Anxious Hearts

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Anxious Hearts Page 10

by Felicia Tatum


  “I’m still puking and exhausted, but the doc says everything is good and normal,” I said with a shrug. “My pants won’t button.”

  Laughing, she nodded. “I’ve heard that happens.”

  “Do you have any kids?” I asked.

  “No,” she responded. “Have you told your friends and family yet?”

  “One of my friends figured it out, but I haven’t sat down and discussed anything with her yet. There hasn’t been time.”

  “Do you want this baby, Daphne?” she asked, her face etched in concern.

  Shocked, I straightened in my chair. “Of course, why in the hell would you ask me that?”

  The corners of her lips turned up softly, her eyes growing even kinder if it was possible. “Don’t be defensive, I was only asking a question. A legitimate question, seeing as you’re almost three months pregnant and you haven’t revealed it to anyone, including the father.”

  How do I not act defensive to that? “I didn’t know who he was until this weekend. How do you spring that on someone?”

  “I’m worried for you is all. Depression is a hard illness to conquer, and you going off the medicine the way you did has got to be difficult.”

  “Yeah, it is. It sucks, actually, but I’m not letting the fact I hate myself prevent me from being a mother. Maybe this child will make me be better, do better. I already love it, and it’s a part of me, so that’s a start, right?” I said, my eyes growing misty. Why did I freakin’ cry over everything?

  She nodded. “It is a start, Daphne. And I’m proud of you. I know how much you hate coming to our sessions and talking, but you’re doing it for the baby.”

  Rubbing my stomach as I gazed at it, I felt a tear fall as I glanced up at her. “I love him.”

  “The father?” she questioned.

  Shaking my head, I said, “No, the baby. I think it’s a boy.”

  “When do you find out?”

  “In two months,” I grinned goofily. I loved talking about the baby. My excitement poured out every time I came to therapy because I knew I could talk about him. Fear prevented me from telling my friends, but it was time to stop. Being ashamed of who I was, of my mental illness, wasn’t any way to live life. They would either accept it or we wouldn’t be friends anymore. If someone couldn’t accept me for me, we probably shouldn’t be friends anyway.

  “I bet you’re excited,” she said, glancing at my slowly expanding tummy.

  Smiling widely, I shook my head up and down. “I really am.”

  “I want you to do something for me this week, Daphne,” she said as she wrote the last of her notes down.

  Shifting in my seat, I nodded. “Ok.”

  “I want you to tell one person about the baby.”

  Sighing heavily, I stared at her. “Does it have to be someone I know?”

  Laughing, she shook her head at me. “Yes, Daphne, it has to be one of your close friends or family members. You can’t walk out and tell my receptionist and call it done.”

  Damn. “Alright.”

  “I’m curious about something,” she said thoughtfully.

  “What’s that?” I asked, swallowing hard.

  “Why are you so afraid of letting anyone know?”

  Licking my lips, I clasped my hands in my lap. “They’re going to know it was a one-night stand. They saw me meet Zander this weekend. I don’t want to tell them I’m dealing with depression, or about the things I do. It’s embarrassing. They all have their lives together. They’re strong, happy women, and I’m just not. I’m a mess. A wreck most days who hates myself and never thinks I’m good enough. I don’t know how to tell my friends all of this,” I admitted.

  And it was nice. It felt like a heavy weight was lifted from my chest, allowing me to breathe for the first time in years. The darkness still consumed me, but I felt like a small cloud of it was floating away from me, freeing me from its hold. If only for a little while, it was a start, and it made me smile.

  It made Becki smile, too. “Ok. I don’t think they’ll be as harsh on you as you are, but it’s up to you. One person, or all of them if you want. I’ll see you next Monday.”

  I bid her goodbye, stopping by the desk to make my appointment and telling the receptionist about my little musician. Yeah, it didn’t count, but it was a start. Maybe telling someone I didn’t know would make it easier to tell someone I did know.

  Knocking on Marcus’s office door, I peered in and smiled. My insides were a mess, nausea and shaking, but I did my best to look calm and collected on the outside. “Marcus?”

  “Yes?” he said, standing and waving me in. “Come sit down.”

  Shutting the door behind me, I sat and grinned. “I have some news.”

  His facial expression fell and he cleared his throat. “You’re leaving us. I knew it. You didn’t want me to know. Are they offering you more money? We can see if we can match it….”

  He started rambling and I clicked my hand on his desk to gain his attention. “Marcus, no. I’m not leaving,” I said with a chuckle. “I’m pregnant and I have a lot of doctor appointments coming up, I only wanted to give you a heads up about it.”

  Grinning, he jumped up. “Pregnant? Congrats, Daphne! You deserve happiness,” he said with so much enthusiasm it overwhelmed me.

  I stood as well. “Thank you, I’m really excited.”

  “When are you due?”

  “In March,” I answered, stepping toward the door. Talking about the baby was great, and I loved it, but I was scared of what other questions he would ask. “I wanted to let you know. I have a lot of vacation and sick days saved up, though, so I plan on using those for most of it.”

  “Don’t you worry about it, Daph. We will figure it out as you go along. I’m really happy for you,” he said as he walked me to the door. He patted me on the back, looking over-the-moon about my announcement.

  “Thanks, Marcus.”

  I went to my desk, working on contacting clients and billing others while I attempted to keep my thoughts off my baby. It was so difficult to do. All I wanted was to go buy out the store and decorate like crazy, but I only had a one bedroom apartment. I’d have to find a bigger place before the baby came.

  Oh, my gosh. I only had six more months. I grabbed a notepad, making a list of things to do as I thought of them. It grew aggressively as the day progressed, until I was ready to pull my hair out. The end of the day couldn’t come fast enough. I had things to buy, people to talk to, and apartments to find. How would I do all of this alone?

  I had to tell Zander. Soon.

  Me: Bree, I need to talk to you ASAP.

  Bree: Dinner?

  Me: I’m starving. Where?

  Bree: Restaurant on Oak. Meet you there in twenty.

  Stopping by Francesca’s, where I was house sitting while they romped around Ireland, I dropped off my things and checked on Hamlet. He was a good cat, though he got lonely. Francesca and Cade talked about getting another cat all the time, but they hadn’t gotten around to it yet, so little Hammy purred and meowed like crazy every time someone came to see him.

  Curling up with him in the couch, I scratched under his chin while I rested my feet. Changing clothes crossed my mind, but yoga pants and a tee weren’t appropriate for the restaurant we were going to, so I would wait until I got back. Finding myself nodding off, I jumped from the seat, scaring the cat, and rushed out the door. I couldn’t stop for too long or the fatigue overtook me, lulling me to sleep for hours at a time.

  How could one person be so tired?

  By the time I arrived at the restaurant, I wasn’t yawning anymore and my spirits were higher. Talking to Bree was exactly what I needed. She was a single mom, a young one at that, and knowing she’d been through pregnancy was comforting. She waited at the table, absent of Ally, stirring the straw in her coke. “Bree!” I called, leaning to hug her before sitting down.

  “Hey, little momma,” she grinned. “How ya feeling?”

  Sighing, I nodded. “Ok. Mornin
g sickness sucks,” I chuckled. The waitress came up, taking my drink order, and left to fetch my water.

  “It does,” she laughed. “Ally made me so sick the whole time. I hope yours stops soon.”

  “Me too,” I agreed.

  Silence filled the area between us for a few moments, then she asked the question I was waiting for. “So…wanna tell me how this happened?”

  Cocking my brow, I sipped my water and smirked. “Well….when a boy and a girl are attracted to each other…” I started.

  Laughing, she swatted at me. “Don’t give me that crap, you know what I meant.”

  I nodded. “Yeah,” I said. “I do. I got drunk and had a one night stand.”

  Her mouth formed an O shape, but she didn’t say anything.

  “And turns out, the guy was Zander…Francesca’s receptionist.”

  Her mouth fell open at that reveal, her eyes wide in shock. “Zander?”

  Biting my lip, I nodded again. “And there’s more, but it’s a long story. I need your help, though.”

  Putting her menu down, she studied me. “With what? I’ll help however I can.”

  I put mine down, too, dreading what she would say. “How do I tell people?”

  “No one knows?” she questioned. “Not even Francesca?”

  I shook my head.

  Her eyes bulged. “Wow.”

  “Bree…I have a medical issue. It’s not serious, but I lied to Zander about who I was. He found out at the wedding and he still doesn’t know about the baby. He’s going to flip, and I don’t know how to tell my family or the rest of my friends. You figured it out, so it was easy, but I’m so afraid they’re going to hate me. Think I’m horrible.” I fought to keep my tears from falling.

  Reaching across the table, she grabbed my hand. Before she could speak, the server came and took our orders. Food was an enemy most days, but a friend on others. I was starving, and I hoped that meant my sickness was fading as I entered my second trimester. A burger, fries, and dessert should suffice.

  Bree chuckled after the server left, then continued on with our conversation. “No one will hate you. We all make mistakes, and we all have problems. We love you, Daphne. I really think you need to tell everyone, but most importantly, you need to tell Zander. It’s not fair he doesn’t know,” she concluded.

  She was right. Depression had a way of making me hate myself, and I often convinced myself that everyone else felt the same way. It simply wasn’t true, more than likely everyone would be ecstatic and understanding, but it was still terrifying to think about. “Bree, can I tell you something and you won’t tell anyone?”

  No one knew of my depression problems except my mom and sister. Therapy started when I was fifteen, so it wasn’t something I could hide from them. Telling Bree would be a first for me, but something about the way she said the things she did made me think she would be supportive and helpful.

  “You can tell me anything,” she smiled.

  “I’m depressed and not in the traditional sense of the word. I’m clinically depressed. I’ve taken medication for years, but had to stop ‘cause it’s not safe for the baby. I go to therapy once a week to make sure the darkness in my mind doesn’t consume me,” I blurted out. Saying it fast was best. Just get it over with.

  She didn’t say anything at first, then grabbed my hand again. “Daphne, I’m sorry you have to deal with that. I really am, but I’m here for you. Anything you need. My brother has depression, too. It’s not something to take lightly.”

  Pursing my lips, I sniffled and blinked several times. “You don’t think I’m crazy?”

  “What? NO!” she shouted, earning looks from everyone around us. Bending her head, she spoke lower this time. “You are not crazy. You have a medical condition. That’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

  Our food arrived in that moment. She released my hand, thanking the man as he set it down. I smiled, afraid to speak while so emotional, and stared at my food. As hungry as I was it didn’t look as appetizing as I expected. “Thank you, Bree.”

  Grinning, she nodded. “No need to thank me. I love you, and I’m so flippin’ excited you’re having a baby! I can’t wait until you find out what you’re having. If it’s a girl, I have some of Ally’s old stuff you can have.”

  Cradling my barely there bump, I giggled. “I think it’s a boy. I call him my little musician.”

  She looked at me with brows scrunched. “Why?”

  “Zander was playing and singing at the bar the night we met,” I explained.

  “Awwww,” she sighed. “That’s so cute. Do you like him?”

  “Have you seen him?” I chuckled. “I don’t know his personality yet, but he’s definitely good to look at.”

  She nodded, “Agreed. And your baby is going to be soooo beautiful.”

  Rubbing my belly, I imagined what my child would look like for a moment. Dark hair, like both of us, but I wanted him to have Zander’s beautiful blue eyes. “You think so?” I quizzed.

  “Absolutely. I know so.”

  We finished our dinner, chatting about the baby and her pregnancy with Ally as we ate. It seemed it was different for everyone, because she was hospitalized multiple times in the beginning, which I thanked God I hadn’t. I wanted my baby to be safe and healthy, and while the doctors assured me my drinking habits the month before hadn’t harmed him, I still worried.

  Bree said it was because I was a mother now, but it was hard to think that way. Yes, there was a baby growing in my body, my baby, and I would be a mother when he was born, but was I now? I worried for him, I would do anything for him, and I loved him.

  Mother. Daphne Waterman was now a mother.

  Zander

  She’d lied to me, she’d played me, and here I sat totally consumed with her. I wanted her, needed her, and I didn’t think I would be able to stay away much longer. Francesca and Cade left for their honeymoon yesterday, so I knew where she was. I could easily show up and see her.

  Zarina was still with me, and she’d caught me daydreaming more than once. “Who is she?”

  “Huh?” I asked, playing dumb.

  “The girl you’re thinking about,” she said with a grin. “Tell me.”

  “Francesca’s friend,” I stated. I wasn’t sure I wanted my little sister to know about my one-night stand. Not a very good example for her.

  “Why don’t you call her or something?” she asked.

  Shrugging, I shifted on the couch. “I don’t know. She lied to me about something important.”

  She leaned forward in the chair, resting her head in her hands. “People make mistakes, Zander.”

  Her words were obvious, and simple, but true. Who was I to judge? I didn’t know why she lied, and she wouldn’t explain, but she was hurt by it. She wouldn’t have cried if she wasn’t. “I’m gonna go see her,” I grinned.

  “Go!” she yelled, jumping up with excitement. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow?” I quizzed.

  She raised a brow. “I’m not stupid. Go.”

  No cars were in the driveway, and the lights were out. It was only a little after seven, so I decided to wait. Relaxing against the car, I crossed my arms and inhaled the cool night air. It filled my lungs, swelling in my chest, and I closed my eyes as I released it. This woman who I slept with once somehow had wormed her way into my heart.

  Attraction was the first step. If you weren’t attracted to someone, you wouldn’t find yourself interested enough to get to know them better. Thinking back, I realized Francesca spoke of Daphne often, and while I listened enough to keep the conversation going, I hadn’t really listened. What were her likes and dislikes? I wanted to know.

  The headlights hit me as she turned in and I smirked. She slowed her vehicle, pulling to a stop right beside me. Cutting the engine, she climbed out and stared at me. “Zander?”

  Lust and desire took over, and I walked to her slowly and purposely. Taking her neck in my hand, I pulled her lips to mine and crushed her t
o me. Her soft, wet mouth allowed me entrance, and our tongues danced in ecstasy. She moaned lightly, her hand roughly tangling in my hair and I gripped her tighter.

  What she did to me, I didn’t know, but my appetite for her couldn’t be curbed. Lifting her slightly off the ground, she launched herself to my waist, wrapping her legs around me and moving her lips across my cheek, my jaw, and my neck.

  “Daphne,” I growled. Her name poured from my lips like water from a glass, filling the air so perfectly. “I need you.”

  She lifted her face, eyes heavy and hooded. “Then have me,” she panted.

  I stumbled across the lawn and up the stairs, her legs and arms cutting off my circulation she held on so tight. Chuckling in her ear, I tugged on her lobe as I whispered, “I won’t drop you, lovely.”

  She fumbled in her bag for the keys, finally finding them and getting the door open. The couch was closest, so it was my destination. Sitting her down, I admired her beauty as she slowly peeled off her shirt, revealing her gorgeous breasts spilling out of her bra. Were they bigger? They seemed bigger. “You’re so breathtaking,” I said huskily.

  “Zander,” she said, pulling me closer and tugging off my shirt. “Make love to me.”

  Kissing her fiercely, I ran my hand up and down the soft skin on her back. She trembled under my touch, her breath growing more ragged with each stroke. She released her breasts, and I laid her back on the couch, covering her with my body as I kissed and licked every inch of her skin. Stripping her pants and panties off, I allowed my eyes to ravish every inch of her as I slowly dropped my own pants. My eyes got lost in her curves, each mound on her body deserving to be kissed and fondled.

  My mouth pleasured her as I kissed her all over, my hands leaving a hot trail across her skin. She moaned and moved beneath me, her heavy breathing growing louder as I teased and taunted her.

  “Zander, please,” she begged. Grabbing my hair with her fist, she pulled me to her, kissing me hard on the mouth.

  Entering her, I lost myself in all that was Daphne. Our bodies fit together perfectly, this time more memorable than last. Slowly we came together, each of us frantically touching and kissing like neither could get enough of the other. When we finished, laying spent on the couch, legs and bodies tangled together, I slowly kissed and nibbled along the back of her neck.

 

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