by Lisa N. Paul
“So you’re now leaving me and our baby to be with her because you”—she threw her hands in the air to surround the next words in quotes—“‘just can’t do this anymore’?” She inhaled slowly, attempting to slow her pounding heart. The obstetrician had warned her during her last appointment, an appointment that, ironically enough, Ben had missed due to work, that an elevated blood pressure was bad for the baby. April continued to pull in deep breaths, putting her baby’s safety before her own heartbreak. She would put her child first…always.
“No, I’m leaving you to be with her because I. Don’t. Love. You… I love her.” Ben answered from inside the walk-in. “Sorry, snuggle-bunny.”
She flinched at the once-adored nickname as he pivoted.
His easy glance rested on hers. His narrow shoulders shrugged nonchalantly as if he were apologizing for forgetting to bring home milk—something he often did. “We just weren’t the fairytale I thought we’d be. It isn’t all your fault.”
She couldn’t contain the gasp that left her mouth as his words sliced through her. Ben stepped out into the bedroom, hands filled with clothes. His gaze flittered past hers and quickly snapped back, zeroing in on her face. Maybe it was her rounded eyes, her tightly drawn-in lips, or her clenched fists. Possibly it was the way her nostrils flared or her uncharacteristic silence that screamed in the dead air, but whatever it was clearly made Ben Spears uncomfortable, and when Ben got uncomfortable, he began to ramble.
“Um, April, snuggle-bunny, there’s no need to lose your head over this.” Ben’s brows arched, nearly reaching his hairline. “I’m sure you and the kid will be fine. That’s one of the reasons I waited this long to tell you. I wanted to make sure the kid was fine before I left. Now you won’t be alone after I’m gone. I’ve got it all planned.”
April felt her jaw drop. Was he kidding? There was no way this was the man she’d spent the past eight years of her life with.
“We’ll work out child support. You know I’m good for the money, right?”
She stood silently, staring at her husband and watching his lips move as bullshit spewed from his mouth. It was obvious that her silence was making him nervous, but in that moment, she didn’t give a damn how he felt.
He continued to ramble. “Sooo, I’ll just send a monthly check and stay out of your way. I can go be happy with Becky, and you and the kid can… you know, do your thing.” He quickly turned and entered the bathroom to pack his toiletries.
He’s good for the money? Do our thing? April screamed in her head as emotions cycled through her mind. He was supposed to be a good husband and a good father. We made vows stating that we would spend our lives doing our thing together. What the hell just happened? She refused to crumble in front of him, the person who was walking out on her and their baby. No, apparently it was just her baby. The little life inside of her was no more than a nuisance to a man who was nothing more than a stranger. She’d obviously missed the signs that her husband was an unfaithful shit. While she could make a valid point that her lack of observation was due to pregnancy hormones, she wondered just how long she’d been living with blinders on.
The hammer that had been pounding in her skull when she arrived home was now accompanied by a drill and a buzz saw, while waves of nausea inched acid up the back of her throat. Her throat tightened by the second as sadness took hold, forcing shallow breaths and causing her eyes to sting. Inhaling slowly through her nose, April forced oxygen into her burning lungs. She closed her tear-filled eyes and exhaled, releasing carbon dioxide and a promise that she would not cry. No way would she show him any sort of weakness when he was clearly displaying no heartache at all. So instead, she held herself together and grabbed onto the only emotion that would keep the sadness away until he left: anger.
With her hands caressing her belly, she waddled over and stood before the floor-to-ceiling bookcases. Each of the wooden panels displayed collections that she and Ben had each spent years acquiring. In the left case were her beautiful paperback books, each one signed by its author and in perfect condition. On the shelves to the right were Ben’s fucked-up, creepy bobblehead dolls from every sport, movie, and event he’d ever attended. Goddamn things had been freaking her out for years. She swore the little bastards nodded at her every time she got undressed, and the larger her breasts became during her pregnancy, the more their little heads bounced. She clenched her teeth, grabbed the first doll, and quickly went to work.
“What the fuck, April?” The bitter question came from a very unhappy Ben some time later.
Standing amongst a pile of de-bobbled dolls, April lifted her gaze to her husband’s surprised stare. She’d become quite efficient at the decapitation process while Ben was in the bathroom packing. She’d overheard him having a not-so-quiet, not-so-sullen phone conversation with his new girlfriend. April was appalled when she heard Ben report that he thought the encounter with his wife went pretty smooth. But when he told good ol’ Becky how he was looking forward to spending the night with her wrapped in his arms, well, that was when the bobbleheads really started flying.
Ben crouched down, picking up the remains of his beloved Princess Leia figurine. “I loved this one.” His eyes glistened with unshed tears. “I can’t believe you would do this to me, April.”
April stared at her husband. Words evaded her. Was he insane? Had aliens invaded his body? That fucking doll was reducing him to tears but leaving his wife and unborn child meant nothing? Uncertain if it was pure rage or pregnancy hormones, April once again found herself pulling in cleansing breaths.
“Hmm.” A sardonic smile pulled at her lips. “Well at least I didn’t lose my head over this.” She pointed at the broken toys. “They did. Now get your shit and get the fuck out of my house.” In that moment, her baby kicked hard, as if it too agreed with April’s rage. “And, Ben, if you ever call me snuggle-bunny again, your dolls won’t be the only things to lose their head.”
She took pleasure in the look of dejection on Ben’s face as he tried to gather his precious dolls. Brushing past him, she walked gracefully—well, as gracefully as a pregnant woman in her ninth month could—and stopped when she reached the bathroom door.
“Get out,” she screamed, her voice cracking like thunder in the quiet room, startling Ben and causing him to drop the possessions in his arms. The sound of plastic heads falling to the hardwood floor was almost musical and his panicked face was comical.
The man grabbed his bags and scurried out of the room like the rat he turned out to be. Once April heard the garage door close, she allowed the tears to fall freely, along with her dreams of her perfect little family.
* * *
Decker
DECKER BRAND SAT stiffly on the granite bench that faced his wife’s gravestone. The coolness of the stone sent a shiver through his clothes and into his skin. Sleeping peacefully in a stroller by his side was their daughter, his sweet angel—blissfully oblivious to her surroundings. At almost two years old, little Charlotte missed her mother, but after the first few months, when she’d begged for her momma and cried herself to sleep, his little girl seemed to be adjusting to her new normal. What was it people always said about kids? They’re resilient? Decker shrugged. While he didn’t necessarily agree with that theory, he did know that kids did what they had to in order to get by. His gaze landed back on the shiny black marble.
“My God, Olivia,” Decker said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t believe it’s been a year. We miss you.”
He leaned over and caressed the stone as ripples of nausea and waves of guilt sliced through his gut. Guilt for how they’d been and the way he felt. Remorse for all of the things he could have done differently and hadn’t. And deep regret that his little girl would grow up without her mother. He looked at the sky as a fresh burden washed over him, and he prayed for peace. He needed to let go of the blame that weighed him down. Logically, he knew the accident wasn’t his fault, but the marriage—well, he sure as hell wasn’t blameless there. An
d for that, his heart hurt every single day.
Staring at Olivia’s headstone, memories from that horrific afternoon slammed into him. She had been angry with him, and she had been for quite some time. But instead of discussing her feelings the way he’d urged her to do many times, her behavior defaulted into passive-aggressive tantrums and finally a text message tirade. Her last words were branded in his mind and on his phone.
Charlotte sighed softly in her sleep. The sweet sound quickly brought Decker out of the past as he watched his baby girl fall quiet once again.
A year had gone by in a flash, his daughter keeping him on his toes and on the go. But when the house was quiet at night as he got ready for bed, Decker let his mind wander. He allowed himself to think about Olivia and how things had been back when they first met. When they saw what they thought they wanted in each other as they fell in love with the illusion of love.
After all, it hadn’t been that many years before when the woman who’d shared his last name had been exactly what he thought he should have. Someone laid-back and intelligent instead of a dim-witted, over-eager woman looking to get her hands on either his money or his dick. While he’d been happy to share both, it eventually got mundane, and he started looking for more.
When he was first introduced to Olivia Colver, he’d been having drinks at the country club where she and his brother were members. Not being a country club kind of man, he’d never met her before, and he was entranced by her beauty, her shrewdness, and her refined demeanor. She was the opposite of what he’d been unsuccessfully dating and exactly what he thought the business side of him should appreciate. He wanted her, and he could tell by the way she flirted with her pretty smiles and tiny giggles that the feelings were mutual, so he pursued her with little resistance and savored the catch. His desire was so strong that he ignored the glaring warning signs and the flashing lights screaming that there were large differences between them. Over time, the very things that had attracted him to Olivia and her to him were the things that wedged them apart.
He’d been on a new job site the day of Olivia’s accident. His company, Brand Construction, had once been a small business founded by his grandfather and grown by his father into a large group; now one of the biggest companies in the Philadelphia area and one that was known for giving back to the community when it could. Decker and his younger brother, Ford, were its sole owners. While there wasn’t a job too big or small within Brand Construction (BC) that Decker or his brother couldn’t do, they each had their preferences of what made them happy. Ford excelled behind the desk, crunching numbers, assembling business deals, obtaining building permits, and schmoozing with the right people. That left Decker doing what he loved, what he was passionate about—building.
Decker’s father had taught him, as a young boy, about wood-working, electrical wiring, and drafting. There were even weekends when he got the opportunity to join his father on a job and learn from the man who was his hero. Those were some of Decker’s happiest childhood memories and where his love of the trade truly began, a love that ran bone deep, one that he treasured with his soul. Something Olivia refused to understand. Something she refused to accept.
While Decker practically thrummed with pride and excitement over landing a huge account, the Robertson Project, one that several of the top construction companies in and around the city had been bidding on, Olivia disapproved of the entire project. In fact, she was livid when she learned that BC had offered to do the entire job for the cost of materials and not a penny more.
“That is no way to run a business, Decker,” she chided coolly. “Your father must be rolling in his grave.”
The words she’d used to cut him barely stung, as she had obviously never met his father. Had she, she would’ve known how truly proud the man would’ve been to see his sons continuing to give so generously.
Olivia came from wealth. She was fine wine, pressed suits, and ballroom dancing, but it was the social status and public opinion that she thrived on. Therefore, the thing that bothered Olivia most, the thing that made her ever-present mask of calmness finally begin to crack, was the fact that Decker himself would be the foreman of the job. He would be overseeing the entire project from start to finish, and he would be working side-by-side with his men—his version of heaven—rather than sitting comfortably behind a desk or out on the golf course. In Olivia’s eyes, public perception of him would be that of a common worker and not the wealthy business owner he actually was.
He and Olivia had been arguing. More like Olivia expressed her strong dislike of certain things, and if Decker didn’t concede to his wife’s wishes, she would freeze him out both emotionally and physically. Having grown up in a loving and nurturing home and seeing the way his parents communicated with each other when they disagreed, Decker tried to compromise with Olivia when the situation needed it, but she was not just a strong woman—she was stubborn. Her desire to be right far outweighed her ability to see how unhappy they were becoming as a couple.
Had Olivia not been pregnant when BC landed the coveted Robertson Project, a facility that would house a multitude of resources to help soldiers reintegrate back into society, Decker wasn’t certain they would have stayed together. From that point on, Decker decided which battles to wage and which were best to cede. He loved his wife the best way he could by tucking away pieces of himself and giving her only what she wanted to see. He chose a life with her and their baby, Charlie, or Charlotte, as Olivia demanded their daughter be called, and he knew he’d remain loyal to both his woman and his little girl for the rest of his life.
When the building was finally out of the planning phase and ready to be built, Decker could no longer stay locked behind his desk. The day his brother knocked on his office door changed his life forever.
“Deck, we need to talk.” Those words, combined with Ford’s serious tone, never boded well.
Without looking up from his computer screen, Decker silently waved his brother in and waited for him to take a seat. “What’s up?” Decker asked through a yawn.
He’d been up several times during the night with Charlotte. Olivia refused to do any middle-of-the-night feedings, stating her sleep was what allowed her to retain her patience during the day while Decker was at work and she was stuck at home with their child. While he would never complain and would proudly walk through fire for his daughter, his frustration with his wife grew exponentially. After all, Olivia had a nanny watching the baby for four hours a day so she could have “me time.” They had housekeepers, someone who pre-cooked meals, and a laundry service, and when he got home from work, Olivia passed Charlotte off to him, saying that she was exhausted and it was “Daddy time.” Decker hadn’t had more than a few hours of sleep on any given night in almost a year, yet his wife never seemed to stop complaining.
“Look, Deck,” Ford’s voice shook Decker from his reverie and brought him back to the here and now. “I know you know this, but I’m gonna say it anyway. They break ground on Monday.”
Decker’s eyes lifted to meet his brother’s. Of course he knew when they broke ground. This project meant the world to him, them. “Yeah, I know.”
“You wanted this job, bro. You lobbied for it, you procured the funds, you found the perfect site… this is your heart, Deck. You need your hands on this job with your men.”
Decker looked at his brother, and he could see the sincerity in his eyes. Ford was a dependable friend, a tough-as-nails business partner, a compassionate man, and a loyal brother. There was no doubt what he was saying was coming from the heart and was completely true.
“Ford”—Decker rubbed his heavy eyes—“you know it isn’t that easy. She’ll be pissed as hell if I run this job. It’s gonna get a ton of publicity.”
His brother closed his eyes, scrubbed his hands over his face, and pulled in a deep breath, holding it for a second before exhaling slowly. “For fuck’s sake, Deck, when the hell isn’t she pissed?” Ford opened his eyes and leaned forward in his chair, his palm
s flattened on Decker’s desk. “She’s been slowly draining the life out of you since the day you met her, but you loved her, so I’ve kept my fucking mouth shut. But honestly, I can’t do it anymore.”
Decker waited in silence while Ford carefully measured his words. It was something his little brother was known for in both their business and personal lives. The man never spoke without weighing how his words would affect the outcome of a situation.
“I know she’s your wife. Okay, I get it. But what I don’t understand is why your marriage is all about what Olivia wants, what Olivia needs, and what makes Olivia happy. What about you?”
“You’re right.” Bile rose in Decker’s stomach as he conceded quietly. “I want to do this job, Ford, I need it.” Decker ran his fingers through his hair. “I feel like I’m fucking suffocating sitting here behind this desk. No offense, I know you love this business side, but I need to get my fucking hands dirty, man.” As if a weight had been lifted off his chest, Decker breathed deep. Come Monday morning, he was finally rejoining his crew and taking control of some part of his life. “I’ll contact Troy today and let him know that I’ll be stepping in as foreman. I’ll move him to a different site where he’ll not only be in charge but he’ll have the opportunity for overtime. The guy will be thrilled.” Ford’s eyes mirrored his own excitement, and for a moment, he swore he saw his father in his younger brother’s smile.
“You do realize that this is gonna go over like a lead balloon at the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, right?” Ford quipped as he motioned toward the picture of Olivia and Charlotte on Decker’s desk.
“Yeah, Ford, I know. But honestly, she and I are gonna need to discuss it tonight. Because you’re right, our marriage has been all about her for way too long. Things need to change before it’s too late.”
