Crushed

by Pratt, Lulu

  “Why are you doing this?” Virginia turned to me. “You don’t have to have anything to do with Emma. Just give me the money and we will be out of your life.”

  “I don’t want you out of my life, Virginia. I want to be a father to Emma. I brought you here so we can work out an agreement.”

  She paused, and then a mischievous smile spread across her face. “You want to be a dad, huh?”

  “Yes, more than anything,” I looked deeply into her eyes.

  “Fine. Take her then. Good luck,” she said, snatching her purse from beneath the stroller. Without so much as a goodbye to Emma, Virginia stormed out of the office, bringing my worst fear to life. My daughter would have to deal with the abandonment of a parent, although it would never be because of me.

  Chapter 43

  CHARLOTTE

  THE DAY WAS gloomy, much like my mood for the past week. I’d been avoiding Ford, ignoring his calls and texts, though I couldn’t bring myself to block him. I was a glutton for punishment, enjoying the small taste of the life I once thought was mine.

  I’d read his messages repeatedly, replaying his voicemails as though they were my favorite song. It was all I could do to stop missing him so much, and the time we’d spent together. He was so special, but after learning he had a daughter, I didn’t see how things between us could possibly continue.

  It wasn’t exactly a betrayal, since his daughter Emma was the product of a relationship far before my time. His mother made it quite clear there was never a love affair between she and Ford, just a memorable one-night stand. I hated hearing about Ford’s past, knowing there were other women who had experienced what I thought was so sacred between us.

  Ford was right – he had a past unlike mine, filled with women like Virginia. It hurt as though I had been betrayed, and I couldn’t bring myself to rationalize it. Surely, Ford wasn’t at fault, having known nothing about Emma. I just wasn’t sure where I fit in his life after the ambush. Fleeing felt like the only option but now that I was gone, the loneliness was unbearable.

  Now, with another day of work ending, my distraction ended, forcing me to face the deafening silence that had become my social life. Other participants in the internship program quickly gathered their belongings to rush home, but having nowhere to go, I took my time.

  “Charlotte, I really like what you did here,” Mike jolted my thoughts. He had been a wonderful teacher in the internship program, always willing to share his expertise.

  “Thank you,” I smiled tightly, quickly cleaning my work space of cake crumbs and spilled icing.

  “Your style has taken on a new direction – showcasing your depth and versatility,” he complimented me, as he often did. At times, I wasn’t sure if I was still a student of his, because we spent the better part of our days swapping trade secrets and recipes like peers.

  “As always, I appreciate the praise,” I said.

  “I just wanted to make sure the change in style wasn’t a reflection of your personal life,” he said in a softer tone, moving close so the words didn’t carry to those passing my station on their way out the door.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, you know, you’re known for your bright and colorful cakes. But lately,” he paused, pointing to my designs for the day.

  Much like the past week, my cakes were less than festive. Today’s designs included one two-tiered cake with beige and brown frosting and a three-tier with white, gray, and black icing. I hadn’t thought of how drastically my style had changed after my breakup with Ford, but now that Mike was pointing it out, it was undeniable.

  Every day, I’d been making similar designs, using less and less color. The response on social media was so positive, I hadn’t considered how much of a change I’d made. With my heart hurting so much, creating bright and whimsical designs was impossible.

  “No, I just wanted to show my range and try new things,” I lied to Mike for the first time. “I figured it’s best to try out new ideas here in the test kitchen before sharing with anyone.”

  “That’s great thinking, but unfortunately you won’t have much longer in the test kitchen,” he continued, halting my breath. There were still several weeks in the program. I hoped he wouldn’t be asking me to leave soon.

  “Have I done something wrong?” I asked nervously.

  “Oh, of course not. You’re being promoted!” He clapped his hands joyfully. We were alone in the work room, as everyone else had now happily ended their workday.

  “Are you serious? Promoted to what?” I asked, feeling the first bit of excitement I’d had in days.

  “I’d like you to lead the decorating department. You never really needed this program, but it’s standard for participants to go through it. Your skills are far beyond what this internship teaches. Hell, your skills are beyond what I can teach you,” he chuckled, and I found myself laughing for the first time I could remember since my breakup.

  “I’m honored, Mike,” I said, gathering my things.

  “We’re honored to welcome you to the team, Charlotte. You’re a talented baker, and we’re thrilled to showcase your art.”

  The excitement faded quickly as my inclination set in. There was only one person I wanted to share my good news with – the person who had always said I was too good for the internship program. Ford was the one who had convinced me I was talented enough to open my own bakery, a dream I hadn’t been able to get out of my mind.

  “Take some time to enjoy the accomplishment,” Mike suggested. “You’ll begin the new position at the start of next week.”

  Walking out of the bakery, I felt lighter than usual. I’d been carrying the invisible burden of my failed relationship with Ford, which felt heavier than I could carry. No one understood what I felt, and because I didn’t care to share the details, I didn’t tell anyone what happened.

  Although it was gloomy, the shade offered a nice breeze, which felt good against my pale skin. I was preparing for the walk to the bus stop when I heard my name from the back of the parking lot.

  “Charlotte!” The familiar male voice called again.

  I turned to see my brother, who never picked me up from work. Quickly, he started his engine and met me at the curb, his smile warm and welcoming. I hadn’t spent much time with Marshall recently, so seeing him was a nice surprise. Especially considering the gray skies were almost a certainty I would be walking home in the rain.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Just get in, would ya? Can’t a man want to spend time with his baby sister?” he called from the driver’s seat.

  I climbed in, still curious about his spontaneous appearance. “Marshall, what are you really doing here?”

  “That obvious, huh?” He chuckled as he pulled out of the parking lot.

  “You never just pop up to drive me home,” I explained. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining. Just curious what brought it on.”

  Marshall smiled as he drove headed into rush hour traffic. “I wanted to talk to you about Ford.”

  My heart stopped, unable to process what was happening. I hadn’t spoken to Marshall about what happened between me and Ford, fearing he would feel validated in his apprehension to support us dating.

  “He told you?”

  Marshall turned to me, “Charlotte, it was long before you. Ford had no idea when he started dating you. There’s no reason for you two not to at least try to work things out.”

  I couldn’t believe my ears, hearing my brother argue for me to attempt to work things out with Ford after all that had happened. I hadn’t considered that he would be on Ford’s side, but they were best friends. Still, I couldn’t believe my brother would ever advise me on anything he didn’t truly believe in. I was torn, my heart pulling me one way and logic another. I felt helpless in a war that didn’t appear to have a winning option.

  Chapter 44

  FORD

  WHEN I MOVED into my new place, I didn’t even take the offered tour of the family center. I
never considered I would need to use it. But ever since I’d been taking care of Emma, I found myself there every day. The park was her favorite, though she was too young to do much more than carelessly giggle while I pushed her in the swing.

  It was nice to take a few days off work to spend time with her. The adjustment was more than I’d ever anticipated. Without any experience, there was a huge learning curve to becoming the sole caregiver to a nine-month-old child.

  My mother was thrilled to have a granddaughter, but even she wasn’t equipped to care for her full time. Emma was too young, she said, offering to help more once she was a bit older. I couldn’t blame my mom. I too looked forward to the day we could do more together, like reading a book together or swimming. For now, she needed me for everything.

  It was a lot of responsibility, but looking down into the stroller, watching Emma search for the pacifier I’d lost at the park, my heart was full knowing she was mine. I’d always wanted to be a dad, though I typically envisioned it happening under very different circumstances. I thought I’d be married first, madly in love with a woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.

  I always saw myself planning for a child, as they do in movies. We’d decide we were ready and tell all our family and friends when my wife was three months pregnant. Things had really turned out differently for me. Now, instead, I was explaining how I had a nine-month-old child all of a sudden. It shamed me to mention Emma was the product of a one-night stand, so I chose to leave that part out of the story.

  Walking through my neighborhood, I was grateful I’d accepted the offer to live in the community of my colleagues. It was a real family area, and knowing that at least one person in every household worked with me added an extra layer of security.

  We’d just turned down my street, only two houses away from home, when Emma began to cry. It was unlike her. Thankfully, she was a very easy child. She rarely fussed, and seemed to give me more patience than I deserved. But her pacifier was her way of self-soothing. Without it, she needed me.

  Lifting her from the stroller, I tried my best to comfort her while still pushing the stroller. She was frantic, both annoyed and tired. Emma was usually down for a nap by now, but I had been so distracted with trying to calm her, I didn’t see my guest until I reached the start of my driveway.

  “Charlotte?” For a moment, I thought she might be a figment of my imagination. I’d dreamed of her returning so often, I wasn’t sure if it was my subconscious playing a heartless joke on me.

  She was wearing a T-shirt and jean shorts, but she looked more beautiful than ever. Her hair was pulled into a ponytail, and her face looked young and refreshed. I could see in her eyes she’d had a trying time, and deep down I felt guilty knowing I was the cause of her stress.

  I knew she deserved better than me. She was flawless, with no baggage. As her friend, I wanted better for her. Maybe a doctor or lawyer, with no children from a one-night stand. She deserved the fairy tale she wanted so badly. Her life began so traumatically, I hated to add to the heartbreak she would endure.

  But there was also a part of me madly in love with her, uninterested in the friendly desire for her to have more. I wanted her, and I wanted her to want me. Sure, it wasn’t the fairy tale you might read in a children’s book, but this wasn’t fiction.

  Real people had real issues, but that didn’t make me any less of the man she fell in love with. I cared for her even more after all that had happened, needing her by my side to maneuver through this new life. As though she could hear my thoughts, Charlotte walked towards me with an amused grin dancing on her lips.

  “Hi, Ford. May I?” she smiled as she took Emma from my arms. She was still crying, unimpressed by my attempt to soothe her.

  Charlotte cradled her neck with her hand while gently rubbing Emma’s back on her way to the front door. Quickly jumping into action, I abandoned the stroller, racing to the front door to open it before she made the short climb up the steps. By the time she reached the door, Emma was breathing heavily, recovering from her tantrum.

  My heart skipped a beat. She was a wiz with Emma. I wasn’t sure how things would move forward, but I was grateful she was even willing to talk with me. She walked into the house and looked around before turning to face me as Emma nestled against her chest.

  “You haven’t done much since I left.”

  “No, I haven’t unpacked much at all,” I admitted, struggling to get the stroller in the front door. “In fact, I’ve added more boxes to the mess.”

  There was a stack of new deliveries from the past few days. Whenever Emma slept, I searched online for all the things I’d need to care for her. I’d been reading parenting blogs, trying to catch up on all I’d missed in preparation for becoming a dad. Most people had months to ready themselves, but I was behind.

  “Does she have a bed yet?” Charlotte asked, still inspecting the living area.

  “It should be in one of those boxes, but I’m not sure which one,” I said, locking the front door before going towards the stack of boxes. “I’ve been letting her sleep with me. It’s easier that way, but I know I have to put together her own bed.” I didn’t let Charlotte know that I had been scared of letting Emma out of my sight as she was utterly dependent on me.

  There was a playpen, a rocker, a swing, a ton of clothes and diapers, and a crib. I’d honestly been putting off building her things, debating if this house was going to work for us. Before, it was perfect when it was just me, and possibly Charlotte. Now, I wondered if it would be too small.

  I wanted Emma to have a back yard to play in, and the family units were even closer to the family center, though we were only a short walk as it was. Truthfully, I’d been waiting for this moment, to see if Charlotte would consider coming back and we could work together on this.

  My heart raced waiting for her to share why she decided to stop by and what it meant for us. Trying to hold back my feelings, I didn’t rush things or put any expectations on her. I knew I was wrong and whatever she wanted was fair. I just missed her so much. My body was desperate to feel her against me, wrapped in my arms where she belonged.

  Chapter 45

  CHARLOTTE

  IT FELT STRANGE being back in Ford’s house. So much had changed, but not when it came to his place. It was just as I’d left it, packed away and in many places untouched. The ingredients I’d set out to bake a cake before Virginia bombarded me still sat on the kitchen counter. I hated to think that meant he hadn’t had a home-cooked meal in so long.

  Emma rested on my chest, her small fingers gripping my T-shirt as though I might drop her. Her touch was the sweetest, one I hadn’t realized I missed. I loved caring for children so much. I’d come pretty close to enrolling in a nursing program after years of babysitting. After learning the cost and time I’d need to be away from home, I decided against it. But my love for caring for others, especially those too weak or young to care for themselves, had never faded.

  “How have you been?” I finally asked. I’d been walking around the living room in silence, trying to see if there was any chance of recovering the special bond we’d created here.

  My heart wanted things to go back to the way they were, but I knew that was impossible. Besides, with Emma so calmly resting on my chest, there was no way to forget how things had permanently changed. Ford ran his fingers through his hair before answering. I could tell he was exhausted, overwhelmed by the new duties.

  “It’s been a lot, in a short time frame,” he answered with a sigh.

  “Has Virginia been more flexible with you seeing her?” I asked. When she was here, it felt like she didn’t really want Ford to have anything to do with Emma. To see him here alone made me wonder if they’d come to some sort of agreement.

  My stomach turned at the thought of him and Virginia finding mutual ground that exceeded the responsibility of parenting. After all, she was a beautiful woman and Ford was the most handsome man I’d ever seen. They’d make a very attractive couple, and being
together for the sake of children was common. I tried to push the thought out of my mind, focusing as Ford looked around nervously before answering. Bracing myself for the worst, I sat on the sofa, worried I might lose my footing if he confirmed my fear.

  “Virginia wasn’t interested in compromise. It seems she came here for one thing, and that was my bank account. When I told her I wouldn’t be funding her lifestyle, she wanted nothing to do with me or with her daughter.” He raised his eyebrows disappointedly, like he’d failed in some capacity.

  Unwilling to believe she had abandoned her child, I shook my head, hoping there was more to understand. “But you two barely knew each other,” I reasoned.

  “I think she thought I was much different than I am,” he said.

  That much I was sure of, or at least I hoped I was. The way she talked about Ford made me question if I knew him. She wanted him to be this heartless jerk who wouldn’t care about having a child or want anything to do with her. The Ford I knew was much different. He always told me he wanted to have children one day, and I knew he would be a great father.

  He was kind and gentle, patient and understanding. I never imagined he would want to offer nothing more than financial support to his daughter. But Virginia was most concerned with what he could offer her.

  “She just left Emma?” I asked in disbelief, holding her tighter. I had felt Virginia looked at her as a burden, speaking about her as though she held her back from a life she missed. But I never thought she could be so cold as to leave her daughter with a man she barely knew.

  It was clear Ford couldn’t handle caring for Emma on his own at the moment. And maybe that was what Virginia struggled with herself, trying to take care of Emma without assistance. She must have been tired and worn down, just as Ford looked to be now.