I study Calvin’s face. I wonder if he knows about Matt and Nicole. He and Matt are really close—I would have thought Matt told him everything. But he seems genuinely confused.
“I just don’t want to bother him,” I finally say.
Calvin shakes his head for a moment, but eventually shrugs his shoulders. “Okay, so… how are we supposed to get you out of the building? I’m going to be honest here—I don’t think I can carry you down nine stories.”
I feel tears rising in my eyes. What a ridiculous problem. Nobody else would be in this situation but me. “I don’t know!”
“Hey…” Calvin holds out his hand to touch me, but I yank my arm away before he gets any ideas. “Look, don’t cry. We’ll figure it out.”
Will we? At this point, I’m worried we’ll have to call the fire department.
He chews on his lip, deep in thought. “What if I stand in front of you while you climb down the stairs? That way, if you fall, I can catch you.”
So we do it. Calvin walks about two steps ahead of me, and we go down the stairs together very, very slowly. He keeps glancing back at me to make sure I’m okay, which causes him to nearly lose his footing at one point. It’s a half-hour ordeal, but we make it to the ground floor together.
“Wow,” he comments, “I can’t believe we made it.”
I manage a tiny smile. “Thank you. Truly.”
He frowns, studying my face. “Look, Anna, whatever is going on with you and Matt—”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Yeah, but—”
“It’s none of your business,” I say sharply.
Calvin winces, as if I slapped him. “Okay then.”
And now I feel bad. He just spent thirty minutes helping me get down the stairs. I shouldn’t have snapped at him. “I’m sorry,” I say. “It’s just… I’m having a hard time now.”
He smiles crookedly. “No, I get it. Ginger was emotional as hell when she was pregnant too.”
If only it were just that.
“But you should know Matt really loves you,” he says. “And whatever shit is going on with you, you need to talk to him. He’ll help you. I mean, he’s a much better husband than me.”
I want to snap at Calvin that he’s a better husband than Matt unless he’s fooled around with the secretary at work. But it’s none of his business. I keep my words to myself.
“Thanks again,” I say.
“Sure. Do you need help with… anything else?”
I shake my head no. I can get to my car and get home okay. But how am I going to get to work tomorrow? How am I going to go upstairs to my bedroom tonight? What on earth am I going to do?
Chapter 50: Matt
I grab Taco Bell on the way home from work. Anna and I have been eating separately most nights now, and I’m sick of TV dinners. After I hit the drive-thru, I pull over and eat the tacos in the parking lot. If I bring the bag into the house, Anna will make some judgmental comment about how I’m going to get dysentery from contaminated meat, and I’m just not in the mood for it. If she’s not even going to speak to me while we eat, I may as well eat my tacos in the car.
When I get home though, Anna still isn’t there. I know she stays late at work to have the elevator to herself, but it’s definitely on the later side now. I check my phone to make sure there are no messages from her. What if she went into labor? She’d tell me, right?
Wouldn’t she?
Shit.
I call Anna, but she doesn’t pick up. I try to push the thought that something went wrong out of my head. Even despite our problems, she would tell me if she went into labor. She’s fine. She’s probably just… absorbed in some work. Anna has a way of losing track of time.
I open the closet to stuff my jacket inside when I see a black backpack I don’t recognize lying on the floor. Is that a bag Anna packed to go to the hospital with? I wonder what she would have packed. My sister bought us an outfit to bring the baby home from the hospital, but we haven’t gotten much else. Things have been so tense between us that we keep putting it off. All we’ve got are a few outfits, a bassinet, and our car seats.
I pull the backpack onto my lap and unzip it. I peer at the contents. And I feel sick.
It’s a breast pump.
It’s a fucking breast pump. What the hell is Anna doing with a breast pump? Why is she thinking about breastfeeding? We agreed once she had the baby, she was going to go back on all her medications, which meant breastfeeding wouldn’t be safe. She isn’t thinking about continuing to stay off her meds after having the baby, is she?
I can’t deal with Anna being off her meds any longer. I can’t deal with her refusing to let me touch her, acting like I’m a stranger, being terrified of everything. It’s killing our marriage. She’s not really contemplating prolonging this for another… how long do women breastfeed? Six months? A year?
Goddamn it.
The lock turns to the front door and Anna stumbles inside. She has circles under her blue eyes, and she looks like she’s about to collapse. My anger at finding the breast pump dampens my relief at discovering she’s all right. I can’t do this anymore. I’m sick of this shit.
“What is this?” I snap at Anna, holding up the pump. I give it a shake for good measure.
She looks down at the black backpack, regarding me with cool blue eyes. “It’s a breast pump. Marissa gave it to me.”
“Why? You’re not breastfeeding.”
There’s a defiant look in her eyes. “Well, maybe I will. After all, I want to do what’s best for Otto.”
Otto? We had not agreed on Otto as the name. But okay, one thing at a time. “Listen, Anna,” I say. “You’re supposed to go back on your meds once you have the baby. You need them.”
She snorts. “Didn’t you tell me once that you’d love me for me, even without being drugged up?”
I suck in a breath. I did say that to her once.
“I suppose you changed your mind.” She shrugs. “Now you only love the chemically-induced version of me. And now she’s gone.”
“Don’t turn this around,” I say, shaking the backpack again. “You’ve been a mess since you’ve been off your meds, and you know it. You’re terrified of everything. You’re miserable. And you won’t even let me…” I bite my lip. “We hardly even talk anymore.”
“Well, whose fault is that?”
Fault? What is she talking about? What is she blaming me for? Why is she so angry at me?
“Anna,” I say in a low voice. “What’s going on? What are you so upset about?”
She opens her mouth, and even though I’m scared of what she’s going to say, I’m glad I’m finally going to get to know what the hell is going on here. But then before anything comes out, she shakes her head. “I’m going upstairs.”
What. The. Fuck?
Fine. If she wants to be passive-aggressive like that, fine. Let her go upstairs where she knows I won’t follow her. I can’t talk to her when she’s like this anyway.
She grabs the railing of the stairs, puts her foot on the first step, then stops. She ducks her head down and takes a few deep breaths. Her face is pale. And despite my frustration and anger, I feel a twinge of worry.
“Are you okay?” I ask her.
“Yes, I…” She lifts her head to look at the flight of stairs to the second floor. “I’m just worried about falling on the stairs. We have… I didn’t realize how many stairs we have. We have a lot, don’t we?”
I stare at her in disbelief. How could she say that to me with a straight face? “Are you fucking kidding me? You think I don’t realize how many stairs we have? Look at me, Anna.”
Her cheeks color. “But I never thought about how it wouldn’t be safe. I could fall. I could fall while holding the baby.”
Her eyes widen and she looks terrified. I’m torn between wanting to comfort her and wanting to shake her like I did the backpack.
“Anna,” I say in an even, controlled voice. “I’ve wanted to ge
t a house with no stairs for years. You wouldn’t let me.”
“That’s not true.”
“It is true!” Okay, the even, controlled voice is going out the window. “I’ve been begging you to move. You know I hate it here. But you wouldn’t do it for me. Only for the baby.”
“Well, what do you care?” she snaps back. “You won’t be living with me soon anyway, will you?”
What?
“Anna,” I sputter. “What are you talking about? Why won’t I be living with you?”
She doesn’t answer me. Her face has gone very pale and she’s just standing there. She sways for a second, and I wheel over to try to catch her, but she goes down on the first step before I can get to her. That’s when I look down and see a small puddle of clear liquid where she’d been standing.
“Anna?” I whisper.
“I think my water broke,” she manages. “I… I need to go to the hospital.”
“Okay.” Christ, this is happening fast. I thought we had another few weeks. “Where’s your hospital bag?”
“Upstairs,” she says miserably.
I look up the flight of stairs. Well, that’s not happening. “I’ll have my sister bring it to us. Let’s just go to the hospital. Come on.”
She nods, using the railing to help her get back on her feet. “You don’t have to come. I’ll take my car.”
“Are you out of your mind?” I don’t know what’s going on with Anna, but I’ve had enough. “You are not driving yourself to the hospital. We’re taking my car.”
“Your car is dirty.”
“You’ve got two choices,” I say, “either you get in my goddamn car and let me drive you to the hospital, or I’m calling 911 for an ambulance to take you there. But you’re not driving yourself while in labor, okay?”
She won’t look at me. I don’t want to make good on my threat to call 911, but I’ll do it if I have to. She’s not getting in her own car. No way.
“Fine,” she sighs, without looking at me. “Let’s go.”
Chapter 51: Anna
I’ve never been a patient in a hospital before.
But here I am, lying in bed in a bright hospital room, the window next to me providing what would be a possible escape if only we weren’t on the fifth floor. I allowed them to examine me to determine the sac of amniotic fluid surrounding the baby had, in fact, ruptured, but then refused any further interventions. The nurse wanted to put in an IV, but I told them no. No, thank you. I will stay in this bed, but that is all.
The nurse, a middle-aged woman named Karen with her hair in a no-nonsense bun, says to me, “You know, if you don’t deliver within twenty-four hours of your water breaking, there’s an increased risk of infection. We have to induce you.”
“When the baby is ready to come, he’ll come,” I say confidently.
Karen looks at Matt, who is stubbornly planted by my side. I wish he’d leave. It can’t be hygienic to have a wheelchair from outside in a clean hospital room. His wheels must be filthy.
“Anna,” he says, “let them put in the IV. Please, Anna.”
I look at my husband. He’s trying to stay calm, but the fear in his eyes is plain. I don’t know what he’s so worried about. He’s going to leave me after the baby comes anyway.
“I’ll think about it,” I finally say, just to shut everyone up.
Karen sighs and leaves us alone. Matt reaches out to try to take my hand, but that’s a charade I’m not willing to go along with, so I pull away. I turn my face away, so I don’t have to look at him.
“You can go if you want,” I say. “I’ll be fine without you.”
He’s quiet for a moment. I wonder if he’s thinking about whether he wants to leave. I gave him an out. He doesn’t have to stay if he doesn’t want to.
“Anna.” He takes my hand again and this time won’t let me pull away. “Look, I was trying to give you your space, but… no, enough. You need to tell me what’s going on. Now. Why the hell do you think I would want to leave? You’re about to give birth to our child… my son. Why would I leave?”
He really wants to do this now? Well, fine.
“I know everything, Matt.” The tears are rising up in my eyes again. I try to push them back—I don’t want him to see me cry. “I know about you and Nicole, so you can quit the act.”
“Me and…” He shakes his head. I must admit, he’s giving a good impression of being completely befuddled. “Me and Nicole? What about me and Nicole? What are you talking about?”
“I know you’re having an affair with her.”
Matt’s brown eyes turn into saucers. “An affair? With Nicole? Are you out of your mind?”
He’s a good liar. If I hadn’t heard it with my own ears, I’d be doubtful. “Let’s not pretend, okay? I know the truth. I know you’re planning to leave me after the baby comes.”
“What?” He lets go of my hand and grabs the pushrims of his chair. “Planning to leave you? Are you kidding me? Anna, where did all this come from?”
“I heard you!”
“Heard me? Saying what?”
“You were with her in the breakroom.” I feel my abdomen tightening up and wince at the sudden jab of pain. “I heard you tell her you… you couldn’t stand me. That you wanted to leave me.”
Matt stares at me for a good minute. He knows I’ve got him. “You heard…”
“Yes, I heard it all.”
“No,” he says. “You didn’t hear it all. I wasn’t talking about you. Christ, you really think I’d say all that about you? I was talking about Jack Rogers. That asshole. I was telling Nicole I wanted to leave the company, but I didn’t want to do it when you were about to have the baby.”
I look at Matt’s face, at his familiar, kind brown eyes. I’ve spent the last month hating him for what I thought he was planning to do to me. Could I really have gotten it all wrong? I think back to that conversation, desperately trying to remember what he and Nicole were saying in that room.
“I don’t believe you,” I finally say. “I know you’ve been sneaking off somewhere on days you work from home. You’ve been meeting someone, haven’t you?”
His mouth falls open. I’ve got him. I wanted so badly to believe him, but there was too much evidence of his lies.
“I…” he begins. He lowers his eyes. “Fine. You’re right. There’s something I haven’t told you, but… it’s not what you think.”
I look up at him, bracing myself. He takes a deep breath. Here it comes. The truth—finally.
“I have a new MS lesion in my spine,” he says, his voice breaking on the words. “My right hand has… it’s been weak.” He holds up his hand, making a fist with it. His fingers close but it’s clearly not a tight fist. “I had to go see Dr. Dunne, get an MRI, and then… I’ve been going to occupational therapy to work on strengthening my hand again.” He sighs. “I didn’t tell you because I figured you’d be worried, and you had enough to worry about. I was trying to spare you.”
I remember that day when I asked him to open that jar and he wouldn’t do it. He’s not lying about this. Matt’s MS is progressing. He’s been too scared to tell me, and instead, has been dealing with it on his own. And all the while, I’ve been shutting him out, scared I was going to be raising this baby all alone.
“Matt,” I murmur. “I wish you had told me.”
He smiles crookedly. “In retrospect, so do I.”
“Is… I mean, do they think it’s going to get worse?”
He gets a troubled look on his face, and I realize how much he’s been dealing with by himself. It must have been terrifying for him. “Dr. Dunne isn’t sure. Hopefully not, but obviously, you never know. It’s not… unlikely.”
I look down at Matt’s hands. What would he do if he got much weaker? It would be life-changing.
“I was worried I wouldn’t be able to help you with the baby,” he murmurs. “I mean, right now, it just means I have to focus a little more when I’m gripping things, but… who the hell knows what wi
ll happen?”
“Whatever happens,” I say firmly, “I will help you. I want to know everything.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” he says. “Especially since fifteen minutes ago, I thought you were going to kick me out of the house.”
I can’t help it—I start to cry. I really believed Matt was planning to leave me for Nicole. But he doesn’t want to leave me. He wants to be here for me. He still loves me. He’s putting his arms around me to comfort me even though I’m fat and leaking amniotic fluid and now getting snot on his shirt.
“I’m sorry I’ve been so awful to you,” I whisper into his shoulder.
“No,” he says, “I’m kicking myself for not telling you everything from the beginning.” He pulls back for a moment, brushing sweaty blond hairs from my face. “I just want you to know that I would never leave you. Never. Not if you got off your meds, not if you made me live in a house with ten flights of stairs—never. I love you so much, Anna.”
“I love you too,” I murmur. “I was so scared that…”
He shakes his head. “We’re both idiots. Let’s leave it at that, okay?”
I nod, smiling through my tears.
He puts his hand on my belly, and this time, I let him. I figure the baby’s too big to be crushed by his hand. “We’re about to have a baby. Can you believe it?”
“Of course I believe it. I’ve been pregnant for nearly a year!”
He laughs. “I’m just saying… it’s surreal. We’re going to be parents.”
It is surreal. It’s hard to imagine bringing a baby home with us. Being in charge of his little life.
I’m so glad Matt got rid of all those knives.
“But Anna,” he says, his face growing serious, “you need to let them put in that IV. I know you’re scared, but what you’re doing is putting the baby at risk. They have to induce you.”
I shake my head. “I just can’t do it…”
He takes my hand in both of his. “What are you worried about? Tell me.”
“I guess…” I try to put my fears into words. It just seems scary. An IV. I’ve never had one of those before. “Have you ever had an IV?”
Baby Crazy (Matt & Anna Book 2) Page 18
