by Kara Liane
Was she saying goodbye to me in some way?
It was the craziest fucking feeling. Maddening beyond belief! I kept replaying the weekend over and over again. I wanted to beat my head against the wall thinking we were always so close to the promised land, and then we were yanked right back to the start line. How the fuck did this keep happening? Maybe I wasn’t moving fast enough for her. After all, her journal laid it all out for me.
I planned on talking to her parents soon about the proposal, but I supposed now was as good a time as any. I picked up my desk phone and dialed her parents’ apartment landline. It rang a few times, but then Milly picked up. I relayed that I wanted to set up a day and time at their convenience to take her and Fred out to lunch. I didn’t know with Fred’s work schedule when he’d be available, but Milly was optimistic they could arrange something soon. I could hear the smile in her voice. Of course she had to know what I wanted to ask them because she kept hinting at it. I knew I would have her approval with no problem, it was just Fred I had to work on—I was sure he still hadn’t warmed up to me.
I also thought the respectful thing would be to talk to Brent as well. I viewed him as a watchful protector of Caylan too. But in a diplomatic and tactful way, I would fucking let him know I would be relieving him of his duties regarding Caylan…permanently. Caylan was—and is—my sole responsibility now. She is my world, and I’d be only too happy to sign up for that job for life. I hung up with Milly as she said she’d be in touch soon to arrange our chat. With my plan underway, I decided I needed to move forward with the next part—that being the planning of the actual fucking proposal.
I couldn’t decide if I wanted to do something publicly and make a big fucking splash about it, or something more private with just our friends and family. Or even something very private and intimate consisting of just my angel and I. Christ, this was a hard thing to plan. The execution I would imagine would be even harder. Okay, I’d table that whole proposal planning for now, and work on the final part. Buying the ring.
Obtaining the first and last engagement ring she would ever wear would be my focus for now. I knew immediately what I wanted it to look like. I contacted a local jeweler and told them my specifications. They were the kind of store in which I could pick the band, setting, and stone—all custom made. I placed my order and told them to have it done by the weekend. I would spare no expense. I could only hope that Milly and Fred would meet me sometime this week so I could get down on one knee this Saturday. That left me five days to plan the proposal. Okay genius, how the fuck was I going to do that?
***
Caylan
Pregnant. I was pregnant. I took a pregnant pause. Then I broke out into hysterics at my lunacy, and the unintentional pun I just landed.
The blood work confirmed my hCG levels were right in line where they should be, and it was a positive result. The doctor just left the exam room to go get me a starter pack of prenatal vitamins. Before she left, I was advised to schedule an ultrasound as soon as possible. On the way out to reception, the lady behind the counter would be able to give me my referral to an OBGYN to do so. One thing that made me feel slightly better was knowing that most likely the baby would be okay, despite the birth control pills I took. The doctor felt there were no signs leading me to worry at this time. Of course, I wouldn’t take the darned pills from here on out, and the ultrasound would help allay any more worries.
I was informed that it’s still early in the pregnancy, so anatomy and gender scans would be in the second trimester. But one thing at a time at this point to worry about. I already worried too much, and it wasn’t healthy for me and the baby. Baby…wow! So here I sat in a daze on the exam room table. Sitting on the uncomfortable exam bed with the crinkly, white paper made it profoundly cold and clinical. I felt alone, but clearly I wasn’t since my son or daughter was safely tucked in my womb.
Based on my last period, the doctor suspected I was about six weeks along. Given that timeline, obviously the first time I made love to Alexi was when we conceived this baby. After my initial shock had worn off, the longer I sat here the happier I became. I rubbed my still-flat abdomen and marveled at it. A baby.
I started crying tears of joy. Oh my God, what would he or she look like? Would he or she have more dominant and pronounced features like Alexi, or more dainty, petite features like me? Alexi…God, Alexi. How did I, where do I, how, what? I sputtered and stuttered in my mind trying to formulate my thoughts in a coherent manner. Gasp! Alexi doesn’t want to be a father. It socked me in the face when I comprehended it. Somewhere in the corner of my brain, I recalled the harsh conversation he had with Britney.
His words gave me whiplash when he seethed, “If I’m the fucking father of your alleged baby, then you don’t want to piss me the fuck off because you’ll be dealing with me for a long time. I didn’t even fucking want kids. Now get the fuck out of here!”
It was as if my brain was stuck on the rewind and play button, reliving that moment all over again. He said he didn’t want kids. As I’ve mentioned before, he said he’d never lie to me. So I guess he didn’t lie to me then. No, I lied to him, just not in a verbal context. I did it with actions. I did it with this baby. I had betrayed him. I made a promise to myself, and silently to his mom, that I wouldn’t betray him—but yet I did. I thought I accepted the fact that I might never be a mother when I chose Alexi, after the whole Britney fiasco. I thought I could not live without him. I didn’t want to, but now I had to. I could not—and would not ever choose myself, Alexi, or anyone else for that matter—over my child.
This baby was a dream come true for me. I had a piece of me and a piece of Alexi. Having something of Alexi was better than not having anything. The constant reminder of the love of my life would be seen in the face of our child, but I would not have him. Watching our child grow up fatherless would be a stab to the heart, but now that I knew what it was like to be pregnant, I don’t know how I ever thought I could do without this. I couldn’t believe I tried to convince myself weeks ago that I could handle not ever being a mother. This feeling…this complete and total sense of love, devotion, and unyielding adoration filled me so much, that my heart runneth over.
I would always love Alexi, but I loved our child more. I choose our child. Maybe all along I’d somehow known I was pregnant. Maybe the lovemaking on Saturday night was our goodbye parting. There are some things that just can’t be explained, and maybe this was one of them. No longer was I his angel. I realized he didn’t clip my wings. Alexi helped me fly. But I didn’t need him, or anyone, to help me soar about the clouds. I could do this on my own. I could do this for my child. I would never turn down the help of my parents, Meg, and my brother, though, if the offer was there—I wasn’t too proud to realize that I’d need some help along the way. God, don’t let Brent kill Alexi over this. My hot-headed, overprotective brother would surely blow a gasket. Sigh.
I had so much to think about now, but it would all be in the name of my child. I had to get a game plan together, and get one together quick. I was a coward because I was going to run from Alexi again, but running would be easier than having to say goodbye once more—I would make this a clean break and let it be done.
Some may think I’m wrong for not at least telling him about the pregnancy, because surely he’d let me go anyway. But I was even more terrified he’d ask me to stay, and then I’d have to witness the devastation on his face when I refused him by choosing our child instead.
The doctor walked back in with my pills in hand. I was grateful for the interruption of my morbid thoughts. I stared at the harmless pill pack in her hand and thought, my, hasn’t this pill situation come full circle?
***
Alexi
I texted Caylan to let her know I was on the way home, it was just after 6 p.m. But I didn’t receive a reply. I tried not to worry too much because she may have been resting. I noticed she was tired these days. I’m sure the stress was getting to her but with the threat of Greg on our ha
nds, I was afraid he’d come after her. So, I pushed my foot to the accelerator just in case.
Her car was in our resident-only parking lot when I pulled in, so I assumed she was home safe. I was so excited to really start planning the proposal, but I knew I’d need to talk to her tonight about us. I was going to do my best to allude to the proposal without actually telling her. Then maybe she’d feel better and more secure about our relationship.
Before I had even left my office, I also texted Brent to let him know I needed to talk to him too. This was a foreign concept to me to be practically asking for fucking permission from all these different parties. I always said and did what I wanted, but I wanted to do right by my angel in this respect. So talking to her brother would be a pill I had to swallow. I got to my front door and walked in, and immediately the place felt empty. It’s like I could smell the change in the air. Somehow I knew she was gone.
The tiny part of me that was in denial still ran throughout the condo looking in each room, and calling out her name. Everything was neat and tidy. I just knew that if I looked in the closets and drawers—the little bit of things she managed to bring with her in the first place—would have already been packed and would have up and went with her.
Then I saw it. There on the counter in the kitchen was my Dear John letter. It was offensive and obnoxious. Just the existence of that fucking thing crushed me from the inside out. My hands trembled at my sides. Not even flexing my fingers was going to calm me down. I stood there for a long time. Just stood there staring at the fucking white envelope that housed the contents of the final blows to my heart. My vision registered her car keys sitting next to the envelope, but I refused to accept that she fucking left me…again.
I thought the day I let her go at the lake house would kill me. This was worse, much worse. I didn’t push her away this time for her own good. She pushed me away this time, and I can’t imagine it was for her or my benefit. This felt wrong. This felt ugly, and ungodly-fucking pain rippled across my body. Was this what I did to her when I sent her away?
I would not be pushed away, though! I would do whatever it took to bring her back home. Home…this is her home. This is our home, and we were going to have a life together and a family here. Finally, I forced myself to open the fucking letter. It was not lost on me that the paper smelled like vanilla. It hurt all the more to be surrounded by her scent, but yet she wasn’t here—I sniffed the paper and then read the contents.
Alexi,
I don’t know where to start. I’m sorry for being a coward and running from you, but I simply can’t face you to say goodbye. It’s just too painful. I have come to the decision that things in my life need to be different. It’s not you, it’s me. I’m sorry if that sounds too cliché. But it’s the truth. There’s something in me that I just can’t be with you because of. I will always love you. You have opened my heart and my wings. I will be forever grateful. Please move on with your life and do not try to come after me. I will use this metaphor to help you understand.
Life is a gift. Love is a present. I am a package that contains both. Sometimes in life certain packages are not ready to be unwrapped. I don’t know if I ever will be, actually.
Please leave me in peace. I hate ultimatums, but if you try to come get me, then I’ll move back to Texas. Please just live your life and look back on our time together as a small piece in your journey. You have the most beautiful heart Alexi. I wish you well. I can’t be your angel, but you were sure mine. Take care of yourself.
Love always and forever,
Caylan
What the fuck? I read the letter at least twenty more times and dropped it to the floor. The letter fluttered about, and finally landed on top of my shoe. I loathed the damn thing! What a fucking contradiction that piece of shit paper contained. I was her fucking angel? I slumped to the floor. She had another thing coming if she didn’t think I’d be going after her.
Fuck, I’d move to Texas if I had to. I’d move to heaven. What the-ever-loving-fuck just happened?
Chapter 24: Roses are Black and Blue
Caylan
I had arrived back at Alexi’s condo at 5 p.m. I was terrified he’d be home from work any minute. I raced through the place packing all my belongings. I didn’t have much to pack up but what I did have, I stuffed in my sorry excuse for luggage.
I had already called Meg on the way back to Alexi’s from the doctor’s office, and told her everything. She would be here shortly to get me. Then I’d go right to my parents’ place and fill them in on the events. I would stay with my aunt and uncle, Meg’s parents that is, for a little while in case Alexi didn’t heed my words in the letter I was about to write him. Meg lived on campus, so staying in the dorms was not an option and she wasn’t there this summer anyway; bonus was that I got to hang with her while she was home.
At least I was not afraid to tell my parents about the news. I was not ashamed of being pregnant. I was only ashamed that I already let my child down by making him or her grow up in a broken home. But it would be a loving home nonetheless, and I would do my best to ensure that. I would move heaven and earth for my child. I would more than compensate with love for what I’d lack in material possessions, or other things.
I knew Brent and my dad would be great male figures in the baby’s life, so the child would never feel there wasn’t a strong presence of authority, testosterone, and protection; we certainly had that in abundance. I was devastated over losing Alexi, but I was becoming better at numbing that part of me. Good Lord, it would never heal or go away, but it would lessen over time. I had to believe that!
At this point, I had everything mostly figured out. I would finish school, and I knew my parents would support me during and after the baby was born. After a few months of spending time with my little munchkin, I would, God-willing, become gainfully employed. I also knew my mom would stay home with the baby, which would be a tremendous help regarding daycare. I would assist my parents with the bills and solely support my child when I got on my feet.
Eventually, I’d move out and get a place of my own. I could tackle other things along the way too like getting a car. The most important thing right now, though, was to be healthy, and make myself the safest, happiest, stress-free vessel to carry this baby. Besides munchkin, I also took to calling him or her “Goomer,” or my “Little Goomie.” I always grew up around nicknames, so I guess it was inevitable that my baby would be dubbed something cute, but silly too.
My phone chimed with a text message from Alexi telling me he was on his way home. I wanted to cry. This was going to be rough. I didn’t reply—and never would again. In fact, I’d have to remember to block his number. I also received a text from Meg letting me know she was downstairs with the car running. I replied that I’d be down in a few minutes. I put my luggage near the front door.
Then I noticed my journal sitting by the end table, and snatched it up. As I felt the cover and ran my fingers over its rough texture, I realized a part of me hoped that by leaving it out he would have asked me about it. I would have been fine if he decided to read it. He deserved to know everything. Well, he did before today’s doctor’s appointment, that is. I sighed and put the book in my purse.
I went to his home office and grabbed a pen, a sheet of clean white paper, and a crisp envelope. I was trying to be brave. Now I had to put into words my love, my goodbyes, and my request to be left alone.
I knew I’d break him, but my baby was my life now. I put my hand on my stomach and smiled. To be sad and happy at the same time was another form of irony I would have to grow accustomed to.
I scrawled my words across the page, and sealed the note. I left my condo keys and car keys next to the envelope on the counter. Finally, I took one last look around the place and exited. Goodbye Alexi….
***
Alexi
After feeling sorry for myself for about an hour or so, I called her. I texted her. My phone must have hated me for the number of times I punched the goddamn but
tons and swiped my fingers across the screen. I knew she wouldn’t answer since she told me to go the fuck away, so the next step was to go to her in person.
I banged on the door of her parents’ apartment and rang the doorbell a dozen times. I’m sure everyone thought I was a lunatic—given the neighborhood, maybe this was normal behavior. Her father came to the door.
“She’s not here,” Fred spoke in a gruff manner.
“The hell she isn’t!” I snapped back.
Fred was blocking the doorway clearly making the universal signal for “you’re not fucking getting in here buddy.” I didn’t want to hurt the man, so I didn’t try to barge my way through. Instead, I started yelling and screaming Caylan’s name over and over again. Finally, Milly came near the door. She gave me a slight smile as if to say “hang in there tiger.” I looked in her eyes and knew I had her sympathy-vote. I couldn’t understand why this was happening.
One minute I’m calling her parents to arrange to ask them fucking permission to marry their daughter, and the next minute I’m asking them to just let me speak to her. What the fuck had happened to my life in the last few hours? Milly took in a ragged breath and put her hand on her husband’s back as if to calm him. Maybe she was more or less trying to calm herself as well. Fred seemed more at ease by her touch, but he still gave me the burning-red-eyes-of-death look.
