Reluctant Dad

by Carla Cassidy

  She hugged him to her heart, breathing in the sweet baby scent of him as tears of relief flowed down her cheeks. He nestled against her, his cries changing to soft whimpers, then ceasing as if the only thing he’d wanted in the world was his mother’s arms.

  As she continued to hug Jamie, Neal was led away. “Come on, let’s get out of here,” Dominic said to her.

  She shook her head. “Give me just a minute, okay?” With Jamie in her arms, she moved to the side of Susan’s bed.

  Susan’s eyes were shut, but Melissa sensed a tension in her, an awareness belied by her closed eyes. An abiding sadness swept through Melissa as she gazed at the pretty young woman. Bill’s abuse of her had been horrid, but the true tragedy was that instead of becoming a survivor, Susan had totally succumbed to being a victim.

  Melissa looked at Susan’s hand atop the sheet, recognizing the plain gold band that adorned her ring finger. It was an exact replica of the one in Melissa’s drawer at home. Melissa had stopped wearing hers during her pregnancy because her fingers had often swelled, and hadn’t put it back on after Bill’s death.

  She took Susan’s hand in hers, wishing she could pass on some of her strength to the broken woman, wanting to somehow connect on the basis of the sisterhood they had shared, both as wives of Bill, and as women who’d known abusive love.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m sorry you’ve been hurt. Hopefully some day you’ll be able to live again and not be afraid.” There were so many things Melissa wanted to say. She wanted to tell Susan that if she continued to surrender, Bill would have won. She wanted to tell Susan that there was hope—hope for the future, hope for happiness. But, she was aware of Dominic waiting for her and in any case, wasn’t sure Susan would—or could—hear.

  She started to pull her hand away, then gasped softly as Susan’s hand squeezed hers. Brief, but distinctive and firm, the connection lasted only a moment, then her hand was once again lax in Melissa’s.

  As Melissa left the room, a burst of optimism soared through her. Susan’s spirit was not completely gone. It was merely hidden, healing. Hopefully, after time and with therapy, she would go on to lead a happy, fulfilled life.

  Dominic was silent as he led her out of the building and into the bright sunshine of the late afternoon. The optimism that had filled Melissa only moments before seeped away.

  It was over. The police had the man who’d murdered Bill. She and Jamie were safe, and she was glad for that. Now there was no reason for Dominic to stay in her house, remain in her life, and this thought filled her with a renewed despair.

  He knows, she thought. He knows the kind of man Bill was, the kind of marriage we had. Dominic couldn’t help but know that she’d been abused, and she wondered if that knowledge was what caused the shadows of distance in his eyes.

  “The infant seat is in my car,” Dominic told her. “Why don’t you and Jamie drive home with me, and Mawlins can get an officer to follow with your car?”

  Before she could reply, Detective Mawlins came over to where they stood. Melissa tensed, making Jamie squirm in protest at her tight hold on him. Dominic moved closer to her, as if to protect her from whatever the detective might have to say.

  The big man plunged his hands into his pockets and looked decidedly uncomfortable. “I owe you an apology,” he said without preamble. He withdrew his hands from his pockets and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “I’ve got no excuses except my own bullheadedness. Every lead I had pointed to you. I’ll call the D.A., make arrangements for the charges to be dropped.”

  Melissa nodded and Mawlins looked at Dominic. “Nice work, Marcola.” He held his hand out to Dominic, who, after a moment of hesitation, shook it.

  As Dominic made arrangements with Mawlins for an officer to drive Melissa’s car back home, she strapped Jamie into the infant seat in the back of Dominic’s car, then got into the passenger seat.

  Her gaze automatically went to Dominic, her heart tearing in half. She’d known he would leave. But somehow she wished he’d never learned of Bill’s abuse. She hadn’t wanted him to go with the knowledge of her weakness, her stupidity—the character flaws she believed had kept her in the relationship with Bill.

  she wished he was leaving with the memory of a passionate, strong woman instead of a woman who’d compromised herself because she was too much a coward to break free.

  It wasn’t until they were on their way back to Wilford that Melissa realized she wanted to tell Dominic about her life with Bill, wanted somehow to explain the choices she’d made.

  “He didn’t hit me the first year we were married.”

  “You don’t have to do this. You don’t owe me any explanations,” Dominic replied, his gaze fixed on the road ahead.

  “But I want to,” she protested. She needed to talk about it with somebody, purge herself of the memories. She looked out the window, unable to gaze at him while she dredged up the past.

  She closed her eyes, remembering those first months of her marriage. “The first couple of months with Bill were good ones. He fulfilled the fantasies I’d had about love, but at the same time he subtly began to chip away at what little self-esteem growing up with my father had left me.”

  She squeezed her eyes more tightly closed, fighting the tears that threatened as she remembered how desperate she’d been to please Bill, how innocently vulnerable she’d been to his machinations for power and control. “I was desperate to make the marriage work, terrified that Bill would leave me because I wasn’t good enough at cleaning or cooking. God, he played me like a fiddle. He knew which buttons to push, what fears to exploit, what weaknesses to manipulate in order to keep me constantly on guard and afraid. By the time he actually hit me, I’d lost the ability to think, to believe that I could get away.”

  “I don’t want to hear any more,” Dominic interrupted her, his voice filled with tension.

  She looked at him, saw the rigid set of his jaw and the way his hands gripped the steering wheel. Disgust. That had to be what he was feeling. She disgusted him in having been so weak, and so willing a participant in such a dysfunctional relationship.

  Once again she stared out the window, a hollow ache filling her heart. She should have known better than to try to explain, than to try to justify things to a man like Dominic. People who were well-adjusted, who had never had their self-esteem attacked, couldn’t understand. In truth, Melissa wasn’t sure she would ever understand all the forces at work that had kept her helpless to escape Bill.

  She closed her eyes, again trying to contain the tears that burned hot behind her eyelids. She’d been a fool to try to explain it. Dominic’s reaction was exactly the reason why she’d kept her secret for as long as she had—because in her heart she’d always known that somehow she was as much at fault as Bill had been.

  Silence filled the car for the duration of the drive home. Dominic didn’t attempt to breach the tension, and Melissa saw his silence as an indication of his final withdrawal from her.

  She didn’t know why it hurt so much. She’d expected it. Despite their lovemaking, she’d had no illusions about a future with him. He’d never pretended there was any hope; he’d made it clear he didn’t even want to be Jamie’s godfather. And yet, her heart had hoped. And the penalty for unrealized hope was pain.

  She was almost grateful to get home. She wanted him packed and gone quickly; didn’t want the pain to linger any longer than necessary.

  “I’ll just get my things together,” he said as she unlocked the door and they entered the house. She nodded, and carried Jamie to the nursery:

  There, she changed his diaper and began to put him into a fresh outfit. He cooed and smiled, earlier tears dried, previous fears forgotten. Oh, how she wished she had the ability to forget the sensation of being held in Dominic’s arms, the hot taste of his lips against hers. How she wished she could forget the deep, husky sound of his laughter, the gentleness he’d shown in caring for her son.

  As she changed Jamie�
�s clothes, she was aware of the sounds of Dominic packing in the next room. Each scrape of a hanger against the closet rod resounded in the empty chambers of her heart.

  When Jamie was dressed, she picked him up and grabbed his infant seat. The house felt claustrophobic. She didn’t want to sit in here and listen to the sounds of her heart breaking.

  Carrying Jamie in his seat, she went out the back door, seeking refuge where she’d often run to escape Bill’s scathing remarks and hurtful words.

  Sitting down amid the profusion of flowers, she placed Jamie next to her on the concrete bench. The sun was setting, bathing the area in the warm golden hues of twilight. The stillness of the air made the flowers’ bouquet especially sweet and strong.

  Birds sang their sweet, final lullabies before night claimed what was left of the day. Melissa closed her eyes, seeking the peace this place had always brought to her. But peace remained elusive.

  She should be happy. At least she’d been cleaned of the murder charges. There would be no prison term for her, no time away from her precious son. She was enjoying a renewed close relationship with her sister, and Bill could never hurt her again. She should be delirious. Her future stretched out before her, calm and peaceful—And achingly lonely.

  Her thoughts suddenly turned to Susan. Susan had curled into isolation, choosing to be alone rather than risk being hurt again. She’d lost her will to live, abandoned all hope for a future.

  Melissa couldn’t do that. To give in to a despair so profound it obliterated the possibility of a happy future, would be the ultimate win for Bill.

  She tilted her head as she heard the sweet redbird’s song. She saw the flash of scarlet darting from tree to tree, the male followed by his mate. She remembered her conversation with Dominic about second chances, and her utter belief in them.

  Footsteps sounded behind her and she turned to see Dominic approaching, his suitcase in hand. The sight of the suitcase created a renewed twist of pain in her hear.

  He dropped the case and sat down next to her. She closed her eyes against the assault of his physical nearness, trying to ignore the spicy scent of him, the warmth of his body close to hers.

  “I thought I’d find you back here,” he said.

  She looked at him, forced a smile, and tried to ignore the way slanted rays of the setting sun sharpened the handsome lines of his face, highlighted the rich color of his hair “So, what are your plans now that you’re finished here?” I love you, her heart cried. I love you and you’re walking out of my life.

  For a moment, as he gazed at her consideringly, she wondered if her thoughts had somehow escaped from her lips. “I’m not sure,” he answered. “I’m thinking about trying to get my job back on the police force.”

  “Oh, Dominic, that’s wonderful. They’ll be lucky to have you back on the force.” Her heart was so full of her love for him, she suddenly knew that she had to tell him.

  It didn’t matter if he didn’t love her back. It didn’t matter if there would never be a future for them. For her to keep her feelings inside, for her to be afraid to voice them, made her like Susan, made Bill win once again.

  “Dominic.” She waited until he was looking at her. “I love you.” The words escaped from her with a sigh of release. His eyes widened, his jaw dropped as if she’d shocked him. “I’m not telling you this because I expect anything from you. I just couldn’t let you leave here without telling you.”

  “Melissa...” He averted his gaze from her and raked a hand through his hair. “Maybe you think what you feel is love. You’ve gone through a tough time, and you’ve had to face some terrible things since Bill’s death. You were alone and I was around. It’s probably gratitude.”

  Melissa stared at him. Anger began as a small burning in her stomach, a fire that swiftly ignited out of control. She stood, her body trembling from the force of her anger. “How dare you,” she said, her voice low and husky with emotion. “How dare you tell me what I feel.”

  She walked several feet away, then turned back to face him. “For the first eighteen years of my life, my father told me how I felt and what to think. Then I married Bill and he became the keeper of my thoughts and feelings.” Tears pressed at her eyes, tears not because she knew he didn’t love her, but because he’d so frivolously discounted the validity of what she felt. “I’ll never allow that again. I won’t allow you to diminish what I feel for you, to somehow turn it into a case of insignificant gratitude.”

  He still had a stunned look on his face, as if she were somehow speaking a foreign language he didn’t quite understand. “I love you,” she repeated. “And nothing you say will change that. I understand that you can’t return those feelings for me, that you can’t get past the disgust you feel about me and my relationship with Bill. I felt your disappointment, your revulsion in the car while I was talking to you about my marriage. I just—I just had to tell you how I felt about you before you left. It’s a gift, no strings attached. You made me hope again. You made me dream again. And for that, I am grateful.”

  She turned away, unable to stop the tears, and unwilling to share them with him. She didn’t want his pity, didn’t want him to feel in any way responsible for her.

  Dominic stared at her back, so many emotions flooding him it was difficult to sort through them all. The confusing emotions had begun in the car, while he’d listened to her talk about her marriage to Bill. The confusion had continued while he’d packed, his thoughts jumping from Melissa to Abigail and back again.

  But as he heard Melissa talk about him feeling disgust for her, that confusion cleared. He stood, went over to her and placed his hands on her shoulders. “Melissa.” He turned her around to face him. “What you thought was my revulsion was anger. Anger at the man who hurt you, who owned you as if you were a possession instead of a wife. And I was angry because you didn’t trust me enough to tell me the truth about your relationship with Bill. That despite everything we’d shared, you had kept this a secret.”

  “I was afraid to tell. Afraid people would think it was my fault, that I was stupid, that I was weak.”

  “Oh, Melissa.” He framed her face with his hands, his thumbs caressing the silky skin of her cheeks. “You were a victim, Melissa. You have no reason to feel ashamed. And as far as being weak—you are the strongest woman I know. When you ran into that hospital room and faced Neal, I thought my heart had stopped.” He fought a residual shudder of fear as he thought of her rushing into that room, braving Neal and his gun.

  “I couldn’t let him hurt Jamie. No matter what, I couldn’t let that happen,” she replied.

  Dominic nodded and dropped his hands from her face. “Come, sit back down. I need to tell you something.”

  She looked at him curiously, but did as he asked. When they were once again seated beside Jamie on the concrete bench, Dominic drew a deep breath for courage; he was delving into uncharted waters, into facts he’d denied to himself for too long.

  “I led you to believe that I loved Abigail. And I thought I did until I heard you talking about your relationship with Bill. Then I suddenly realized it wasn’t love, it was a sick kind of dysfunctional codependency.”

  Melissa looked at him in shocked surprise. “What do you mean?”

  For a moment the words stuck inside him, and he knew what he felt was the same sort of sick dread in confessing weakness that had kept Melissa silent about her abuse for so long. He knew that in telling her what he was about to reveal, he would be diminished in her eyes. But if nothing else, perhaps his confession would help heal the scars she carried on her heart.

  He stared at the rosebushes, unable to talk about his relationship with Abigail while looking at Melissa. “In the very beginning, I thought Abigail’s ambition was cute, and the fact that I knew she had secrets from me was intriguing. I knew she was seeing other men, seeking one who had enough money to keep her in the way she wanted to become accustomed. But I thought if I loved her enough...that love alone would be enough.”

 
; He paused for a moment, pressure tight in his chest as he remembered how manipulated he’d been, how willing he’d been to settle for any little piece Abigail would give of herself to him. “She’d tell me she loved me, but that she’d never live on a policeman’s pay. She ridiculed my work as a cop, made me wonder if maybe something was wrong with me. She pushed me away, then pulled me back, and like a puppet, I danced to her tune.”

  He finally turned and looked at Melissa. “How can I feel disgust for you because you lost yourself to Bill when I did the same thing with Abigail? I settled for less than I wanted, less than I was worth, because the alternative was to be alone.”

  She smiled—a sad, bittersweet smile that ripped at his heart. “We’re quite a pair, aren’t we? We’ve both had terrific experience in the wrong kind of loving. Love isn’t supposed to hurt. It’s not supposed to steal your power. There’s no shame in being a victim. The shame comes in when you begin to believe you deserve the abuse.”

  She stood and picked up Jamie from his seat. “This little guy still needs a godfather. I want him to have somebody in his life who is strong and good, who will teach him about love and ethics, about dignity and charity. Dominic, no matter what you feel for me, I’m going to ask you one last time. Will you be a godfather to my son?”

  Emotion, intense and thick, once again pressed against his chest. She looked so beautiful, standing before him with the waning sunlight dancing on her. Jamie’s blue eyes gazed at him solemnly, then a smile lifted the corners of his lips—a beguiling smile that shot straight to Dominic’s heart.

  When had it happened? When had this lovely, passionate, giving woman and her baby managed to banish all the shadows from his heart? When had she given him back the possibility of his dreams?

  As he looked at the woman and child before him, he realized the dreams he’d believed had died with Abigail hadn’t died at all. They’d just been buried, waiting for a special woman to free them.