“You couldn’t have given me some notice? You have the worst sense of timing.”
“I don’t have a number for you. This is the only address I had of yours and I wasn’t even sure if your parents still lived here.”
I nod in understanding, but his explanation makes the situation no less bearable.
“Fine. Let’s talk, but you can’t see Benji right now. I need to speak to him properly before he sees you again. Shall we sit?”
I gesture towards the porch and the bench that lies underneath the window. Jesse is still stood at the top of the steps, his chest puffed out and his eyes tight. They scrutinize each other as Seb passes him but no words are exchanged between them. I pull Jesse gently towards the door and he finally focuses back on me.
“Jesse, baby, I need five minutes with him. Can you see how Benjamin is doing? Then we’ll go home. Please.” My hands are shaking as I stroke his arm.
“Are you okay?” he asks. Clearly the answer is obvious, but that’s what people say at times like this, right? I nod, but I don’t really know how I could begin to voice how not okay I am. He leans in and kisses me. It’s not his usual soft kiss but a stamp of ownership. I should be offended, but I want it known that I belong to him, for both of our sakes.
When he turns and heads back inside I feel like I have slapped him across the face. He leaves me with the only other man who I have ever felt anything for and I know that it will be difficult for him. I hope he can appreciate that those feelings are past tense and that even at their peak they were incomparable to the feelings I have for Jesse. It would be ridiculous to even compare the two.
“So, Grayson told you.” I say, my tone clipped with annoyance.
I take a seat next to Sebastian on the bench. His elbows are rested on his knees as he leans over, looking like he’s had his whole life turned upside down. I suppose he has. The more time I spend with him the more my pity for him grows.
“Yeah, he called me. I’ve struggled with it all night. I didn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe that you wouldn’t tell me,” he says, accusingly.
“I wrote to you,” I clarify, feeling massively defensive. “I tried calling you. I left a message right after he was born!”
He shakes his head, regrettably. “We left for LA not long after you went home. I couldn’t be in that apartment when it reminded me so much of you.”
I laugh, bitterly. “You say that like you missed me, like you even cared for me.”
“Of course I cared for you.” He looks at me in shock.
“You didn’t care when you were issuing me with an ultimatum, our baby or you.” I swallow the urge to cry. Just remembering how close I was to ending Benji’s existence is enough to produce a party of tears, but I don’t want to make this situation anymore uncomfortable than it already is.
“It wasn’t like that, Mickey, not at all. I was in shock. I had all of these ideas about where my life was going and then you tell me that a baby is going to put a stop to that? I was angry and stupid and young. Too young.”
“I was young too, Seb, but I dealt with it.”
“I would have too, if you’d only stuck around.”
“No, don’t you dare!” I scorn, shaking my head at his excuses. “I am not going to question my decisions now. You could have easily contacted me. Even if you assumed that I had gone through with the abortion, you should have still tried to find out how I was.”
“I know. I don’t know what to say, Mickey. I-I’m an ass. I don’t want you to think that I took it easy though. They were some of the most difficult months of my life.”
“Oh. Poor you.” My words are weighted with sarcasm as they escape through gritted teeth. The air between us is awkward as the battle to control my emotions continues and he searches for a way to rectify the situation.
“Does he know about me?” he croaks, before clearing his throat. When I look up his green eyes are crystallized with unshed tears.
“He knows he’s had a dad out there somewhere. He knows that you were a musician…and that you love him.” I scoff at the addition.
“Thank you. I do love him, now that I know about him. I’d like to love him more though. I should be in his life, Mickey. You have to let me be in his life.”
His words pierce my heart like a blunt knife. It’s not a clean cut. Not one that can be repaired easily. I’ve always suspected this day would come, but I hadn’t expected it to happen when it was no longer needed. I have always known that Benjamin needed a father figure in his life and I just assumed that the only person who could fill that position would be his biological dad. Jesse has proven that reasoning to be nonsense. He is everything Benji needs as a father and everything that he wants. How can I now threaten that bond with the introduction of a complete stranger intent on replacing Jesse?
“Jesus, Seb.” I rub my hands over my face, completely torn with indecision.
“I don’t even know his name,” he sighs.
“Benjamin,” I reply through my own sigh. He smiles and silently mouths his name a couple of times. “Look, Sebastian. You have every right to be in his life. But, it has to be on my terms.”
Twiddling thumbs suddenly become more interesting than my face as he looks down and nods acceptingly. I see a tear fall to the decking beneath us and his hand is quick to wipe at his eyes. He sniffs away the remaining upset and straightens his body so that he is now leaning against the back of the seat.
“Was that your husband?” he queries, although he looks embarrassed at the question.
“Husband-to-be,” I correct.
“Congratulations.” He hesitates before continuing. “Is that who Benjamin sees as his dad?”
I shake my head, not in answer to his question, but in regret at my following words. “Not yet, but that was the plan. As far as I was aware, Seb, you knew about Benji and you didn’t care. I couldn’t wait around on the off chance that you’d come back.” I scrape my hair back from my face again, hot in the presence of the sun and in the difficulty of this conversation that has been pulled straight from hell.
“I can’t lie,” he announces, sitting back. “On my way over here a million different scenarios crossed my mind but at the forefront was the slim possibility of you being single. I thought that if I was lucky enough to be allowed into Benjamin’s life then maybe you’d be included, as some kind of package deal.”
I frown at him in disgust and stand to leave, but he raises his hand to let me know that he hasn’t finished. “I’ve missed you. What we had was good and I was unbelievably stupid to ruin it, for that I’m always going to be sorry.”
“Sebastian, stop.”
“BUT, I’m not trying to take anything away from what you have here, Mickey. I’m not trying to fill a gap that’s already been filled. I just want to get to know my son.”
As much as I want to hate him, to admonish him for his absence over the years and to slap him for his outrageous assumptions, I can’t help but appreciate his sincerity and believe that his presence here is genuinely for his son.
After we swap phone numbers and promises to further discuss how we’re going to proceed with things, Sebastian leaves. I spend some time alone on the porch after his car exits from the long drive, trying to organize my thoughts and compose something to say upon my return to the house, but nothing comes. I am numb. Numb to the situation and my feelings surrounding it.
Benjamin seems unaffected when I re-enter the house. He is eating a slice of cake. I want to cry at the sight of him. Jesse asks profusely if I am okay, but he doesn’t push me for specific answers. My whole family is incapable of voicing their thoughts on the matter. What could they possibly say? After a perfect day full of acceptance and hope for a promising future, we’ve been left unsure of anything.
The drive home is dire. Jesse resorts to choosing a random radio station to drown out the deafening silence, but it does nothing to clear the discomfort that echoes between us. Benjamin is oblivious to the unease that hums in the air as he falls
asleep against the passenger window. Something he hasn’t done since he was a toddler.
I briefly manage to speak to him before bed. He’s a little confused and then excited. I promise to talk to him in detail about it another time, a time when he isn’t yawning, and he seems happy with that. In truth, I need to get it clear in my own head before I’m able to explain what this means to Benji, or anyone else for that matter.
With Benjamin asleep, Jesse manages to avoid me by working on his laptop at the kitchen table. The space between us is difficult to deal with. I lie on the couch, resting my weary body as the pain in my back threatens to re-appear. I don’t care. It can’t be as painful as this silence. Jesse hasn’t touched me since my conversation with Sebastian and I’m beginning to feel like I’m losing him. The killer is, I’m not even sure why.
Sure, he wouldn’t have liked me being alone with Sebastian, but jealousy wouldn’t incur this much of an overreaction, would it? I can understand if he feels like his relationship with Benji is about to be jeopardized because I’m concerned for that very reason too, but I can’t believe that this would warrant this subsequent behavior. I haven’t purposely tried to hurt him, on the contrary.
My mind toys with the possibility that Jesse has deemed us not worth the upset. Maybe he’s decided he doesn’t love us enough to endure the difficult times ahead. It’s entirely conceivable, but after everything we have been through I push the idea to the back of my mind and pray that by tomorrow any bad air between us would have dissipated.
“Are you going to be long?” I ask. My voice is quiet and polite, as if I am talking to a figure of authority rather than my fiancé, my lover, my soul mate.
“I have a few things to finish up. Go to bed, Michaela. I’ll be up when I’m up.” The coldness attached to his words is incontestable. It bites at my heart and I don’t know what I can do to thaw it.
“Have I done something to upset you, Jesse?” I ask, my voice still low but inhabiting more confidence than I feel.
“Not at all. It’s just been a long day. I’ll be up in a minute.” He smiles but it doesn’t touch his eyes.
“Okay. Goodnight.”
I’m awoken by the bed shifting beneath me, followed by a weight pressing down on my chest. When I open my eyes Jesse is looking down on me, his elbows on either side of my shoulders, supporting enough of his weight so as not to completely crush me.
The room is cloaked in darkness and it takes several seconds and blinks of my eyes before I am able to recognize the angst tied into Jesse’s features. I reach my hands to his face and stroke my fingers across his brow, hoping to soften the tension that lies rigid beneath my touch. I trace the bridge of his nose and continue to the strong line of his jaw. In response his fingers twist into my hair and he presses himself against me with growing desperation.
“Jesse, what’s wrong?” I whisper.
The shadows shift on the plains of his face as the frown lines decease and passion ignites behind his cold eyes. Soft lips grace my forehead and imitate the run of my fingers that I made only seconds before. As they continue down my nose to my jaw, my breathing quickens. He doesn’t stop there, his feathery kisses and heavy breath maneuver around the curve of my jaw until I feel teeth nibbling at my lobe.
“I’m sorry. I’m an ass. I’m so sorry,” he whispers, the vibrations are sweet against my ear, but not as sweet as his apology. I stop trying to analyze the reason for the agonizing ambience that hung over us earlier, and enjoy the reunion between us now.
Jesse’s kisses are extreme, almost painful as his mouth finds mine again and again. His desperation would be distracting if it wasn’t for the pleasure coursing through my body. When he buries himself in me, I succumb to his urgency. I invite it, and find myself responding with equal measures of desire without understanding the reasoning behind it.
Rapidly our pace becomes more eager and his touch is harsh, like he’s trying to tear me apart. “Jesse, careful,” I whisper.
He looks at me immediately. His heated breath blowing against my mouth, as his face pinches together. “I’m sorry. I can’t do this,” he says, lifting himself gently and attempting to pull away.
I wrap my legs around him and lock my hands behind his neck.
“Yes, you can.” I don’t understand the aggression, or the sudden need to stop, but I know that I need this. I pull him to me and rest his forehead against mine. “Please, don’t stop.”
Leaning in to kiss me softly, his breath shudders as he brings us back together. No longer impassioned enough to claw at my skin or hammer my body, Jesse moves steadily, weakly, sadly, and when we come together, always together, I cry.
I’m hot. Too hot. The duvet is pulled up to my chin as if I have been skillfully tucked in. I wrestle it away from my sweat soaked skin, bewildered at the beddings arrangement. I reach across to Jesse, but my hands find nothing. Looking at the clock I see it’s not quite seven thirty, so I relax in the knowledge that he’s preparing breakfast for us.
I pull my hair into a high ponytail and shrug on my dressing gown and slippers. My eyes are surprisingly bright as I check my reflection in the mirror. With cheeks flushed with heat and lips plump and dark pink in color from the eagerness of last night’s activities, I look alive, but I don’t feel it.
Last night felt dark, the climax of a difficult day. I wish I could believe that the lovemaking was a sign of our togetherness but I can’t help but feel like it was akin to something else. A heavy sickness embeds itself deep in the walls of my stomach and I automatically look to the floor by Jesse’s side of the bed. The hold-all that he brought back with him Saturday night has gone.
The sickness pounds thicker in my gut.
Moving fast, I throw my dressing gown on and tip toe across the landing so as not to wake Benji. I strain to hear the usual sounds of Jesse creating a masterpiece in the kitchen. It’s silent.
By the time I make it to the stairs, the last twelve hours have merged together and culminated in dreaded realization; his silence after Sebastian’s arrival, the coldness and then the heat, his desperation. It all powers together to present a devastating blow against my chest. When I find the kitchen empty I fall to my knees.
He’s gone.
Chapter 29
Blind with denial, I run to open the front door and scan the streets for the Mustang. Nothing. I race back inside and stride the stairs as quietly as my panicked feet will allow. Once in my bedroom I fall onto my chest as I search beneath the bed in a hopeless act of desperation, clinging to the belief that I will find his bag tucked underneath it. Nothing. I jerk open my wardrobe doors in the hunt for some evidence that my world is not about to crumble beneath my feet. Nothing.
As realization hammers on the locked and bolted door of my denial, the object of my search shifts from proof of his presence to proof of his parting. He has to have left something for me, some explanation for his sudden departure. It’s only polite to explain the reasons for such brutality.
My exploration continues downstairs and without consciously recognizing it, my feet guide me to the refrigerator. Underneath my Rolling Stones magnet is my name scrawled across the front of a thin envelope. I take the letter and sink to the floor, unable to find the energy to walk the few feet to the dining table. I contemplate not opening it, hoping that by doing so I will halt the finality of the words I predict are there. But I do.
Michaela,
I’m sorry, I can’t do this.
I can’t be the reason that Benjamin doesn’t have the family that he deserves. Sebastian is his father and they should share a bond like no other, with nobody getting in the way. I heard your conversation yesterday and while it kills me, I know that if you and Sebastian can be together then Benji will find happiness in that.
I won’t stop it. You know why.
I hate how I’ve had to leave things and how I didn’t get to say goodbye to either of you, but it would be too hard. It’s all too hard, and I knew you would try to make me stay.
; I can’t.
I hope you can understand why I’ve left. Maybe you won’t appreciate it now, but you will in the future. I have to believe that I’m doing the best by you both.
Please don’t think that everything up until now has been a lie. My love for you has and always will be real. I wish you all the best as a family. I will gladly still purchase the new house for you all to share, but somehow I doubt you will accept it.
Please be happy. Be happy for you both. For you
all.
Impossibly yours,
Jesse.
The letter is read through a window of tears and I have to re-read the words countless times before I can truly understand them. I feel stupid for not seeing this coming. After everything that Jesse went through because of the replacement of his father with a monster, it should have been obvious to me that Jesse could react this way. In his damaged mind he conceives his existence in Benji’s life as a negative barrier in the face of his true father. He is so broken, more so than I ever could have imagined.
Dale’s memory has stolen any belief that Jesse has in his capabilities as a father, but also his right to be a one. He doesn’t want to break the bond between a son and his biological father the same way that his relationship was disrupted when his mother chose Dale over his real dad. But how can he genuinely believe that we’re all better off without him? It kills me to know that he does.
I want to be angry with him. I want to hate him for building my hopes up to soaring heights only to let them fall again, but how can I hate someone whose hatred for themself goes beyond anything I could create. He hates himself so much that he denies himself the opportunity to be happy.
The conversations we’ve had where I have instilled in Jesse the love that Benji feels for him have fallen on unbelieving ears. He can’t have felt or seen the love that Benji offered him. Or maybe he did, but he still thinks it will be outweighed by the biological ties he shares with Sebastian. If only he could realize that Benji has enough love for us all.
Forget Me Not Page 30
