So Much It Hurts

by Dawn, Melanie

  “Wow, you’re serious,” he said, as he set his laptop down on the end table, and laid his bowl of ice cream on the coffee table. “What’s wrong? Is something wrong with the baby?”

  “No. I mean, it’s about the baby, but nothing’s wrong with it.”

  “Then what is it, Kaitlyn? You’re starting to freak me out a little bit.”

  “Michael, I messed up. I messed up big time.”

  “What do you mean?” Michael’s wide eyes filled with worry.

  I didn’t know how else to put it, so I just came right out and said it. “This baby...” I said, pointing to my abdomen. “This baby might not be yours.”

  Michael stared at me, taking time to process the words I had spoken. A range of emotions presented themselves across his face, and I took a step back.

  Suddenly, fury darkened his eyes. Glaring at me, he practically growled, “How?”

  I said the first thing that popped into my head. “What do you mean, how?” Idiot, I chided myself.

  “Don’t give me that shit, Kaitlyn.” His anger started to make its way to the surface. “Tell me, how?” he seethed.

  “I screwed up, okay. I’m sorry. I don’t have an excuse. I just totally screwed everything up!” I wailed, my tears bursting out of my eyes and flowing down my cheeks.

  “You’re damn right you screwed up!” Michael yelled and punched his fist into the arm of the sofa. He jumped up from the couch and stomped behind it to create a barrier between us. “When did this happen? Who did you fuck? How long have you been fucking him?” He paced angrily back and forth like a caged tiger.

  “I…I…” The words just wouldn’t come out.

  “Tell me, Kaitlyn! I deserve to know! I’m your husband!”

  “It only happened once, Michael! I’m not having an affair. It happened once and I haven’t seen him since!”

  “Who? Answer me that.”

  “Michael, please. I—”

  “Tell me! Who?” he demanded.

  “It was Chris, okay.”

  Michael stopped pacing back and forth behind the sofa and glared at me. “Chris?” he asked with a look of disgust. “Chris, my stock broker?”

  “No, Chris King.”

  He stared at me incredulously. “Chris King? As in high school Chris King? The convicted felon?” His jaw muscle pulsed as he gritted his teeth.

  “Yeah.” Ashamed of myself, I lowered my eyes to avoid his menacing glare.

  “When? How?” His breaths came hard and fast between words. He seemed on the verge of hyperventilation while he tried his best to contain his rage.

  “While I was at the beach,” I squeaked.

  “Jesus Christ, Kaitlyn! What the hell? Please tell me you are fucking kidding me!”

  “I wish I could.” I trembled with fear. I knew I was safe because Michael would never do anything to hurt me no matter how angry he was, especially with Eli asleep just upstairs, but my nerves were still on edge.

  “I can’t fucking believe this.” Michael’s eyes welled up with tears. “Oh god, I just can’t believe you did this to me.” He stared at me in disbelief, with tears dripping down his cheeks and his lip quivering. The pain in his eyes was almost too much to bear.

  “I’m sorry, Michael. Please forgive me. I’m so, so sorry.” Reaching out to him, I continued, “I wish I could take it back, but I—”

  “No!” Michael threw his hands up in the air, and took a step back. “Don’t touch me. Just don’t fucking touch me.”

  He whirled around and stomped into the kitchen, grabbing his truck keys off the hook by the door.

  I followed him into the foyer where he stood in the open doorway leading out to the front porch. “Please don’t leave! Stay here. Please, let’s talk about this.”

  He turned his head to glare at me. “I have nothing to say to you.” With that statement, he slammed the door in my face.

  His truck roared to life, and the tires squealed their way out of the driveway.

  I fell into my bed a blubbery mess. If it weren’t for the sweet little boy sleeping three doors down and the tiny life growing inside me, I would have considered tossing a whole bottle of Valium down my throat. “Get over yourself,” I chided. “Put your big girl panties on and deal with this!”

  It was three in the morning when Michael finally came home. I was still lying in bed, my eyes swollen from crying for hours. I heard him rummaging around in the kitchen and pacing around in the living room. Eventually, he made it to our bedroom. He plopped down on the edge of the bed and sighed. I didn’t ask him where he had been. I didn’t say a word. I just lay there, hoping he would speak first.

  “Kaitlyn?”

  “Hmmm,” I answered.

  “Just wanted to see if you were still awake.”

  “I am. I—”

  “Shhhh,” he interrupted. “Just let me speak. Just let me get this out. I’m not here for you right now. I came back because we have a son who needs us to be us. I’m not angry, I’m hurt,” he whispered in the darkness. “I can’t believe that the woman I love more than anything would betray me like this. I’m back, but I’m not back because of you. This isn’t about you at all right now. This is about Eli. I’m so hurt and shattered beyond words. Just please, don’t speak to me right now.”

  I didn’t say anything. Fear gripped my throat, threatening me not to make a sound. He wasn’t back for me. But he was back. That was one step in the right direction. Right?

  Silent tears bid me goodnight as I finally drifted off into oblivion.

  It felt like only minutes had passed before I was awakened by the sound of dishes clanking in the kitchen. Apparently, Michael had already gotten up to cook eggs for Eli. I ambled into the kitchen with swollen and puffy eyes.

  “Good morning, Mommy,” Eli said happily as he shoveled scrambled eggs into his mouth.

  I tried not to gag. “Good morning, honey,” I said as I kissed the top of his head.

  Michael threw a sidelong glance, but didn’t speak.

  I looked at Michael who was standing near the stove. “Thanks for cooking for him. It helped keep my morning sickness at bay a little while longer.”

  “Humph,” Michael grunted at me. I didn’t blame him. I guess if I were in his shoes I wouldn’t want to speak to me either. He chucked the frying pan into the sink and stomped off to the living room.

  Completely oblivious, Eli blew bubbles into his orange juice through his straw. “Look, Mommy,” he laughed.

  “You’re so silly.” I didn’t have the energy to correct him or tell him it was rude to do that at the table. I sighed, poured my coffee, and plopped down in the chair beside him while he finished cramming eggs into his mouth like he was trying to win an egg eating contest.

  “Slow down, Eli. You’re going to make yourself sick—or me.”

  “I’m just trying to finish so you don’t have to look at them or smell them anymore, and maybe you won’t throw up today.”

  My precious little angel…the only reason I have to be here right now.

  “You’re so sweet. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. I’m all done,” he said proudly. He chucked his plate into the sink just like his daddy and ran upstairs to play his video game system.

  I sat in peace, sipping my coffee and wondering how to act around Michael.

  I was washing the dishes when Michael walked into the kitchen. “I’m leaving,” he announced.

  “For work?”

  “No. I’m leaving for a few days. I need to get my head straight.”

  “Please don’t leave,” I begged. “Let’s work through this. It was a mistake, Michael. A stupid, stupid mistake. I don’t want my mistake to break up Eli’s happy family.”

  Michael stared at me for a few seconds, as if to consider my offer. He finally piped up. “Tell Eli I’m going on a business trip for a while.”

  “No, Michael. Please don’t go.”

  He scowled at me angrily, but the pain in his eyes projected a different emotio
n. “I’m not sure when I’ll be back.”

  Tears rolled down my cheeks. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

  “Don’t.” Michael snapped. He grabbed his suitcase and walked toward the stairs. “Eli,” he shouted, “I’m leaving for work!”

  “Okay, Daddy!” Eli replied. I heard him bouncing down the stairs. Giving Michael a big hug and seeing his suitcase beside them on the floor, he asked, “Where are you going?”

  Michael’s eyes welled up with tears, but he didn’t let them fall. “I’m going on a business trip.”

  Eli’s face fell. “When will you be back?”

  “I don’t know,” Michael shook his head, “but I’ll call you every day.”

  Eli nodded. “Okay, Daddy.”

  “I love you very much, son.”

  “I love you too, Daddy.”

  Michael gave him one last squeeze before grabbing his suitcase and heading for the door. Just before stepping out into the garage, he gave me a final look—a morose and dejected look—that held my gaze a few seconds before he gently shook his head in disbelief and closed the door behind him.

  Tears exploded from my eyes and sobs heaved in my chest.

  “Don’t cry, Mommy. He’ll be back,” Eli tried to console me.

  Get a grip, Kaitlyn.

  “I know, baby. Mommy’s okay,” I said, wiping tears on my sleeve and taking deep, controlled breaths to contain my sobs.

  I called Shannon that afternoon to tell her the news. “He’s gone, Shannon. He packed his bags and left.”

  “Where did he go?”

  “He didn’t say. I don’t think he’d go to his parents’ house because he wouldn’t want them to know anything was going on. He just left and said he didn’t know when he’d be back.”

  “Maybe he just needs time to process everything. It’s a lot to have to soak in.”

  “I know. I deserve it. He’s been nothing but good to me, and I had to go and ruin everything. I mean, I know our marriage isn’t perfect, but I didn’t have to go and screw things up like I did. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  “People make mistakes, Kaitlyn. No one is perfect. At least you owned up to your mistakes. Just give him time. Let him think things over.”

  “Okay, I will. Thanks, Shannon. Thank you for not judging me. I know what I did was stupid. I just got caught up in the moment. My heart and my head were having a screaming match with each other, and I let my stupid heart win.”

  “I think your marriage was crumbling, and you were vulnerable. You let someone creep into your life at your weakest point. This kind of thing happens every day—that’s part of the reason why they say fifty percent of marriages end in divorce. Give yourself some time to heal. Maybe when Michael comes back, you can focus on giving your heart back to him. Fight through this. It will be worth it, I promise.” I didn’t pry, but she spoke as if she had some experience in the matter.

  “Okay, I will,” I promised, my lip quivering with suppressed tears.

  Three long, grueling weeks passed. As promised, Michael called Eli every day, and every day Eli begged him to come home. “Not yet,” was always his answer.

  Alone. It was a word I had learned to accept in the weeks since Michael left for his ‘business trip.’ Alone wasn’t something I had ever considered until the first night I spent in our bed after he left. The house seemed eerily quiet, even with Eli just down the hall. Eli must have thought so too because he ended up in my bed most nights. My morning sickness had finally subsided, but my depression seeped its way into my everyday life. Daily activities were such a drain on my energy; I barely functioned most days. However, I knew I had to be strong for my son. My attitude affected his little life. I never knew how strong I was until my husband left me. I never realized how good I had it until the day my life, as I knew it, had been ripped away from me.

  I tossed and turned in bed one night, trying to get some sleep, with no success.

  Suddenly, my phone buzzed beside me on the bed stand. Eagerly, I grabbed it, praying it would be a text from Michael:

  Thank God!

  I anxiously awaited his arrival. Around midnight I heard his key turn the lock, and he tiptoed into the kitchen. He made his way up the stairs and stood at our bedroom door.

  “I’m awake,” I whispered in the darkness.

  “Okay,” he whispered back.

  “I’m glad you’re home. I’ve missed you.”

  I heard an audible sigh.

  From the sound of it, I assumed the worst and asked, “Or, did you just come home to get more of your stuff?” I sat up, hugged my knees, and wrapped the blankets under my chin.

  Michael plopped down on the bed. “I’m not here to get more stuff.”

  I released a grateful sigh of relief and lay back down on the bed. Michael kicked off his shoes and laid down beside me.

  “Michael—”

  “Please, Kaitlyn. Just hear me out.” He sounded tired, destitute even.

  “Okay.”

  “In some ways, I can’t blame you. I know I haven’t been the kind of husband you’ve needed me to be.”

  “Don’t blame yourself, Michael. It’s not your fault.”

  “I’m not blaming myself. I’m just trying to comprehend and justify why you would do this. I know you loved him. I knew the night I met you at the dance who held the key to your heart. I just thought I could love you enough to forget him. Now I see that I was wrong. I’m hurt beyond belief that the only woman I have ever loved has broken our vows, given her heart to someone else, and shattered mine.”

  My eyes were brimming, but I didn’t speak. What could I have possibly said in that moment? No words, no apology, and no act of valor could erase the damage I had done.

  “I forgive you,” Michael whispered.

  What? I stared at him incredulously, although in the darkness I knew he couldn’t see my face.

  “I took my vows seriously when I promised ‘for better, for worse, until death do us part.’ It’s taken me a while to get my head straight, but I have forgiven you. Now, I just have to try my best to forget.”

  I sat in silence, unsure how to process what he had just told me. He’s not kicking me out? He’s not sending me packing? He’s not threatening to divorce me? I don’t deserve this man—this good, faithful, loyal, and amazing man.

  Ever so slowly, I reached across the bed and found his hand in the darkness. The warmth of his hand that enveloped mine felt like a sonic boom to my heart, reigniting a passion between us that had long since burned out.

  “We’ll get through this,” I spoke softly.

  Michael pulled me close and wrapped me in his arms. “I love you,” he whispered, “more than you will ever know. You cut me deeper than you will ever realize, but I am willing to fight for us. I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to lose the family bond we have created with Eli. This family means everything to me. I am willing to fight to save it. The tiny life growing inside of you, it didn’t ask for this—to be born into a broken home. If need be, when we’re ready, we can take a DNA test. If it proves I’m not the biological father, then we can determine the right time to discuss the truth with the child. But, I will love this baby, no matter what.”

  Michael was my best friend. He was the one I’d stood at the altar with and vowed to love, honor, and cherish for life. He was the father of my child. I trusted him and depended on him. He was safe—my shelter from the storm. He was everything I needed, and nothing I deserved.

  “Michael, there’s nothing I can say to fix this. There’s nothing I can do to make up for what I’ve done. I never wanted to hurt you. I was selfish. I’m sorry. Those words seem so empty right now, but please understand that I mean them from the deepest part of my soul. I’m so, so sorry.”

  Silent tears slid down both our faces as we held each other close, and fell asleep in each other’s arms.

  My overly sensitive gag reflex jarred me from my semi-lucid state. I sat up quickly, clamping my hand across my mouth. Oh no! I thou
ght this morning sickness stuff was over! I barely made it to the bathroom in time. Hugging the toilet as if it were my life raft in an angry sea, my traitorous stomach heaved violently into the cold porcelain bowl. I wasn’t sure if it was a virus, morning sickness, or my body purging itself of the torturous guilt I’d harbored for four months, but I prayed hard it would end soon. In my weakest moment, just when I thought all my energy had been spent and my rebellious stomach had won the battle, I felt my hair being lifted from around my face.

  Michael stood behind me, holding my hair, “It’s okay,” he consoled me. “It’s okay.”

  I collapsed onto the cool tile floor, draping myself across the rim of the toilet seat, overcome with defeat, crying tears of utter exhaustion. Michael continued to hold my hair back and began rubbing his hand across my back in an effort to soothe me.

  “You’re going to get through this. We’re going to get through this, together,” he reassured me.

  “I don’t deserve this,” I cried into the crook of my arm. “I don’t deserve you being this nice to me.”

  Michael ran his fingers through my hair. “We’re in this together, Kaitlyn. I’m not giving up. We all make mistakes. I’m not perfect. You’re not perfect. I don’t know what happened between us to make you run into the arms of another man, but I’m going to make damn sure you’re never tempted again. Things are going to change, starting right now.”

  With that, he pulled me up from the floor and held me against his chest. Surrendering myself to his embrace, I nuzzled into the softness of his shirt, breathing his familiar scent that translated to home in my mind.

  “I love you, Kaitlyn.”

  “I love you, too, Michael…more than I ever realized.”

  He tensed his jaw in an effort to control his quivering lip. His voice cracked as he spoke, “We’re a family. Families stick together no matter what, through thick and thin. We are going to come out stronger after this—just you wait.”

  We heard a soft knock at the door. “Daddy? Is that you?”