to be my wife, the one I wanted to commit to forever, and I don’t know if I’m ready to do that again—but now I know I have to try. If I don’t try, if I give up on this chance to have the woman of my dreams and the family I’ve always wanted, I’ll regret it forever.
I reach out for Madison’s hand, hoping that she’ll take mine, and when she does, she looks over at me and smiles. I feel more peace than I have in weeks as she squeezes my hand, and we both look at the tech as she hands Madison a picture of the ultrasound. “You’re about thirteen weeks,” the tech tells her. “So we’ll want you back in a month, and you should be able to find out the gender then. So start thinking about those names!”
As we leave the office I can’t help looking at Madison, and all I can think is that she’s a
s beautiful as I’ve ever seen her. Everything they say about pregnant women glowing is reflected in her. She looks almost radiant, and it’s clear that her happiness about the appointment is only adding to it. She’s wearing jeans and a fitted t-shirt today, and I’m startled to see that she has a small roundness to her belly that I’ve never seen before. She’s been wearing flowy dresses lately, and if anyone looked at her right now they still wouldn’t think anything other than that she’d maybe had a big lunch, but I know what it is. That small shape is my—our—baby, just the size of a lemon according to the tech, and in six months he or she will be a real person. It’s mind-boggling to imagine, and for the first time I feel secure in being able to look forward to it, knowing that Madison and I feel the same way about the baby. That we want this, more than anything.
“Can I take you to lunch?” I ask as we stop on the sidewalk, and I see that she’s not really looking at me.
“I’m not hungry,” Madison says quietly. I realize with a rush of guilt that she’s upset with me and trying to hide it. Based on how I look, she’s already drawn conclusions.
“I probably shouldn’t go looking the way I do anyway,” I say jokingly, trying to lighten the mood, but her cheeks just flush red as she stays quiet, still not looking at me.
“Madison, I swear it was just me falling asleep at a client’s house after a long night. The client got too drunk and we had to get her home, and we all agreed to stay and keep an eye on her—”
“I’m just tired.” She cuts me off for the second time today. “I’m fine, Alex. I just need a nap.” And then she takes a deep breath, pausing, and I see some decision cross her face as she turns and looks at me for the first time since we left the doctor’s office. “What about dinner instead?” she offers, a beautiful smile crossing her face.
I know her. I know she’s just doing this for my benefit, to make me happy and keep the peace on account of the situation. But I’m not about to turn her down. I want to spend time with her more than anything right now. So I jump on it, regardless of her reasons for offering.
“Yes,” I tell her, happiness flooding me. “I can’t think of anywhere else I’d rather be.”
24
Madison
I’m on top of the world when I head downstairs to meet Alex for dinner. He’d said that he would pick me up, and I make sure to call my mom while I wait since I hadn’t had time earlier between the appointment and getting a nap. I know she’ll want to hear about the ultrasound, and telling it all over again just makes me feel all the more elated as I play it over and over again in my head. Hearing the heartbeat confirms that this is real. I’m really having a baby—Alex’s baby—and seeing the baby for the first time was better than anything I ever imagined.
Except, of course, that we’re not “us.” We’re separated, and facing this separately…but at least we’re separate together. It’s more than a lot of women have, I know, and it could be so much worse. Alex is happy about the baby. He wants it as much as I do, and that alone makes this a million times better than it might be otherwise.
“I can’t believe the picture you sent me!” My mom’s voice cuts through my thoughts, high-pitched and excited as she looks at the text I sent her. “I can’t wait to see you again so I can touch your stomach and look at the pictures together. I’m so happy for you, Madison. I can’t believe I’m going to be a grandmother!”
“I can’t wait to see you, too,” I tell her, and then I see Alex’s car coming around the corner. “Sorry Mom, I’ve got to go. Meeting a friend for dinner. But I’ll call you tomorrow!”
“I’m going to hold you to that.”
“I promise,” I assure her. “I love you!”
“Love you too, honey,” she says, and then I shove my phone into my purse as Alex pulls up to the curb.
Alex is the complete opposite of how he looked earlier—he’s showered and shaved, and looks handsome and put-together in nice jeans and a button-down with a blazer thrown over it. I’m suddenly glad I changed too, out of the jeans and t-shirt I’d had on earlier into a pretty paisley bohemian dress, and put on a little makeup. He still takes my breath away when I look at him. He’s the most handsome man I’ve ever seen, and I want to reach out and touch him, hold his hand across the console like we used to do, for him to bring it to his lips and kiss it. I miss that the most, I think, even more than sex…almost more than the sex—the little affectionate things that there used to be between us, the casual touches and sweet comments that I’d taken for granted like everyone does in a long-term relationship.
“How are you feeling?” he asks, glancing over at me as he pulls out onto the road. I give him a small smile.
“I’m fine,” I tell him, holding my purse in my lap to give my hands something to do. I feel nervous and awkward, like a first date, but this isn’t a date, and it’s far from the first time we’ve ever been out together. It feels strange to be having dinner with him under these circumstances when just a few weeks ago we were planning to get married. I don’t quite know what to say or do.
“Thanks for having dinner with me,” he says offhandedly.
“You don’t have to thank me,” I tell him quickly. “It’s fine, better than heating up leftovers at home,” I joke, but he doesn’t say anything else. He’s feeling awkward too, I think, and it makes me feel a little better that at least it’s as strange for him as it is for me.
He picked the restaurant, and when we walk inside, it’s another reminder for me that this isn’t a date. The restaurant is a cute little Italian place that I’ve walked by a hundred times when I worked at Jackson’s office, but it’s not old or romantic. There’s no soft music or grand architecture or romantic features. It’s clean and modern, and suddenly I feel more like a client being taken to a meeting than anything else. It reminds me to stay focused, to think of the important points I need to touch on with Alex if we’re going to move forward with this, especially him potentially moving in. I have to put my feelings aside, I remind myself, otherwise I’m only going to get hurt.
A waitress comes over almost immediately after we sit down, asking if we want to order drinks. “Just water for me,” Alex says. “And bruschetta for the table.”
It feels cold and businesslike, almost like an awkward job interview, with me sitting fidgeting with my hands under the table and Alex sitting stiffly across from me, neither of us sure quite how to behave.
“Water,” I tell her quickly, and then look at Alex as she walks away. “You don’t have to not order a drink on my account,” I tell him. “I don’t mind if you want one.”
He laughs. “It’s alright,” he says. “We’ll be sober together.”
I feel touched. I know how much Alex likes to drink—his whole job is built around it. He’s never drank a lot as long as I’ve known him, but he enjoys quality wine and liquor, and I can’t remember us ever going out to a nice restaurant and him not splurging on something good. “That’s sweet of you,” I tell him. “I really appreciate it.”
He smiles at me, and I feel the awkwardness between us relax a little, that charming smile that I know so well making me feel a little more at ease. He toys with his fork for a moment as he shakes out the napkin. “It was really amazing to get to hear and see the baby today. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it. I wanted to be a part of that since the moment that you told me, and it means the world to me that you want me to be a part of it, too.” He takes a deep breath. “If the offer is still open, I’d like to share the apartment with you.” Before I can say anything, he continues on quickly, keeping his eyes fixed on mine. “I’d never disrespect you by bringing someone else over. And I’m not in a hurry to date. Besides, my main focus right now is on work. And I want to make sure our friendship is on solid ground, because…” He pauses, and I see him trying to think of how to say whatever it is he’s going to say next.
“I still love you, Madison,” he finishes. “Whatever that means for us now…I do. And I want to make sure we have a good founda
tion for being parents together.”
Do not cry, I tell myself firmly. “I never stopped loving you,” I tell him in a rush, my heart rising in my throat as I look across the table at him. He looks so sincere, his face serious and his eyes never moving away from mine, and I know he’s telling the truth. He’s being honest and open with me, and I swear to myself that I’ll never be less than that with him again. Starting now.
“I know you might be questioning our love,” I whisper, with these damned tears coming to my eyes despite my efforts to stop them. “But I don’t want you to question it.” I lift my chin, looking at him bravely. “If you need to date and explore what else is out there, I get it. I made a mistake, and maybe you feel the need to be really sure before you make any decisions about…about us. I want you back more than anything in the world…” I swallow hard, fighting back the urge to cry. “But I want you because you want me,” I tell him firmly. “Because you want to be with me and no one else and because you’re sure of that, not because you just want to do the right thing. I don’t want to be with you because you feel guilty or obligated, I want it to be because you love me and know I’m the one for you no matter what—that you’d be with me with or without my being pregnant with our child.”
He looks completely stunned, and for a second I think he’s about to argue that he doesn’t feel that way, but I know that right now isn’t the time for him to give me an answer. I stay strong, absolutely still in my seat as I look at him without flinching. “This is what I want,” I add quietly. “And we don’t need to talk about it anymore until you’ve made up your mind whether you want to be with me, or whether you can’t ever do that again.”
