She’d told her sister about Craig leaving the morning after it had happened. Angie had been great, holding her while she cried, crying a little with her. Listening to her. She’d never once said “I told you so.”
Instead, Angie had told Amelia that she had done the right thing because she’d listened to herself and followed her own heart.
Amelia told Angie that she didn’t regret her time with Craig. She was so glad she knew him. So thankful that Isabella’s father was such a great, decent and kind man.
“Come here.” Angie took her hand, led her from the drawing board to the couch, sitting down with her and then jumping back up to get her a small container of juice from the minifridge. She grabbed one for herself, too, uncapping one and handing it to Amelia and then taking a sip of the other for herself.
“I think you need to reassess,” Angie said, her tone kind but sure. In black jeans with off-white beige lace around the holes ripped into them, she didn’t look like the boss of anything, but Amelia knew that tone of voice. Their staff knew it, too. It was the one you didn’t argue with.
Unless you were Angie’s big sister, of course. She shook her head. “I had to send him away, Angie. I couldn’t keep being with him, knowing I was hurting him.”
“Again, his choice,” she said, but Amelia shook her head again. “I know, which is what I told him, and he was the one who chose to walk out the door.”
She’d done the right thing.
She’d just never expected the pain to be so debilitating. No matter what she did, she couldn’t make it stop.
“This isn’t good for the baby.”
“You think I don’t know that?” It was a constant worry, and why she was trying so damn hard to recover. To move on. To figure everything out. Find what would cure her.
“Craig and I are too different. We’ve both already learned the hard way that we can’t be happy without being true to ourselves.”
“But what if you’re looking at the wrong truth?”
She shook her head again, trying desperately to stay above water so she didn’t drown in her own shortcomings. Because pushing Craig away didn’t feel like being true to herself, either. “I don’t get it,” she said, needing to understand. “How can truth be wrong?”
“You’re focused on being like Mom, based on what you were like with Mike, and on a house, a kind of home, that isn’t right for you.”
“Yeah. I hurt you, and those I care most about, Angie. The only way I live with myself is to remain focused on that. To learn from the mistakes.”
Angie sipped. Sitting upright, not even touching her hand like she usually did, leaving Amelia feeling cut off. Adrift. Not that she blamed her sister.
“How much time have we spent together the past three months?”
The innocuous question came out of the blue. Confusing her. “A lot.” Which had nothing to do with anything.
“How often have we talked?”
“All the time. Every day. Like always.”
“Exactly.”
“So?”
“So...you managed to have Craig in your life and still be there for me.”
That was different. “We weren’t a couple. I wasn’t putting him first.”
“I think you did. If you weren’t putting him first, you wouldn’t have ended things when you knew he was getting hurt.”
She’d stop anything she could if she knew she was hurting someone else.
“Remember, I’m your sister and attached to your hip,” Angie said. “I’ve been watching and I just wonder if maybe you and Craig have found a healthy relationship.”
By being apart?
“It’s not like either of us grew up with one to judge it by, or learn from,” Angie said laconically, and then continued, “but you seem to know that he won’t ask you to do anything that feels wrong to you. And you do the same for him. You don’t rely on each other so much as you support each other. It’s like you respect each other so much you don’t want to do anything that’s going to dishonor who either of you are, and what you need.”
“There is that,” she said. “But it’s because we’ve always known we weren’t a couple. Our lives aren’t tied together. My choices don’t have a direct effect on his life and vice versa.”
“Really.” More droll. “So your choice to use his sperm didn’t affect him? Or all those weeks of hauling bikes around three times a week, scheduling things around the sacred exercise time, didn’t affect his life? Because I have to tell you, it affected mine. I knew that unless there was an emergency I was not to ask you to do anything, or call you, during bike riding time.”
“I’m sor—”
“Don’t you dare apologize,” Angie said. “This is what I’m getting at. Or kind of slowly coming to as I figure this all out. I don’t think our relationship is the healthiest, either,” she said, and Amelia started to spiral down so far she didn’t recognize herself.
Angie still wasn’t happy with her? With them? Hers and Angie’s was the one relationship she felt she had a grasp on and understood.
“It’s not fair or right that I rely on my big sister for all of my support, that I expect you to always be the key relationship in my life.”
Her face got cold. She stared, sure she was going to wake up from a nightmare. Angie took her hand, tears in her eyes. “I love our closeness. I love you. So much,” she said. “I know you’re always going to be a person I need to call when anything major happens in my life. I just need more. I need a life of my own. And I think you do, too.”
Amelia saw the tears on her little sister’s face and then she started really listening. Hearing Angie’s words and digesting their meaning.
“I think that the way we grew up, in that house with a mean drunk and a mother who wouldn’t or couldn’t protect us, made us closer than a lot of siblings and I’m thankful for that,” Angie continued. “I love it. I just think, as with anything, there are shadows to the bright sides. Maybe it made me, in particular, too reliant on you. I acted like I was your child, instead of Mom’s, looking to you to be for me what she was not. I expected you to put me first...”
“You were a kid, Angie. We both were. I just happened to be older. Please don’t think there’s anything wrong with us. I love us. And you. I can’t imagine a life without you.”
Angie nodded, and cried a little more, too. “I know. Me, too. I’m not going anywhere, believe me. I just... Think about what I said. Maybe a bit of adjustment is in order. And maybe, if you see things a little differently, you’ll be free to explore possibilities with Craig. Something that doesn’t involve that house he’s living in.”
“He loves that house.”
“A house is just a building. I have a feeling he might love you more.”
He couldn’t. His pain would be unbearable if he did. He’d already lost both Tricia and Gavin. And now her, and Isabella.
She couldn’t breathe for a second as the weight of it all crashed in on her.
“He doesn’t love me,” she said. “You’ve never even met him, so how could you say that?”
“Because I see what he’s done for you. And I don’t just mean the bike riding. Or great sex.” Angie grinned at that last part.
Amelia did, too, for a brief second.
“You’ve softened, sweetie. You’ve been happier in the past few months than I’ve ever seen you. Ever.”
“Because of Isabella.”
“I’m sure that’s part of it, but look at you.”
She glanced down. And though she knew Angie wasn’t talking about her clothes, she couldn’t look her sister in the eye. Wasn’t ready to see what Angie had already seen. So she focused on the clothes, as though the answer would come in a softer way from the things that she’d lovingly created. She was wearing a pair of their high-end blue jeans from the new spring catalog, modified with a maternity
waistband. A gift from Angie when they’d found out that Amelia was expecting. And a white, oversized cotton top that she’d picked up for a few bucks over the weekend because it was soft.
The top wasn’t her style. But...it felt good. Better than any other shirt in her closet. Being with Craig felt better than anything she’d ever known in her life.
“What if you love him, Mel?”
She hoped she didn’t. Hoped it would pass. But even if it didn’t. “It wouldn’t matter if I did. He wants to get married.”
“Maybe you should think about that.”
She shook her head. Adamantly. “I know I can’t.”
“Maybe you can.”
“I can’t live in that house.”
“Maybe he’d move in a heartbeat if it meant he could be a family with you.”
She shook her head. Again.
“I’m not saying he’d move. Or that you should marry him, Mel. I’m only saying that something’s not right deep inside you. And it seemed perfectly right a week ago. Maybe it’s time for you to reassess. Maybe you’ve learned from your mistakes with Mike, but you’ve let your fear that you can’t trust yourself blind you to the fact that you’ve grown up. You’ve changed. You know your limits now. And yet, you could be letting them stop you from finding happiness.”
“I’m happy with Isabella.”
“And what is it going to do to her if she grows up with your entire happiness resting upon her? Can you imagine how hard it would be for her to ever leave home? Leave town? Follow her own dreams? If she loves you as much as I think she will, she’d be eaten up with guilt, leaving you alone...”
“Stop.” She couldn’t hear any more.
But she also couldn’t deny that there was some truth in what her sister was saying.
“I don’t want to love him.”
“I think you do love him, though.”
“I’m scared to death to love him.”
“And right there...that’s your truth.”
* * *
On Wednesday, a week from the day he’d walked out of Amelia’s life, Craig called her.
The contract he’d signed with the Parent Portal didn’t give him the right to dial that number. The fact that he’d been her lover did. He’d had a long week. Wasn’t in a real generous or patient frame of mind.
He’d been short with his PA, with his receptionist and with his closest friend. None of them deserved the treatment.
He’d apologized to all of them, one at a time. Had taken one out to dinner and given gift cards for dinner out to the other two.
“Craig?” She sounded breathless when she picked up the phone.
“I’d like a word with you, in person,” he said. And then added, “At your convenience.” He wasn’t a complete boor.
He’d done a lot of thinking. He’d had no choice, being forced by his own petulance, to spend the majority of time with only himself and Talley for company.
That girl—she sure had a way of staring a guy down when she thought he needed to fix things.
“I’m free now,” she said. “I’m still at the office. You want to come here?”
“Is your sister there?” He’d like to meet her on his way out the door.
“Yeah, but she has her own office.”
“I’m on my way.” Already in his car, he turned the wheel sharply, made a quick U-turn and sped up the street. Before he changed his mind and got all polite again.
Amelia was waiting for him at the back door of her suite in the plush, new, one-story complex.
“You look tired,” he said, noting the darker skin around her eyes, the puffiness of her lids. The rest of her, what he could see of her in the baggy shirt, was just...good to be near.
“I am tired,” she told him. “It’s been a rough week.”
She could have been referring to work, perhaps a computer crash or some other fashion-related crisis about which he would normally care a great deal. Because he knew she cared. And because her business was her livelihood.
He didn’t care to be distracted at the moment. “Yes, it has been a rough week,” he said, hands in the pockets of his navy pants as he walked into her office as though he’d been there before. He didn’t look around. Didn’t take in much. The smell was nice. The space roomy—with lots of floral patterns and bright colors. He adjusted his tie and shoved his hand right back into his pocket.
“I have some things to say,” he said, reiterating what he’d told her in the car.
“Okay.”
And there he was. At the point of no return. And couldn’t remember, for a second, why he’d been so sure he had to reach that place. Until he glanced at the door he’d entered through and knew he’d be exiting it shortly.
“I love you,” he said. “I am in love with you. Isabella is my daughter, biologically, but in my heart, too. I have no legal rights to her. I’m not asking for any, nor do I intend to do so, but no one has a right to dictate what’s in my heart.”
“I’ve realized some things. I’ve let fear...”
“I—”
He wasn’t done yet. Couldn’t let her distract him from finishing what he’d come to do. “I know you don’t want to get married. I’m not asking you to. I just had to say what I have to say. This whole thing...it started out for good purpose, but my mistake was in continuing to see you when I knew I was falling in love. I fell in love with you not because of the baby you were carrying, but because you’re the most fascinating, intriguing, frustrating woman I’ve ever known. That’s when I should have left. I didn’t. And now here we are, friends who can’t be in touch because we took it too far. I’m sorry for that, too.”
“I’m afraid to be a wife.”
“I’m not asking you to be one,” he said, finally looking her in the eye. Needing her to understand badly enough that he was willing to take the pain that came with connecting to her. “I’d never ask you to do something that is wrong for you, Amelia. Please don’t misunderstand. At the same time, I can’t go on understanding others and not speaking up on my own behalf. I get your situation, just like I got Tricia’s. I respected her position, didn’t want to pressure her, and so I never told her how deeply it affected me. Maybe if I had, if I’d explained more completely my concerns where fathering Gavin without legal protections was concerned, if I’d continued to speak them, something might have been different. Maybe not. I’m not here to try to convince you of anything. Or pressure you. I don’t want a relationship that doesn’t fit. In the long run it would be catastrophic. I just needed to say what I had to say. So that if you contact me in the future, and I hope you will, just for occasional updates if nothing else, everything is out in the open. We all know clearly where we stand.”
“I’m afraid.”
Their gazes were locked this time as she said the words. A sheen appeared in those expressive green-with-a-tint-of-gold eyes. Her lip trembled.
And his hands started to shake.
“I’m afraid, Craig. Afraid to spread myself too thin. To have to choose between a husband and child. Afraid I’ll make the wrong choice. Like I did with Mike and Angie. I’m not saying I don’t want to try, because I know I do...and I’m petrified I’ll screw up...”
Was she giving him hope here?
“Angie wasn’t your responsibility,” he said, trying to adjust his thinking, just in case. Leaving a door open that he’d come to close. “She’s your sister, not your daughter, and he, by all accounts, was a controlling, insecure creep.” He wasn’t holding anything back. There was just too much at stake.
“She looked to me to be the mother our mom couldn’t be. We, uh, had a talk yesterday.”
Shifting his weight back and forth between his heels and his toes, he adjusted his tie again. Loosened it a bit. Stood in that proverbial doorway, both feet in, but with the escape route open.
“So, you�
��re afraid.”
She nodded.
“But not necessarily opposed, morally, ethically or in your heart of hearts to give us a try?”
Biting her lower lip, she narrowed her eyes, but didn’t turn away from him. “In my heart of hearts I’m so in love with you there is nothing else. I want to be your wife, Craig. That’s my truth. But I’m still desperately afraid of that, too.”
Through pursed lips, he watched her. Looked for signs of prevarication. Of uncertainty. Signs that she was saying what she thought he needed to hear. A sign that she was speaking out of need to tend to him, not from the truth in her heart. But there were none.
“Ask her to marry you already!”
Swinging around, Craig did a double take as a woman with a striking resemblance to Amelia threw back the office door that led into the suite. “You both are a piece of work.” The woman, who was most clearly Angeline Grace, came into the room. “Both of you taking care of others to the point of not just grabbing for yourselves. Grab, for God’s sake.”
“Craig, I’d like you to meet my sister, Angie,” Amelia said, still standing just as he’d left her.
He turned back to Amelia, leaving a beautiful woman behind him, but one who didn’t shine at him as Amelia did.
“Amelia Grace, will you marry me?” he asked.
She nodded, biting her lip, blinking back tears. He heard a little gulp behind him and turned to see Angeline crying, too, her hands clasped against her mouth.
“I know she comes as a package deal,” he told Angie, as serious as he could be. “Isabella and you, too.”
Angie sniffed. Kept her arms up and her hands on either side of her chin as she said, “And you’re going to have to move,” she told him. “She’s the marrying kind, but some issues...”
“I’m fine living in a tepee if Amelia’s there,” he said, figuring he was getting his first taste of the rest of his life. He turned back to the woman who’d changed everything for him. “The house was a symbol of something,” he said. “This week, being there alone, it was nothing but an empty reminder of what I didn’t have. I’ve already met with a Realtor and put it on the market.”
A Baby Affair Page 17
