[2016] A Widow's Love

by Christian Michael

  He pressed his hand over his eyes. The summer heat sank into his flesh, and his heart thumped a little faster and a little harder. The idea of being trapped—having nowhere to escape, no options to consider—it constricted his throat a little, and a wheeze of a breath crawled out of his mouth.

  He was going to be a father. Him. God, he was going to be terrible at it. That poor child. If Duncan had a little more time to prepare—more than nine months—then maybe he could have been okay at it. Maybe. He shook his head, his thoughts running in circles and taunting him.

  The front door opened again, making Duncan jump and turn around. Elle was already sitting next to him again, and she was handing him a new glass of ice-cold lemonade.

  “You finished your other one in quite a hurry,” she said. She gave him a knowing, gentle smile. “I thought you might like another one.”

  Duncan, speechless, lowered the empty glass by his feet before taking the new one and drinking from it. The coolness did seem to untighten some of his guts, and he calmed somewhat.

  Fiddling with her hands, Elle released a breath and glanced at her feet. “I’m sorry.”

  Startled, Duncan nearly choked on his drink. Swallowing down his last gulp, he loudly cleared his throat and turned to her.

  She was trying not to laugh at him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I think I should have waited to tell you. Let us be married for a while. I understand that this news is shocking. Maybe even overwhelming.”

  “No,” he blurted, because that didn’t sound right. He didn’t admit to himself that he would have preferred her waiting at least a couple of weeks before telling him about the unborn baby; he didn’t want to be that big of an asshole. “No, we…there should be no secrets between us.” Ice of the uncomfortable kind encircled his heart, bitterness taunting him within seconds. He rubbed at the sudden discomfort in his chest. “I’m glad you told me.”

  “Really?” she asked, her voice squeaking a little, “Because I mean, I was shocked, too, when I first realized I was…” She shrugged and glanced away, a distant look in her eyes. “Everyone expects you to be so overjoyed by such news, but in reality, there is a huge weight that comes with it. It can be scary.” She looked back at him and frowned. “I’m sorry I wasn’t more sensitive about it. I should have given you more time rather than tell you so hurriedly like I just did. I guess I wanted to get it ov…I wanted to tell you. Because there should be any secrets between us—absolutely none.” Sweat coated her brow, and she wiped it away in a rushed manner.

  Duncan swallowed thickly, guilt settling in his gut. “It’s not what you think,” he said. With reluctance, he felt as if he had to physically push out the following words from his mouth. “I wasn’t…I’m not a very good man. My family doesn’t like me, and I’m worried that I won’t do right by…by our child.” The words made him breathless and dizzy. He shook his head in an attempt to clear it. “I’ve never treated any kind of responsibility in the right way. How can I raise a child?”

  Elle’s grip on his shoulder tightened. “You are a good man,” she said strongly. “You are a good husband. Don’t you ever concern yourself about that.”

  It was so tempting to believe her, but she didn’t know the whole story. And he was determined to never let her know, so he nodded and said nothing more.

  He stiffened again when he felt her lips against his neck, his jaw—moving their way to his cheek. His entire body flushed, and he turned toward her before he could even think of doing so. She pressed her lips against his then, and he all but molded against her. The actions were so gentle and so affectionate that it warmed his heart.

  “I mean it,” she breathed against his lips. “I am very blessed to have met you, Duncan Aster. You are a good man. And you will be a good father. I know it. Trust me.”

  Duncan blinked harder, willing his watering eyes to get dry—or, at least, not as moist. He had to remind himself once again that she didn’t know the whole story—that she didn’t truly know him—but despite that, she still made him feel redeemed. Wanted. Good.

  “Okay?” she asked, her tone challenging and her eyes gleaming with stubborn determination.

  Duncan couldn’t stop himself from nodding. “Okay.”

  ***

  Elle never asked where Duncan got all of his money, and he never told her. In truth, she didn’t really care, so long as he was able to provide for them. And he was. He went out shopping with her, he helped her clean the house—he did a lot of things with her over the next couple of months, things that men didn’t typically do—at least, men that Elle had known. Elle had never met a man as helpful and considerate as Duncan. Back home, everyone was so overworked and busy that they didn’t have time for one another.

  After she finished washing all of the dishes, she leaned back against the wall and watched as Duncan dried each dish and put them in one of the cupboards. His shirt was rolled up to his elbows, which left his tan forearms exposed.

  Elle licked her lips, heat tingling through her blood. Her hands lowered to her swollen belly and she drummed her fingers over it. Though the morning sickness and rapid increase in weight hadn’t been fun, the growing amount of lust was tantalizing. Sometimes, all she had to do was look at Duncan, and she would want him. He never had to do anything either. He could be covered in several layers of unflattering clothing, and she was convinced that she would still want him. His big, strong hands on her, his flushed lips kissing her—

  “I think you should go see a doctor,” Duncan said.

  Elle jumped a little, his words tearing her from her thoughts. As she stared back at him, she realized he had finished putting the dishes away moments ago, and he was now looking at her with tension in his shoulders.

  “Why?” she asked. “I feel fine.”

  “Good, good. That’s good.” He scratched the back of his neck, his gaze lowering to her stomach. “I just…I want to make sure that you are fine. I want to make sure that everything is…normal with the baby.”

  She gave him a sympathetic smile. “Darling, there’s not much the doctor can do right now.”

  Duncan was still staring at her stomach, fear in his expression.

  Elle frowned, her concern growing. “Duncan, what is it? Really?”

  He blew out a haggard breath. When he looked back up at her, he was wincing. “Don’t get mad, alright? But when I was little, I remember my ma being pregnant with my baby brother, and she didn’t…grow as fast as you are. I’m worried that there…” He rubbed at his face.

  Perplexed, Elle blinked at him for several seconds. It wasn’t until he glanced down at her stomach again did it all click for her, and she went cold. Her fingers froze over her stomach and her eyes widened.

  He thought she was only two months pregnant when in fact she was probably five months pregnant…maybe six. She was a lot bigger than what he was probably expecting.

  Elle nearly swore, panic bursting through her. She hadn’t thought this through—hadn’t done the math. God, what Duncan must be thinking right now.

  She had to force herself to breathe, her fear overwhelming her. Not knowing what to say or do, she remained frozen there. Like prey facing its predator, she waited to see what the outcome of her fate would be.

  Clearly nervous, Duncan scratched at his neck again. “I’m…I don’t think it’s bad, necessarily, but I just…what if it’s twins?”

  Elle’s eyebrows shot up. “What?”

  “Or triplets. We only have two bedrooms in this house, Elle. And the money…it’s only going to last another year, and that’s just to support the two of us.” He ran his hands through his hair, his eyes wide and moist. “How are we going to take care of three infants at once? What jobs are out here for a man like me?”

  Elle was so relieved, she nearly laughed. “Oh, honey, I don’t think it’s twins. Twins don’t run in my family. Do they run in yours?”

  The corner of Duncan’s lips quirked downward. “Well, no.”

  “We’ll be fine,” she said
. “We’ll figure things out. Don’t stress out too much, okay? I know the anticipation claws at your nerves, but we can’t really do much until I have the baby.”

  Duncan sighed, his shoulders sagging as if weariness was pushing down against them. He licked his lips and, with obvious reluctance, he nodded at her words.

  Looking at him, Elle no longer felt so relieved. She hadn’t lied to him all those months ago when she said he was a good husband—he was. He was so sweet and kind, and he took care of her and her unborn child. And he made life fun. It wasn’t always just about work and survival—he wanted to make every moment enjoyable. He joked around with her when they went into town to get food and supplies; he made a game of it when they did chores around the house; he made everything better. He deserved the truth.

  “Duncan,” she said shakily, anxiety jittering through her flesh. She pressed her lips together and tried to summon some courage, all the while she tapping her fingers over her belly again. “I…I do have something to tell you about—” Her stomach bounced beneath her touch, making her yelp with surprise.

  Duncan was right in front of her within seconds, grabbing her shoulders. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  Elle laughed, more startled than anything else. She placed her hand over her stomach and felt it bounce again. “The baby’s kicking. Here,” She grabbed Duncan’s hand and placed it over her stomach. “Feel it?”

  She watched Duncan’s face intently. When she felt her stomach bounce yet again, Duncan’s eyes widened. She couldn’t help but laugh again.

  “He’s a tough one,” she said warmly, staring down at their hands. “Or she.”

  They stayed like that for a quiet moment, feeling the baby kick her stomach. Elle thought they were sharing a loving experience, but if she had glanced up at his face at least once, she would have known how wrong she had been.

  “This isn’t my child, is it?” Duncan whispered, choking on the words.

  Elle’s gaze snapped up to his. He was glaring at her, his eyes glazed. His expression pierced her heart, and she could only open and close her mouth for a few seconds. Eventually, she managed to say, “What? What are you talking about?”

  “It’s too big,” he said, removing his hand and backing away. As accusatory as he sounded, his expression conveyed a lot of questions and doubt.

  She probably could lie to him in this moment, and she might get him to believe it. But the mere thought of doing that crumpled her resolve. She didn’t want to lie to him. Once again, she mustered up all the courage she could and kept her eye-contact with him. “You’re right. I…” She carefully thought about her next words, his devastated look shredding her heart. “Before my first husband died, he and I…this is his child.”

  Duncan’s jaw tensed and quivered, rage and hurt and grief gleaming in his eyes. He looked like he was going to shout at her, but instead, he shook his head and glowered at the floor. “Was he even cold when you mailed your first letter?”

  Elle felt as if her very soul reeled at that, the pain those words cause searing. Duncan didn’t know of the nightmares she had—of the flashes of guilt she sometimes felt when they were in bed together. Quivering with her own grievous anger, she said, “I was alone. I needed help. You needed a wife. I don’t see why this changes anything.” She wanted to say so much more—horrible, cruel things, but she was rational enough to hold that all back.

  Duncan looked back up at her with absolute disgust. “You lied to me. You used me.” He waved his hand toward her lower half. “You brought me another mouth to feed and another person to take care of. Of course this changes things. You got pregnant, he died, and then the first thing you do is send me a letter? Getting me to propose to you? You couldn’t even tell me about your…” He glared at her stomach. “I have to think about more than just you now.”

  “Like that wasn’t going to happen, anyway,” she snapped. Her fingers tensed and clawed into the skin over her stomach. “The way you and I have been going at it these past several weeks.”

  His face reddened. “Well, let me ask you then. All those times we were together, were you thinking about him?”

  “Duncan, don’t—”

  “Every time I held you, touched you—were you imagining it was your dead husband? Am I nothing but a convenient replacement for you?”

  “Stop it.” Elle swallowed, trying to conquer the sob that was crawling up her throat. “That’s not fair.”

  “Not fair?!” He barked out a laugh. “Don’t talk to me about being fair. I married you without knowing the full situation, and now I’m stuck competing with a ghost for the rest of my life while I raise his child. None of this is fair. I thought you were falling in—” He clamped his mouth shut, his eyes blazing. “You lied to me. And now I’m trapped with all of this.”

  This time, Elle couldn’t fight against the sob that overcame her. Tears pouring from her eyes, her blood feeling hot and heavy in her veins, she shook her head. “Who says you are trapped with me? If you want me to leave, just say it. We could stage my death and make you the poor widower, if you’re worried about your precious reputation. Would that make you happy then? Would that be fair for you?”

  They stared each other down for a long while. Elle’s anger faded into despair, and she began to truly fear that Duncan was seriously taken her proposals into consideration. She had nowhere else to go—no one to depend on. And the more pregnant she got, the less she would be able to move around in public.

  Eventually, Duncan sagged and leaned back on his heels. He looked exhausted—no, worse, he looked defeated. “We made vows before God. Can’t go breaking them now. Like it or not, you’re my wife, and this is how it’s got to be.” His voice was wearied, broken. He sighed, bowing forward for a second before walking past her and exiting the house.

  Elle jumped when he slammed the door shut, the following silence so suffocating that it finally pushed her to cry more openly—more fully. She brought her shaking hands to her face and wiped her oncoming tears.

  The baby kicked her again. Sniffling, she stared down at her stomach. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her throat so constricted that only a wisp of air came out.

  She didn’t know who she was apologizing to or why, but it felt good to say the words. “I’m sorry.”

  ***

  Duncan sat out on the front porch’s steps for several hours. Even when he heard Elle blow out all the oil lamps in the house and go to bed, he didn’t move from his spot. He let the darkness conceal him and the starlight illuminate the flat land all around him. He stared out toward nothing the entire time.

  At first, he didn’t do much thinking. He just let himself feel all of his raging emotions. He let his anger burn out, his jealousy temper down, and his sense of loss fade into the corners of his mind. The night was muggy, the summer heat ever present, even without the sun. It made him feel heavier, sleepier. He blinked sluggishly, a weighted numbness pressing down on him.

  He did start thinking about things then…about the few letters he and Elle sent back and forth…about their eagerness to start this new life…about the lies of omission….

  Now that his own hurt wasn’t as lively within him, he was able to admit that he wasn’t the victim in this situation; neither of them were. Neither one of them had fully known one another when they got married, both containing their own secrets…their own histories. He had just thought…they were working out so well together, and he liked to think that he was becoming her one and only. That clearly had been a foolish dream though. They had made an arrangement—an agreement—without being fully open with one another. Now, they had to pay the consequences. But first, he had to make things right.

  Resigned to what he had to do, Duncan went back inside around midnight. He knew the house like the back of his hand, and he was able to navigate his way to the bedroom through the blackness. Once there, he could hear Elle snoring in their bed.

  He let himself smile a little before he quietly got into bed next to her. Tensed, he did
n’t move beneath the covers in fear of waking her up. Instead, he just rested on his side and let his eyes adjust to the darkness. As they did, he was able to make out more and more details of this beautiful woman’s features.

  His heart constricted. Tempted to reach out and touch her, he clenched his hands into fists and closed his eyes.

  He didn’t fall asleep until hours later.

  In the morning, Duncan woke up to the smell of eggs and bacon. Smacking his lips together, he groggily opened his eyes and turned.

  Elle’s side of the bed was empty, of course.

  Duncan groaned and stretched. Once he was more awake, he got out of bed and headed for the kitchen. Last night’s resignation returned to him, albeit slowly, and when he found himself standing in the kitchen, he just stared at Elle’s back while she made breakfast. He felt stunned, as if their confrontation the day before had all been some twisted dream. He rubbed his eyes and tried to think clearly.

  “Good morning?” she said quietly. She opened a cupboard and took out a plate before placing eggs and bacon on to it. “Hungry?”

  Thoughts and feelings rushed through him, waking him up further. Clearing his throat, he said, “Look, I wasn’t completely honest with you either.”

  She stiffened, then turned to regard him with a weary expression. Her grip on the plate was so tight that it trembled.

  Duncan blew out a breath, his heart aching. He rubbed at his chest and forced himself to continue—to make this as right as he could. “My daddy owned a lot of factories in Pennsylvania. Hell, he probably still does. He always had a good mind for business, and he made millions of dollars in a matter of years. I was supposed to inherit all of that, but…” He lowered his gaze, her gleaming eyes seeming to cut right through him. “During the war with the south, me and all the men in my family were drafted. I didn’t want that though. I didn’t care how honorable it was, I never wanted to be in no war. So, the first chance I could, I ran. I went back home, took all the money I could from my family, and I traveled west. Here.” He shut his eyes tight, fear and self-loathing coursing through him. It had been a long time since he thought about his past actions in detail like this, and the pain of it all was agony. His eyes stung, and his heart shattered. “I’m not a good man, like you thought I was. You…you did what you had to. I did what I wanted to. There’s a big difference. And what I did ended with me being alone and miserable, and that’s what I deserved. I shouldn’t have…” He sighed, opening his eyes and forcing himself to look at her. “I’m sorry.”