Unforgiving

by Patricia Haley

  “Look, I wasn’t happy about going back on my word, but I didn’t have a choice.” Sorrow enveloped her. “I’m going to lose her for good, Don.” Sobbing ensued. “What else could I do?”

  Don gasped. “I don’t know . . .”

  “Thanks a lot.”

  “Mother, you didn’t let me finish. I was going to say that I don’t know what to do except to pray. When we don’t know what to do, I turn it over to the Lord.”

  Madeline thought about his suggestion, assessed it carefully, and tried to figure out her other options. She came up blank. What the heck, she thought. She figured that Don’s prayer couldn’t hurt. Besides, in her state of total desperation, Madeline figured she’d be foolish to turn down any reasonable help. “Yes, I’d like you to say a prayer.” Nothing else had worked. Perhaps she’d try something new.

  Chapter 29

  Joel was reeling. He drove aimlessly through downtown Detroit without a legitimate destination. Time stood still, and all sounds were drowned out. He replayed in his mind Madeline’s vicious retraction of her support for his candidacy. Then he remembered his mother’s words of wisdom, how she’d told him not to trust Madeline. He was shocked to realize that she was right. Joel drove slowly, his fury rising and mostly directed at himself. How could he have been so gullible? He should have been prepared for Madeline retracting her offer. Yet he hadn’t been. She’d completely blindsided him.

  He wanted to wipe out this fresh failure as it clawed at him. His foot was itching to press the gas pedal hard against the floorboards and keep it there until he rolled into Chicago. The itching intensified as he fought against it. Joel maneuvered his car onto the shoulder of the road and put the gear in neutral. He had to clear his head in order to function.

  An hour later Joel shuffled into the house, too dazed to spend a second in his office attempting to concoct a plan B. Instead, he’d go upstairs and hibernate in the guest room, hoping to block out his circumstances for the evening. He climbed the stairs gingerly. As Joel reached the landing upstairs, he noticed through the partially open door that Zarah’s light was on indicating she was probably awake. He was tempted to dart past and avoid seeing her. That was his initial instinct, before concern kicked in and directed Joel into her room. He found his wife reclining on a side chair, reading a book.

  “It’s good you are home,” she said. “I didn’t know where you were. You’ve been gone a long time.”

  “I’m home now,” he said. Joel didn’t want to relive the trauma he’d suffered earlier. The wounds he’d suffered were too raw for him to discuss the details glibly, particularly with someone who had no means of helping him fix the setback. “Can I get you anything?” he asked, anxious to get to his room and sulk in private.

  “Nothing.”

  “Call me if you need me.”

  Joel was leaving the room when Zarah called out, “Wait. I must share a bit of news with you.”

  He wasn’t particularly excited about more news. With the way his day was going, he suspected more bad news was on the way, and braced for the worst. “What is it?”

  “I’m selling Tamara the West Coast division.”

  Joel scratched behind his ear with his index finger. “Excuse me?” He couldn’t possibly have heard her correctly.

  “I’m selling the West Coast division to Tamara. It is most important to her, and as her friend, I choose to honor her request.”

  Joel cackled uncontrollably. It was official. This was arguably the worst day of his existence. “How could you betray me too? You know I didn’t want Tamara to get her hands on the division. She’s spiteful and reckless. How could you?” he asked.

  “It is my right to make the decision. It is best to let her move to California and start her business. We have plenty of the company remaining.”

  “Zarah, don’t treat me like a child. You had no right to let Tamara go behind my back. I trusted you.” How did they expect him to keep on standing when he got one punch followed by another? If this was God’s way of getting Joel’s attention, then the mission was successful. “Call her for me please and tell her the deal is off. You’ve changed your mind.”

  “But I haven’t changed my mind. The division should be hers.”

  “Don’t you hear me? I need you to hang on to the division for us.”

  It was his only bargaining chip. DMI wanted to restore the division. He wanted the top spot. An equal exchange with the division for the CEO role was his best hope. By handing Tamara the division, Zarah was single-handedly putting a choke hold on his plan B. He didn’t have any recourse against Madeline’s betrayal. Zarah was different. She was his wife and owed him the courtesy of being more loyal to him than to Tamara.

  “Remember that the two of us and our baby are family. We have to stick together. I’m here in this house to support you,” he said, pointing at the floor. “If it had been left up to me, I’d have been back in Chicago a month ago. But I’m not there. I’m here with you. You see that I’m committed to you,” he added, his volume rising out of frustration. “Why aren’t you committed to me?”

  Zarah reached for the glass of water sitting on the small table nearby and bobbled the glass a few times before taking a sip. “Please excuse me. I’m not keeping well.” She gingerly made her way to the bed and lied down.

  Joel wasn’t sure if she was being honest. In the past she’d become sick at the most opportune time to avoid conflict. He proceeded with caution. “You want me to call an ambulance?”

  “No. Please no fuss. I’d like to lie down.”

  He remained uncertain about her current health. If he had to guess, he’d say she was fine. However, the threat of a miscarriage was constantly looming. Wisdom told him to err on the side of caution. “If you don’t need anything, I’m going to my room. Call me if anything happens.” He took her phone from the table across the room and placed it next to her on the nightstand. The tension mounted as he walked out of the room.

  Joel made his way to the guest room and began pacing back and forth. He was outraged and wanted to take action. He couldn’t continue arguing with Zarah. The risk to her pregnancy was too great. That left Tamara. He could call her and share his frustration, but it wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction he craved. His pacing and fretting got the better of him. He had to get out of that house before the walls caved in on him and crushed the bit of spirit he had left. Without uttering goodbye to Zarah, he left the house, climbed in his car, and sped from the driveway with his tires screeching. He drove down the hill and was grateful to see that the local coffee shop hadn’t closed for the evening. He parked his car in the parking lot, went inside, and was shown to a table.

  “Can I get a shot of espresso?” he asked the waitress.

  “Coming right up.”

  “Don’t tell me this is my lucky day. If it isn’t my favorite CEO,” Joel heard a voice whisper over his shoulder.

  He turned to face the person. “Samantha Tate, what are you doing in my neck of the woods again?”

  She tossed a sheepish grin his way. “Maybe I stopped in hoping to run into you.”

  He grinned as his worries lightened. “Twice in two months. What are the odds?” He recalled running into her, last month, after she’d interviewed Zarah for an article featuring local businesswomen. “Careful or I’ll think you’re stalking me.”

  “What if I am?” she said, punctuating her remark with a wink. “Let’s grab a table and chat for a while. It will be good to catch up on you and that lovely wife of yours.”

  It didn’t take long for Joel to respond since he wasn’t eager to go anywhere else. “Sure, why not..”

  Once Samantha had her cup of coffee, they grabbed a table in the back and chatted as the hour ticked by.

  “Why haven’t I heard from you?” Samantha asked. “And don’t say you lost my information, because I gave you my card the last time I ran into you here.”

  He didn’t answer. Joel had thrown the card away as soon as she left the parking lot
after their last run-in.

  The conversation moved on to other topics. The two talked freely. Their exchange was sprinkled with loads of flirting. The waitress refreshed their beverages several times. Joel was intrigued with Samantha and was more relaxed now than he’d been earlier. He was glad to spend some time with someone who’d been with him during the height of his success. His ego was happy.

  “Why don’t we grab dinner and maybe a few drinks for old times’ sake?” Samantha suggested.

  Joel was feeling loose but didn’t take the bait. “I can’t stay much longer. I have to check on my wife.”

  “That’s right, the lovely Zarah Bengali Mitchell. I was quite fascinated with her during our interview. She’s captivating.”

  “She is all of that,” he said, taking a gulp of coffee.

  Samantha rubbed her foot against Joel’s leg.

  “Don’t do that,” he said.

  “That’s a first,” she told him with a pout.

  “Like they say, there’s a first for everything.”

  “You mean to tell me the debonair Joel Mitchell is loyal to his wife?”

  He chuckled. “You’re the reporter. You tell me.”

  “Sounds like it.”

  “I guess pregnancy has that effect on a marriage.”

  “Pregnancy?”

  “Yep, I’m going to be a dad. Can you believe it?”

  “No, actually, I can’t.”

  “Me, either, most of the time, but it’s true. Zarah is pregnant.”

  “Wow. What a shock. The most eligible bachelor gets married and has a kid in not much more than a year. You move fast.”

  “You could say that.”

  “Congratulations.”

  “If you say so.” His statement hit the airwaves before he had a chance to rephrase it.

  “What do you mean by that?” she asked.

  “Nothing, actually. I have to get home and check on my wife. It’s good seeing you.”

  “Likewise.”

  “Who knows? Maybe I’ll run into you here again,” Joel told her.

  “Never know,” she said, letting her eyelids flutter which he interpreted as flirtation.

  They exchanged goodbyes and departed.

  Samantha was off his mind as soon as he drove out of the coffee shop’s parking lot. Zarah was monopolizing his thoughts. He wasn’t getting everything right as a husband, but Joel was trying. He felt bad about the argument they had had earlier and was eager to get home and reconcile. His car zipped up the hill as fast as the speed limit allowed. Joel wanted to forget about this evening, as if it had never happened. He was still open to building a marriage with Zarah if they could solve their looming issues. There was at least a fifty-fifty chance of them staying together. Zarah might not think those odds were great, but compared to the zero percent chance she had before the pregnancy, Joel saw hope on the horizon.

  Chapter 30

  Zarah braced against the pain that had erupted in her abdomen. She sucked in deep breaths, determined to alleviate the pain and silence her fears. Instead of relief, each gasp ignited a fresh wave of pain. Zarah screamed as memories of the last miscarriage episode flooded her. She had to protect her baby but didn’t know what to do. She frantically patted the sheets underneath her to see if they were wet. There wasn’t any blood like there had been the last time, which was a relief. Her heartbeat slowed down. She leaned against the headboard, shut her eyes, and breathed while gently rubbing her belly. Zarah was comforted by thinking about how much the baby meant to the marriage and to their family. Without the baby or Joel, her life was meaningless. As her body calmed, Zarah drifted off to sleep.

  When he got back to the house, Joel poked his head in the bedroom to check on her. He saw her sleeping and quietly walked into the room for a closer look, to make sure she was okay. She was resting peacefully, which was refreshing. His day had been disastrous. Ironically, taking care of Zarah afforded him a brief reprieve from his turmoil. Joel kissed her on the forehead and then went to the guest room.

  He paced around the room aimlessly and turned on the TV, then muted it. Joel plucked a book from the small built-in shelves in the corner. He paced some more and then grabbed the TV remote and flipped through several channels. He sat and stood repeatedly. The grip his turmoil had on him was too strong for him to think clearly. Prayer was calling out to him, but Joel didn’t answer. What more was there to ask? He’d sought forgiveness several months ago. After countless failed attempts to rebuild his career, he’d humbled himself and reached out to God for help. Joel wasn’t ignorant. Yet, nothing related to his marriage or restoration into DMI was working.

  He pressed his palms against the dresser and let his gaze roam across the floor. Doubt was very present. He expected to suffer the consequences of his arrogance and poor decisions. But Joel refused to believe that this latest setback was some kind of punishment from God. Besides, where would the punishment begin and end? The list of his mistakes was too long—they ranged from marrying outside his faith to giving his relationship with God low priority. It would be impossible for him to recant all his errors.

  Joel was in a bind. He needed to pray but was too ashamed to ask for more from God. He sat on the bed and rocked back and forth until it was clear to him that there was no other path forward. Joel felt like he was going mad. He became increasingly desperate. Without overthinking, he mumbled a few words to God, completely surrendering. There wasn’t an audible response from God vibrating throughout the room. There wasn’t a whisk of wind sailing around the room and blowing peace at him. But Joel did feel a smidgen of change, as if his load had been lightened a bit. It was unexplainable. He attributed his rising calm purely to faith. Even if God didn’t end up rescuing Joel from his botched circumstances, he was absolutely convinced that God was able to do it. He found solace in his belief.

  He rose from the bed and decided that he would check on Zarah in a few minutes, before turning in for the night. Suddenly his phone rang. Joel jerked the phone from his pocket and answered it immediately. Maybe it was Madeline calling to reinstate her support for his bid on the CEO role. God sure works fast, he thought.

  But all he heard on the other end of the line was moaning and groaning. And then a faint “Help . . .”

  “Zarah,” Joel called out and darted from the room. He sprinted to the master bedroom and found her folded into the fetal position on the bed, holding her phone. “Zarah, is it the baby?”

  The excessive sobbing made her incoherent.

  “Are you in pain? Are you bleeding?” he asked and felt around the bed. Finding nothing, he sprang into action. “We have to get you to the hospital. I’m calling an ambulance.”

  She grabbed his collar. “Please don’t take me to the hospital. I will be well here. Just stay with me until the pain is gone,” she pleaded.

  “Don’t you worry. I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here,” he said, sliding onto the bed and resting her head on his lap. “But we have to go to the hospital. They can take better care of you than I can. We have to go.”

  Her cries intensified. Joel didn’t know if fear or pain was fueling her cries. He had to get help. Joel dialed 9-1-1 without waiting for Zarah’s approval.

  “We can’t lose our baby. This pregnancy is most important to me. Our baby is good, yes?” Zarah said through her pain.

  Joel cradled Zarah as critical minutes ticked by. He didn’t have an answer for her or possess the ability to heal her physically or emotionally. But he knew someone who could. He placed his hand on top of Zarah’s and began praying. He didn’t seek her permission, because he realized that she might be offended. He had to use what worked.

  Zarah interrupted him as he prayed. “We must pray to the fertility gods and cure the problems we’re having with my pregnancy.”

  Joel had been married to Zarah for eight months. During that span of time he hadn’t seen her gods perform any miracles on her behalf. He’d known his God since childhood. Dave Mitchell had made sure that Joel
formed a personal relationship with God and learned to rely on the Heavenly Father during good and bad times. Joel had personal knowledge of what God was capable of doing. If the marriage was to work, they’d have to figure out whose faith was going to govern the household. Being pulled in different spiritual directions was a guaranteed recipe for failure, one that he no longer cared to facilitate. Joel had failed enough professionally to curb his desire to repeat the same mistake personally. He was tired of losing. He wanted to taste victory again. Returning to what he knew worked was the idea.

  Despite Zarah’s protests, Joel continued praying. “Lord, please forgive me for my sins. I ask for your mercy and grace over Zarah and the baby. Please take away—” Joel was interrupted by the doorbell. “Must be the medical team,” he told Zarah and removed his hand from hers.

  She clawed at him, wanting him to stay by her side, but he pulled away. “Don’t leave me,” she pleaded.

  “I have to open the door, or they’ll break it down.” She seemed to understand and acquiesced. “I’ll be right back.”

  He dashed from the room, bolted down the stairs, and opened the front door. “Come on in,” he told the two emergency medics after giving them his name. “My wife is in the master bedroom, at the top of the stairs,” he said, leading the way.

  “Is she conscious?” one medic asked.

  “Yes, but she’s in pain. I hope you can help her.”

  “We’ll do our best,” the other medic said as they entered the bedroom.

  Zarah hadn’t moved from the fetal position. She reached for Joel as soon as he entered the room.

  “You’re okay. I’m here. They’re going to take care of you,” Joel told her. He wasn’t leaving her. They’d face their fears together by his God’s grace.

  Chapter 31

  The ambulance ride should have taken fifteen minutes, but Joel had demanded that Zarah be taken to Henry Ford Hospital instead of Providence Park Hospital. The request added an extra twenty minutes. Although she’d received decent care at Providence last month, he figured at Ford she would have access to more specialists and technology since it was a much larger hospital.