Dear Agony

by Georgia Cates

  Disconnect. It’s the only way to do it. But I’m starting out on the wrong foot if I’m going to successfully detach myself from Rose’s pregnancy.

  I was standing outside her exam room when they did the ultrasound. I listened to everything. I shouldn’t have. It’s just another way of becoming attached to this baby. But as badly as I wanted to, I couldn’t make my feet move to carry me away.

  I was terrified when they couldn’t find the baby’s heartbeat. I prayed to God for our child’s safety. Offered my life in place of this tiny being’s. And a moment later, the loud beating sound of his heart filled the room. I can’t recall ever being more thankful for anything in my life.

  It would be so easy to put my prognosis out of my mind and live only for today. But time marches on, and my future will one day become my present.

  I’m certain it’ll be less painful to end this now, before it begins.

  “I want to stay with Rose. If she’ll let me.” Right now, I’m not sure she’ll lower her protective wall and let me in again.

  ***

  Rose is asleep when I return to her exam room. I’m glad. I need a minute to decompress about being here.

  Even in Rose’s sleep, she protectively holds her stomach. This baby is going to be blessed with a wonderful mother. I hope it’s enough to make up for its shitty father.

  I rest my head against the wall and close my eyes. The last four days have been exhausting for me as well. Despite our impasse, I haven’t left Rose’s side. If she didn’t sleep, then neither did I.

  The next time I open my eyes, Rose is awake and looking at me. “I didn’t expect you to come back.”

  Me either. “Everything okay?”

  She nods. “Yeah.”

  “Feel better?”

  “As far as the nausea goes, yeah. But everything else . . .” She shrugs and shakes her head.

  “You really worried me.” I adjust in my chair and notice the ache in my lower back. I must have slept a while to have become so stiff.

  I look at Rose’s IV bag and see that the level of fluid has lowered considerably. “You have to get two more of those after that one is empty?”

  “I think so. The nurse told me they were going to move me out of this observation area and into a regular patient room soon.”

  “You’re being admitted to the hospital?” That sounds serious.

  “Yeah. It takes eight hours for one of those bags to go in. She said we’d be more comfortable in a real room. It has a pullout bed for Vale, so she doesn’t have to sit in a chair all night.”

  “I’m staying with you. I sent Vale home while you were asleep. She’ll be back to check on you in the morning.”

  The expression on Rose’s face isn’t a happy one. And despite the fact that I’ve been a jackass, it stings. I thought—and maybe hoped—she’d be pleased I was staying.

  “I was planning to talk to her tonight. I need to sort out some kind of plan for my future with the baby.”

  “What do you mean? And what does Vale have to do with it?”

  “You want no contact with the baby and me. Obviously, that means I have to move out of the house.”

  Rose has been a part of my everyday life for fifteen months. We haven’t spent a single day apart. The thought of her leaving guts me. Rips me into two pieces.

  “I’ve saved my monthly allowance and salary at PPI. It’s plenty for us to live on for a while but it won’t last forever. I was planning to speak with Vale tonight about letting me come back to work for her at Duets, at least until I start to show.”

  Rose is my companion. She isn’t going back into that environment. “You can forget that entire plan.”

  “I have to earn a living.”

  “You are my companion. Mine. Our situation doesn’t change that. And now you’re the mother of my child, regardless of the status of our relationship. I won’t let you be in that world again.”

  “I have to find somewhere else to live. That’s going to take money. If I don’t have income coming in, I will blow through my savings in six months. Maybe eight if I’m careful. I have a baby on the way. I have to be smart about this, Bash.”

  I won’t allow her to be in contact with the clients of Duets. “I told you I’d take care of you and the baby. You’ll remain at the house until we figure out what we’re doing.”

  “I’m going to stay at the house, sleep across the hall from you, and you’re going to ignore me as though I’m not there? No thank you.”

  “You’re staying. End of discussion.”

  ***

  Time is marching on. This pregnancy is progressing. I’m watching it happen right before my eyes.

  I remain in a state of mourning. Rose is gone from my room. Her things no longer litter the bathroom vanity. She’s gone from my bed . . . and so is her scent. Her pillow doesn’t even hold her fragrance anymore.

  The days since Rose told me she was pregnant—all forty-something of them–have been painfully slow. Wash. Rinse. Repeat.

  I miss her.

  She’s twelve weeks pregnant. Entering the second trimester. A third of the pregnancy is behind her. She isn’t showing yet, which makes it easy to ignore the baby growing inside her, so I simply put it out of my mind. Turn off my emotional switch. But it won’t be long until the baby is big enough that I have no choice but to watch it growing inside her. That’s when this is going to feel real. And I have no idea how I’m going to handle that.

  The house is dark when I enter. And quiet. Too quiet. “Rose?”

  No answer. I call out for her again and still no reply. I don’t like it.

  I do a quick walkthrough of the first floor and find no sign of her. She must be in her room. After all, that’s where she goes to avoid me when we’re both in the house.

  I go upstairs and tap on her bedroom door, although it’s standing wide open and the lights are off. “Rose?”

  Still no response.

  She’s gone.

  My heart immediately pounds harder and faster. Has she left me?

  I don’t suppose I could blame her if she has. Our relationship is rocky to say the least. No, rocky is giving it too much credit. It’s mostly nonexistent.

  We’re civil and courteous and cordial. Just one ghost living with another in this house. That’s about the extent of our contact. And it hurts so much.

  Rose is right here in the same house but I couldn’t miss her more if she were thousands of miles away.

  I open her closet door and breathe a sigh of relief when I find all of her things still in place. But it’s almost ten o’clock on Friday night. She left PPI at five. Where is she? Who could she possibly be with?

  And then a thought hits me. We’ve been estranged for a while. She may have met someone else. She could be with him now.

  I see red when I imagine her with another man. On his arm. Laughing at his jokes. Smiling at him as though there’s no other place she’d rather be.

  All of this while she has my baby in her belly.

  I’m so angry it’s a wonder I’m even able to type out the message before I hit send.

  Where are you?

  I probably don’t deserve a reply from her. And I guess she must think so too since an hour passes and I get nothing from her.

  Surely I can call Vale and find out who she’s with. She’s carrying my child. I think I’m entitled to know they’re both safe.

  Does being the father of her baby give me that right?

  Vale’s phone goes straight to voicemail. Probably with her senator boyfriend. I heard he was in town this week.

  I was too ashamed to leave Vale a message asking about Rose’s whereabouts the first three times I called but now I’m reaching a state of panic. “I need you to call me. I can’t find Rose. I’m worried.”

  I end the call and hear the garage door lifting. Thank God.

  I wait for Rose on the sofa, pulling myself together so I don’t rush into the kitchen and pull her into my arms when she enters the house. Hell, I
don’t even have that right anymore.

  I don’t glance up when she comes into the living room. I can’t let her see the worry in my expression. “Where the hell have you been?”

  “Not so loud, Bash.”

  I look up and see her holding a little sleeping red-haired baby over her shoulder. And I’m too stunned to say a word.

  “Genevieve and Xavier are sick. Sounds like food poisoning but they’re too ill to take care of Gavin. He’s staying with me until they’re over whatever it is they have.”

  “You were gone for hours.”

  “I had to go to the market and pharmacy for them.”

  “You didn’t answer my text.” I wonder if she did that on purpose. To make me panic.

  “You know me. I don’t check my phone all the time.” That much is true. And I’ve never had to be concerned about it before. We were always together.

  “I was worried.”

  “I’m sorry you were worried but we’re fine.” We’re fine. She never misses an opportunity to remind me it isn’t just her anymore.

  She moves toward the staircase, ending the discussion. “I think I should shower in case whatever Genevieve and Xavier have is contagious. I do not want to get sick again. Will you watch Gavin while I’m in the bathroom?”

  A sleeping baby. I should be able to handle that much. “Sure.”

  Rose puts Gavin in the middle of her bed. She pats his back and shushes him when he whines. “Shh. It’s okay, Gav. Go back to sleep.”

  He fusses and Rose pets him while humming until be dozes off again. “How do you know to do that?”

  She shrugs. “I don’t know. Just feels like the right thing to do.”

  “A mother’s instinct?”

  “Maybe.” She slides to the edge of the bed when Gavin quietens. “I’ll be quick.”

  “It’s okay. He’s asleep. You don’t have to rush.”

  Rose goes into her bathroom and closes the door—shutting me out. There was a time when she’d leave it open as an invitation to join her. But not anymore.

  I picture how she looks with soapy shampoo in her hair. Suds flowing down her naked body. Her hands moving in her hair making her breasts bounce. Her much more voluptuous breasts. They’re already growing. I haven’t touched them in six weeks but I see the change happening beneath her clothes. She’s more beautiful than ever, despite the absence of the twinkle she once had in her eyes.

  I kick out of my shoes and sit on the side of the bed where I used to sleep when I’d come into Rose’s room. I take off my button-down and tie and lie on my old place in Rose’s bed.

  Gavin frets a bit and I rub his back the way Rose did. And there it is—the instinct to soothe him—and he’s not even mine. There’s zero doubt in my mind. One look at our child and I’ll be a goner.

  It can’t happen.

  Rose comes out of the bathroom wearing a cami and shorts, hair still wet. So damn beautiful. I’ve missed seeing her fresh from the shower. Gone is the sexy lingerie from Alexis. Gone is the light in her eyes when she sees me.

  “Oh, good. He’s still asleep. I was afraid he’d wake while I was showering.”

  “We’re fine.”

  She flips her head over to towel dry her hair, giving me a view straight down the front of her top. Her breasts are definitely growing. Damn.

  “I hate asking you this but will you stay? I’m really nervous about him rolling off the bed. I would feel horrible if he got hurt while he was in my care.”

  I don’t even have to think about it. “I can do that.”

  “I’ll get his Pack ’n Play tomorrow if he has to stay another night.”

  “It’s fine. I don’t mind staying.”

  She needs me and I don’t mind helping with Gavin. I want to be in this bed with her again, even if someone else’s baby is between us. God, I’ve missed sleeping with Rose. “Give me a sec to change out of my work clothes.”

  Climbing into her bed feels like the old days—back before we became so complicated. She didn’t know I was sick. I didn’t know I was falling in love with her. And we hadn’t made a baby. Our most difficult decision was deciding what to have for dinner.

  She takes one last look at Gavin and turns off the lamp. And I’m amazed by how even the smallest sound—like breathing—seems so much louder in the dark.

  “I see my OB-GYN on Monday. I think they’ll do another ultrasound. Will you go to the appointment with me?”

  I want to so badly. But I can’t let her know that. It isn’t fair. “No.”

  She inhales deeply and then exhales. “Okay.” Her voice is so soft—flat—I barely hear it.

  I want to apologize. Tell her how sorry I am she’s going to go through this alone. Let her know that my heart breaks every time I let her down. Show her that hurting her, hurts me.

  But instead, I say nothing. Bringing her one step closer to hating me.

  She should hate me. Despising me will make all of this a lot easier. God knows I already hate myself.

  ***

  “Bastien?”

  I look up from the photographs of my next potential listing and see Rose standing in the doorway. “Yes?”

  She steps into my office and sees I’m not alone. “Oh, sorry. Helen wasn’t at her desk. I didn’t know you were with someone.”

  “Not . . . a . . . problem, sweetheart,” my newest client, Victor Melton, says as his eyes explore her from head to toe.

  “What do you need?”

  She holds up what looks like a contract. “Just your signature on these papers but I can come back later. It’s not urgent.”

  “It’s okay, sweetheart. Bring those papers on in here for your boss to sign.”

  I give Rose a nod and Victor Melton’s eyes follow her every step as she crosses the room.

  I’ve always liked her wearing those mile-high heels at work but not in this moment. I hate the way he’s watching her like he’s some kind of predator and she is his prey.

  Rose stands so close I can smell her fruit and floral fragrance—peach and cherry blossoms. She has a fresh, clean scent. Never overpowering. Always perfect. And, damn, I’ve missed it.

  “Four places.” I’ve signed this same contract hundreds of times but I feign a search for all the lines requiring my signature. I want to hold her in close vicinity for as long as possible. It’s been too long since her scent has invaded my senses.

  She leans over me and points to the last page. “Also initial here.”

  I lift my head and our faces are so close I could lean over and kiss her. And I might consider it if Victor Melton wasn’t in here. “That’s it?”

  “For now. I’m leaving at one. Do you need anything done before I go?”

  She has an appointment with her OB-GYN. They’re doing another ultrasound. She should find out the baby’s gender today. And I won’t be with her.

  Not that she didn’t ask me to be. I guess she still holds out hope that one day I’ll give in and say yes. She has no idea how much I want to do that.

  “Can’t think of anything right now.”

  Victor Melton isn’t the only one watching her walk out the door.

  Rose and I haven’t had a conversation about announcing her pregnancy to my employees at PPI. I haven’t told anyone. I suspect Rose hasn’t either since no one has mentioned a word about the baby. But they’ve also not mentioned anything about when she moved out of my office and into hers.

  I’m certain everyone at the firm knows Rose and I are having relationship problems. Including Wendy. But even she hasn’t mentioned a word about it.

  Her pregnancy won’t remain concealed for much longer. A week tops. She’s approaching the halfway mark. Her loose, long tops disguise it but her belly is growing. I steal glances at it when she isn’t looking and it’s easy to see Rose is blooming. I’m sure some people already suspect.

  “That is one hot little number you have working for you. Who is she?” I’ve had about enough of Victor Melton, client or not.

 
“My girlfriend. Also the mother of my child.” That should shut him up.

  I cut off any further talk about Rose by moving back to the contract we were discussing. But it doesn’t distract me from thinking about her and the joy she’ll be experiencing without me this afternoon. At least Vale will be there with her so she isn’t alone.

  Five o’clock approaches and I’m unable to make myself stay at the office another minute. I know it’s not wise—and definitely not part of my plan to stay detached—but I’m dying to hear her tell me if it’s a boy or girl.

  I know the second I enter the house that Rose has started dinner. Seafood, definitely. Shrimp, maybe? “Something smells delicious.”

  She doesn’t even turn to look at me. “Shrimp étouffée.”

  “One of my favorites.”

  “Why are you here?” Her voice is deadpan, just as it is so much of the time now.

  I haven’t come home this early in weeks, and I can’t recall the last time we sat down and ate together. No doubt she’s wondering why I’m here.

  “Was a little tired.” Not a lie but it isn’t the reason I didn’t stay late at the office.

  “You should be tired. You work too many hours.”

  “Always a ton of work to be done.” She knows I’m using that as an excuse.

  “Which is why you pay your many employees well. They should be taking care of the workload. Your job is to slow down and take care of your body. You shouldn’t mistreat it.”

  She isn’t wrong. I’m pushing my body to a limit it no longer tolerates. My tremors are worsening, and I’m developing a twitch in my left shoulder. But my real wakeup call was when I fell while getting out of bed earlier this week. I think I’ll be forced to tell my employees soon. Better to do that before I take a tumble at work.

  “I’m aware I’m doing too much.”

  “And yet you do it anyway. You’re wrong if you think I don’t know you stay late at work every night to avoid seeing me. I don’t want you putting your health at risk when I can make this so much easier by leaving.”

  “No.” I’m not ready for her to go.

  “Bash, what we’re doing doesn’t make sense.”