by Diana Scott
“All right, I'll sign them.”
“We'll have everything by next Thursday. You may be present if you wish.”
Present? If so far he hadn’t been able to think of him as a father much less was he prepared for the birth of a baby that he did not even get to see as real. How would he be able to take care of a baby? He couldn’t, He couldn't. What did he know about caresses and feelings? That baby would need a lot of love, one he never had, how can you give love when you barely recognize its meaning?
“Mr. Blackman, I will send the authorizations to Raymond. I understand that you will continue your treatment in this clinic, that's very good news.”
“Why do you say that?”
“The baby will need physical contact and being two floors down will be perfect for the girl.” The doctor opened her eyes regretting her mistake. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry... I didn't ask if you wanted to know.”
The poor woman dried her sweat from her nerves. That man managed to make her really nervous. His wheelchair didn't diminish his disturbingly and seductive hotness at all.
“A girl?”
“Yes," she replied excitedly. “You will be the father of a beautiful girl.”
“Girl? Girl! That's even worse, how am I supposed to raise a girl?”
Reed thought that if it was bad enough to be a father, it would be worse if she was a sweet, delicate little girl.
“If you wish, I can...”
“Leave me alone!”
When the woman saw how cloudy his gaze was, she preferred to forget her flirting plans and run away.”
A girl, a girl... a sweet, soft and fragile girl, one who will want to feel my affection but my dry heart will not know how to do it. A little thing that I won't know how to love... one that won't have red hair, or green eyes, or blush because of nonsense... one that will never adore archaeology or dream of fairytale adventures...
Reed covered his face with both hands broken by pain. Blackman, the hard, cold, insensitive man with the darkest past, stroked Olivia's cold hand and cried out for forgiveness. Forgive for not having protected her, forgive for not having been stronger, forgive for never having loved her...
I'm here to stay
I'm not leaving. I will not leave. I can do it, I control my life, it won't beat me. I repeat the mantra over and over again before entering the rehab room. I am not willing to resign myself and leave like the previous four times. This time it's over, he'll accept my help even if I have to scream like a madwoman. Attitude, attitude... I have the attitude...
I'll hold on to the chair with chains, but I'm not leaving here. I care very little for his insults, I know he needs me and I will be with him whether he likes it or not. Self-esteem hits her chest with a clenched fist.
“Well, it wasn't bad, I think I'll go and get some water.”
“Nigger, you're not only a fool, but blind too. On the bicycle you have a full bottle.” Reed smiled to provoke him.
“I don't like that brand. I'll get another one.”
“And you're supposed to leave me here hanging from this damn ramp when I’m about to drown? Don't even dream about it. Come back here, damn it!”
“You're not hung up, you're attached, and I won't be long.”
“But may I know what the fuck is wrong with you?”
Reed was screaming, hanging from his ropes but Raymond didn't flinch and left just as we had planned.
“Hello, Reed...”
He can't see me because I'm behind his back. The harnesses are holding him in a standing position, but the tension in his body indicates his discomfort at my visit.
“It’s you. I should have known.”
“Yes and I don't care if...”
“Could you help me?”
“What?” I'm confused.
“If you hit that red button, the harnesses will loosen and I'll be able to sit in the chair.”
“Oh yes, of course.”
I hit a huge button on the wall and the harnesses start to release very slowly.
“Well, I wanted to tell you that...”
“Could you hand me the chair? “
“Oh, yes, of course.”
I bring the chair closer and I notice how he uses his arms to manage to hold most of his weight and try to sit down. His legs may be weak, but they don't look weak at all. Every inch of his body remains as strong and deliciously hard as before. The muscles of his arms continue to be marked under that delicate black cotton t-shirt, provoking me thoughts of no compassion at all.
“Hey, anyway... as I told you, I'm here because I think...”
“I think that if you don't bring it a little closer, I'll fall on my ass.”
“Of course, I'm so clumsy.” I pull up the chair and see how hard it is, but he successfully manages to sit down. It's clear that every day he gets a little more strength and my mouth is watering to think how those arms would hold his weight over mine and ... Anne!
“Well... well, now that you're settled I wanted to tell you that I'm here because I wanted to tell you that..”.
“Anne, I know you perfectly well and I know how stubborn you can be.”
“Oh, yes, well, coming from you, I'll take that comment as a compliment. I wanted to explain...”
“That's fine with me, and now that you're so willing to be my friend, would you help me get to the waiting room on the fourth floor?”
Friend, what are you talking about? I didn't say anything about friendship. The truth is that I didn't talk about anything, he wouldn't let me.
I look at him and I sit down without being able not to fall in love with his appearence with or without a wheelchair, he is still the most attractive man I have ever met. I want him so bad it hurts. A friend? Compassion? No, that is not how I feel about you, Mr. Blackman. The chair has not taken away an ounce of your seductive power over me, and although I am ashamed to admit it, I want to remain by your side and not as a simple friend.
“Have you given it a thought and you no longer want to be my new nurse? I understand, you can leave, Raymond will come back someday.”
“I'm not your nurse... I...”
“A friend who will take me to the fourth floor? I'm still not able to control these damn wheels," he says, trying to settle in.
“I'll take you there.”
“Then don't stay like a mummy and push. This gossip doesn't move by itself.”
“A ‘please’ wouldn't kill you,” I whisper.
I walk to the fourth floor quietly. What am I supposed to say? Should I thank him for not throwing me out or I tell him that he’s a complete asshole?
In theory, he allows me to stay as a friend but he talks to me like his gardener, I don't understand. Go up, go down, down there... come on, I look like the trunk of the airport. Dr. Klein warned me of the bad character of some victims, but their manners would test even Jesus Christ himself. At first he kicks me out and now he treats me like the worst of his employees, what does all this mean? In the end, I have a goal, so... attitude Anne, attitude.
“This is not the corridor!”
“I'm sorry," I say biting my tongue. “Would you tell me where to go?”
I have to be patient, Reed has been through a traumatic situation and if I want to be by his side I have to support him. That's the attitude: support and understanding.
“You can read, can't you?”
“To this day, yes.”
And if I let you go down the stairs, wouldn't you get there faster? No, Anne! That's not the attitude. You're here to help him and that's what you'll do. Self-esteem counts to ten.
“Fourth floor, waiting room, and now what?”
“In the right corridor there are coffee machines.”
“I sense you're asking me to buy you one.”
“Smart girl, I want a...”
“Dark without sugar," I answered without thinking.
“Good memory... for what you want,” he whispers unwillingly.
“What are you talking about?”
“You can leave, I d
on't want coffee anymore.”
“I'll bring it to you and you'll swallow it with that nice little mouth or I'll crash it against your head.”
You fucking asshole. If you think your bad manners are going to scare me, you're done. I also know you well enough to recognize your clumsy strategies. I walk no more than ten steps and find the machine, squeeze the coins in with frustration and frame a coffee for him and a lime tree for me. I pick them up and squeeze the blissful plastic cups so hard that I almost burst them between my fingers.
“Here you go.”
“Thank you.”
“Oh look, but it seems like you still have some good manners,” I take a sip of my lime blossom hiding my smile of satisfaction. “And who exactly are we waiting for?”
“My daughter.”
The glass with my tea was about to stain me completely if it wasn’t because I managed to hold it with both hands at the right time.
“I thought you knew it. It's an emergency intervention. Olivia has had several seizures during the week and they don't think the baby will make it if it's not removed before the next heart failure.”
His daughter... his daughter... My clarity clouds and jealousy emerges like lava in a burning volcano. I am troubled, my body trembles with fear for me and for that baby. We both endure unfair situations.
The little one is not to blame for our mistakes but I am not able to control the rage that grows out of control. God, I'm sorry, I'm a horrible woman and a very bad person but I can't help thinking that if Olivia hadn't been infatuated with Reed none of this would be happening to us.
We both kept quiet and drank from our glasses without looking up. What am I supposed to say to him, what are the exact words to say to the man you love and who waits for the birth of his daughter with a woman who is not you?
“I get that you are asking me for an explanation,” his deep voice cuts through the deadly silence.
“Maybe, but it's not the right moment.”
“You're right, you don't deserve it.”
What? What exactly does that comment mean?
“After all, it was you who abandoned me.”
“I didn't abandon you, you know perfectly well I couldn't see you by her side," I sighed resignedly. “You chose her over me. Don't change the facts.”
“That doesn't matter anymore.”
“You see, you always take the truth for granted. You always do what you think is best without the opinion of those involved. Maybe I wanted to take the risk of being by your side, but it was you who decided for me, as always, without asking! Deciding for me without my consent!”
“Look, Anne Foster! I’m prostrated in a damn wheelchair, what do you think Falconi would have done to you if his own daughter was dying because of me? You think they would have mercy on you!”
“It was my decision. You had no right to choose for me. I wanted to be by your side but it was with her that you stayed...”
“I had no other way to take Falconi away from you! And if it happened again, I'd do it again a thousand times not to lose you...”
“And that's why you expect a child from her? Why didn't you want to lose me? Did you do it for me? Hey Reed! You slept with her because of the great love you had for me, it's not like that!” I shouted furiously without caring if the room had a painting of a lady in a white hat and a finger on her mouth asking for silence.
“You would never understand it...”
“Then explain yourself better!”
Tears fall down my cheeks and I try to dry them quickly, I don't want him to see me like that, I don't want to behave like a jealous madwoman but I can't help it and what's worse, I regret it enormously.
“I think you should leave,” my presence displeases him, I can feel it in his voice.
“I don't want to leave, I want to be by your side... I'm sorry, I wasn’t thinking, I didn't want to, it's not the right time. I'd like to stay with you.”
“And I need you to leave...” His blue eyes clouded with pain. “I don't hate you, I just ask you to let me face my mistakes today in the loneliness of my shame.”
His words are broken by grief and I curse myself for my lack of self-control. I should have kept quiet and not jump like boiled milk but this situation is too complicated to assume for a heart as damaged as mine. It was not the time to get mad, my God, what was I thinking?! I am a complete fool. This is not the attitude!
I sigh resignedly, I have made a mistake and one of the serious ones.
“All right, I'm leaving, but I'll be back tomorrow. This isn't over.”
Reed turns the chair, approaches the living room window without answering me, and I feel like the worst woman on the planet. Jealousy has managed to dominate me to such an extent that stupidity has taken hold of my words. How could I recriminate her behavior when they are operating on an almost dead woman to extract her baby? Fuck Anne! Fuck...
I walk slowly, I don't want to leave but I don't have any other choice, do I?
I walk away from the room deceiving Reed into thinking I'm gone but I stay close enough to watch him from a distance. Yes, now I have become a stalker, but I have no alternative. I don't resign myself to not being by his side and accompanying him at this time and I also want to be his support if... enough of fooling myself! I don't resign myself to losing him and I'm afraid of that baby, of Olivia and of anyone who can separate me from his side. That's the only truth.
I lie on the wall but time passes and my legs are heavy. I decide to sit in a hidden corner but tiredness dominates me and darkness surrounds me. Maybe if I take a short nap to relax...
“Anne... Anne... wake up.”
“Eh, I did what?”
“What are you doing here asleep?” Suraj asks a curious question.
“I was waiting, but I lost track of time.”
“I thought so.”
“Do you know anything, was she born?”
“Yes, and she's a beautiful child.”
“A little girl...”
“Yes, if you want to see her in the living room, there are glass windows facing the outside. Reed is with her now.”
“Is he there?” “
“Yes, and he'll be glad to see you, I'll go with you. You should see his face, he looks like a father totally in love with his little girl, it's like he's gone soft in a matter of seconds.” “That little girl will get him back.”
Suraj's words are like a bucket of cold water.
“I have to go.”
“Don't be silly, I'll go with you and you can see her.”
“I'd rather go home. Tomorrow will be another day.”
“Anne, today it's another day.”
“Yes, but I'm not ready today. I thought so, but no.”
“Shall I take you home?”
“I thank you, but I need you to give me some air... alone.”
“You're not being fair,” his words have all the weight of an angry brother.
“Fair? Don't make me laugh. As if justice had ever been on my side.”
With my hands in my pockets, I head towards the exit. A girl. Reed Blackman's daughter is born, she is a child and she is not mine. He is happy, his heart is softening and I was not the cause of her happiness. Jealousy? Yes, a million.
I walk watching people pass by me, all of them surviving their bitter lives without imagining the contained rage that bursts inside me. I wanted to be his refuge, his hope, his love, the woman of his life, but nothing has changed. My actual state: Anne is still the other.
The cold hits my face trying to wake me from a self-pity that I am not able to stop. The sky is black, the world is black and my life is shit. Self-esteem scolds me angry. Yes, yes, I know it's a baby, a nice, plump little baby who is not to blame for our nonsense but I can't!
I'm not like that, what's happening to me? I walk aimlessly. I may not have been the safest woman in the universe before, but today I have reached the top of my worst achievement. I'm afraid of someone I shouldn't fear. That little girl is a drop of
happiness in the midst of so much broken love and I have fled like a coward. Who am I? Instability has turned me into an affective bipolar.
The girl must be a precious one, one with the same shiny dark hair but with a deep warmth of innocence in her eyes... Who am I trying to fool, I'd love to have her in my arms! I would like to bite her and spoil her until I become someone special in her life but, of course, I can't because... Wait a minute! I stop and step on a poor little dog that walks in front of me and grunts annoyed.
“Ugh, cutie, I'm sorry.” I caress the Yorkshire who decides to forgive me long before his owner.
I turn decisively and return to the clinic. And why not? Self-esteem lifts her thumbs up.
Innocent magic
“Part eighty-four, shelf six. Classified and ordered,” at least one of the aspects of my life is in order because in the last days I am covering myself with glory. “Piece seventy-three, shelf four. Perfect.”
Perfect? Ha! I wish everything was perfect. After what I've endured, I don't ask for much, do I? With a little bit of good sense of humor, I think I'd be satisfied, but, of course, it's Blackman and that's not part of his essence. God, I think I would be capable of kill him sometimes. If I wasn't so in love, I would have herded him with his own chair.
“Are you talking to yourself?”
“I'm afraid so. What brings you here?” I answer a little embarrassed to poor Solange, who looks at me confused.
Reed leads me headlong and down the path of bitterness. I find myself in a basement full of old pieces, feeling sorry for myself, but of course, either this or I'll hang him with my own hands on the next visit. Self-esteem begins to break his shirt like a Hulk in full transformation.
“Do you dislike your new job that much?”
“No! Don't even think about it! Working in this gallery is the dream of any professional and I couldn't be more grateful. Coming here every day is my only moment of peace,” I snort while I arrange the records of the catalogued pieces in a big orange file cabinet.
“So what's the problem? I could swear by your gestures that when I entered, you were cursing the same demon.”
“And you're not wrong.”
“I get it. How hard is the process being?”
