by M. Robinson
She saw me walking up to her and looked at me like she knew. I watched her whisper something in Cara’s ear, and the little girl just took off to the other side of the park, far away from us.
“Hi, Gianna,” she greeted and took a seat in the swing.
“How do you know my name?”
She cocked her head to the side. “Oh come on, you think I don’t know the name of MY husband’s play toys? ALL your names,” she viscously spewed.
“What the fuck? What are you talking about?” I angrily replied. I didn’t know if I wanted to fight or cry.
She rolled her eyes. “You honestly think you’re the first one? You honestly think there aren’t more? My husband has a problem keeping his dick in his pants. Why do you think we left? We had to get away from his last mistake, but he promised me he wouldn’t do it again. And of course, I believed him.”
“You’re lying!” I yelled.
Thank God it was only us in the park.
She shook her head. “I always wondered why James likes to pick them so young. I guess it’s because you’re stupid and easily manipulated.” She shrugged, not caring that my heart was literally breaking.
“I don’t believe you.”
She chuckled. “Then why are you crying?”
I wiped away the tears with the back of my arm. I saw her reach into her purse to take out her phone, and then she threw it at me. I caught it mid-air.
“Check out the pictures.”
I swiped at the scream and hit the picture icon. I was smacked in the face with a picture of the young girl, probably my age. She had brown hair and blue eyes, she was really pretty.
“That was the last one; go ahead, keep swiping, I think there are like five or six of them in there,” she revealed.
With each swipe my stomach turned and my hands got clammy. I felt like I was going to pass out.
My hand grabbed my stomach and I rubbed it back and forth, it gave me some comfort.
“Are you pregnant?” she asked with a tone like she already knew.
I looked up at her and nodded. “How do you know?”
“The way you’re holding your stomach. It’s a mother’s touch. I did it all the time with Cara, and I’ve been around enough mothers to know what the glow looks like,” she explained. “Wow, you’re the second one he’s knocked up. God! I’m going to have to get myself tested again. Damn it, James,” she stated to herself.
“You’re going to have to get an abortion.” My eyes widened.
“I can’t–”
She stood up and walked over to me. “What are you going to do, huh? Raise the baby by yourself?”
“No. I’m different. What we have is different. I just have to tell him; once I tell him, he will choose me, he will choose us,” I sobbed, not being able to control my emotions. “He loves me! He tells me all the time. I know he does! We’re going to be together. I’m sorry but you don’t know! You don’t know what we have!” I yelled, my voice breaking from the emotions.
She looked at me with concern and sympathy all at once. “Look at the text messages.” I looked down at her phone with dread.
I clicked over the screen and hit the text icon. One text after the other…
I love you.
Let’s make this work.
I miss you.
I’m sorry. I’ll never do it again.
Please forgive me.
No one can replace you.
The phone fell out of my hand and before it even landed on the ground, I jolted forward, throwing up all the contents in my stomach. She rubbed my back as I hurled my entire life away. It all happened so fast and in a flash, I watched it all being taken away from me.
She went into her purse and handed me a baby wipe. I spit the last of it out and then wiped the residue off my face.
“We’ve been trying to work things out since he moved here, he has been begging me to move back home and I finally gave in. We’re getting back together, Gianna.”
“Why would you take him back after all this?” I asked her.
“I’m in love with him. And you know what it’s like to be in love with someone. We’re going to go to counseling and we have Cara. I don’t want her raised in a broken family,” she responded. “I’ll give you the money for it. Your parents would never find out.”
I didn’t care about my dad finding out but it would destroy my mom, especially if I would be doing it by myself. I couldn’t raise a baby by myself; I could barely take care of myself.
I lost Mack.
I lose my dad.
I lost James.
And now, I would lose my baby.
Our baby…
I had no other choice, so I took the money and she made the appointment.
I went to the appointment three days later.
I was sitting in the waiting room, waiting for my name to be called. All different types of women sat there, waiting to get rid of something that was supposed to be so sacred. I wondered if they were like me, did they get lied to and betrayed? I felt some relief that they all looked diverse, there were no set type. No stereotype, it could happen to anyone.
“Gianna Edwards,” the nurse announced and we walked through a long corridor where I was taken into a room that had an ultrasound machine and an examination table. The nurse asked questions about my medical history and other personal questions that I imagined were standard. When she was done, she told me to put on the gown with the opening in the back. I was sitting on the table by the time I heard the knock on the door.
The doctor came in, followed by the nurse. She explained to me that she was going to do an ultrasound to find out how far along I was. I laid back on the table with my feet in stirrups as she pushed a wand looking instrument up my sex. I didn’t feel anything until the sound that was produced through the speakers almost knocked me on my ass. It sounded like a heartbeat, a really fast heartbeat. She moved around the instrument and told me I looked like I was seven weeks along. The uncontrollable tears slid down my face and the nurse grabbed my hand in sympathy.
They were extremely understanding and reassuring, telling me over and over again that there was no judgment. She explained the procedure and the aftercare. I nodded the entire time, feigning listening. They proceeded with the normal process of getting blood and taking my blood pressure. I was given Valium, which didn’t take long until I felt its effects, and a pill that was some version of another birth control. I was taken back into the procedure room and I barely remember any of it. It happened in less than five minutes. All I knew was that I cried the entire time. When it was done, they took me into a comfortable room with leather recliners and I sat in one for a few hours.
I didn’t think about anything; I was numb. When I was allowed to leave, the same cab that dropped me off picked me up. I sat in the car and stared out the windshield. I didn’t know how long I sat there, staring out into space. I was beyond zoned out and hadn’t realized he was driving toward James’ house until we were parking a few houses away. I must have told him to go there. There were no cars in his driveway and I realized it was only 2:00 pm; he wouldn’t be home for another hour.
I needed to talk to him and tell him what I had done. I needed to have him forgive me, even if I had to beg for it. I killed our child. I wanted to hear his answers and have him tell me why he lied to me if all he wanted was to use me. I needed explanations; I was at least owed that. I used the key from under the mat and let myself in. As suspected, no one was home.
I hadn’t moved from the couch and when the clock struck 3:00 pm, I waited for the door to open. I heard the doorknob turn and my heart sped a beat, expecting him to come waltzing in. I never expected his child to come running in. My heart dropped to the floor.
“Cara!” I heard her shout. I didn’t know what to do so I ran into the nearest closet, closing the door as I heard her footsteps coming inside.
“How did you get inside, little girl? Huh? Did daddy forget to lock the door?” She giggled and I heard her little foo
tsteps run through the house to what I imagined was her bedroom.
The house phone rang. “Hello,” she said. “Yeah, I’m home… Okay…yeah, I’m waiting. I’ll see you soon.”
Home…she said.
I heard the garage open minutes later and I snuck as far back into the closet as I could go. I covered myself with the hanging clothes and boxes. I hoped no one could see me if they opened the door. I tried as best as I could to labor my breathing, but my heart was beating out of its stomach. I swear they could hear it.
“Hey, baby,” he said, and the term of endearment broke me a little bit more.
“Hey, babe. It’s nice to be home. I can’t believe how long this has been going on. I miss you. I miss us.”
“I know. I miss you, too. We’re a family and we need to work this out. I don’t want to be a part time dad, I can’t handle it,” he stated.
I couldn’t believe the words I heard coming out of his mouth. Everything was a lie. Every last thing he told me. Every touch, every caress, every sonnet, and every I love you. All of it was one big lie.
“You think we can fix this, James?”
“I know we can. Where is Cara?”
“She’s down for her nap, she was thrilled to be back in her room.”
The next minutes of my life went in slow motion; I heard him kiss her, I heard him touch her, and I heard him bring her to orgasm right on the very door in front of me. They eventually made their way to their bedroom, the room we had made love in countless times. How could he do this to me?
I quietly left the closet and stood in the hallway, contemplating going in there and confronting him. But what would it matter? I had already lost everything that meant anything to me. I was truly alone and confronting him wouldn’t change that.
I hated him.
My legs moved on their own accord as I walked to their bedroom door. I heard the moaning and movement, I wondered if he was touching her like he touched me. If he whispered that he loved her. Did he think of me as he thrust in and out of her? Was I even on his mind? I believed everything that he said to me, every last word. He played me just like I played everyone. Was this my punishment?
Tears fell down my face as I pictured them naked together. I touched my stomach, wanting to feel a part of him. But I didn’t feel anything because I had killed it just like he had killed me. I was part of one big lie. I stood there and heard him bring her to ecstasy as our baby bled out from me. I started to feel the cramping of our child dying as he moaned, “I love you,” to someone who wasn’t me. I couldn’t take it anymore and tiptoed back out the front door, and then walked in random circles around the neighborhood while waiting for my cab. I had never felt so empty and hollow. I had my whole life ahead of me, a bright, beautiful future, exactly how everyone described it to me. But the underlying secrets were always my companion, sitting right next to me as I brought total emotional devastation upon myself.
When I made it into my room that night, I went straight into the shower. As I watched the blood slide down the drain, I reached below, grabbing some blood on my fingers. I brought it up to my mouth and I kissed it.
I kissed goodbye our love.
I kissed goodbye James.
I kissed goodbye our baby.
I kissed goodbye my future and everything I believed in.
He sat there on the edge of the bed with his head in his lap as tears streamed down his face. I couldn’t help but feel satisfaction; he needed to know what I went through. I was done lying, it ended that day. We were all going to walk out with the truth if it was the last thing we did.
“Jesus Christ, I had no fucking idea,” he bellowed, not looking at me. “I was never with those other girls and those text messages were fake. She must have grabbed my phone. All those pictures, everything she told you was a lie, G. It was all a fucking lie,” he roared.
He stood up and was over to me in four strides, grabbing me by my arms and lightly shaking me. “You have to believe me! She lied to you. You have to believe me!” he repeated over and over again.
“I know,” I concluded.
And it threw me right back into that night.
“Do you think he loves her?” I questioned, never taking my eyes away from their interlocked hands. He was carrying his daughter; they looked every bit the happy, loving family. I envied her. But most of all, I hated him.
“What the hell are you talking about? Of course he loves his wife. I mean, look at them, they look like a Brady Bunch episode,” she said, pointing to them.
“Where is she going?”
“Looks like she’s going with her parents or his. They kissed goodbye so obviously they’re going their separate ways. Stop hogging the bottle, give me some.” She took it out of my hands and chugged some down.
“Let’s follow him, Mack. Let’s try to talk to him. Reason with him. He has to understand. We can’t lose everything we have worked so hard for, we can’t let him win.”
“Gia, as much as I want to do that, I don’t think it’s a good idea. We could get in a lot of trouble,” she rationalized.
I turned to look at her. “More than we are already in?” she shrugged.
I put the car in drive and tried to look like I was tailing him. It didn’t matter, I already knew where he lived, but I couldn’t let Mack know that. We followed him all the way back to his house and I parked my car behind the bush of his house.
“Come on.” I said getting out of the car. “Bring the bottle.”
She sighed but followed me to the front door.
I knocked on the door and grabbed the bottle out of Mack’s hands, bringing it up to my mouth and taking down huge gulps. I needed to be G now, I needed to be her and only her. It took him exactly forty seconds to come to the door; his face said it all when he answered.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, confused.
“That’s not very nice, Mr. Nichols. Aren’t you going to invite us in?” He took the bottle out of my hand.
“Get inside before my neighbors see you,” he beckoned us inside and the house looked completely different. Scattered toys were everywhere and new portraits of them were hanging on the walls. I wanted to throw up and scream all at the same time, and it only fueled my hatred for him.
“Mr. Nichols, we came here to plead with you to help us. You know Gia can’t lose her scholarship. Please, is there anything you can do?” Mack requested.
He shook his head, not looking at me. “You know I can’t do that. You girls blatantly cheated.”
I laughed. “Oh come on…haven’t you ever cheated before? I mean done something you weren’t supposed to? I know you have…I can smell it on you,” I mocked.
“Gianna…” Mack whispered, trying to get me to calm down. I just ignored her.
“What’s wrong, Mr. Nichols? Did I hit a nerve?”
He narrowed his eyes at me. “How much have you been drinking?”
“Enough to make me forget. Don’t you want to be bad? It’s so much fun, why don’t you let me show you.”
“Gia, what the fuck? I’m sorry, Mr. Nichols, I don’t know what’s gotten into her. Yes we have been drinking. We shouldn’t have come.” She grabbed my elbow and jerked me toward the door, I didn’t want to leave, I wasn’t done with him yet. She opened it and he shut it fast, as if reading my mind.
“You’re not going anywhere. You’re sobering up and then you can leave. Go sit on the couch and stay out of trouble while I make you some coffee,” he ordered in the same tone my father used with me. The exact same tone I heard him use with Mack, it made my skin crawl just thinking about it. I moved myself away from her, I had to. Just the thought of my father and her together made me want to hurt her. I sat on the opposite end of the couch. I didn’t want to drink coffee, I wanted to keep drinking and it pissed me off that he took it away from me. He kept taking everything from me.
“Hey, Mr. Nichols, can we take a shower, too,” I stood and provocatively walked closer to him while unbuttoning my shirt, his eyes fo
llowed my hands all the way from behind the counter in the kitchen.
“I mean, since you’re being so hospitable and all,” I teased as I took off my shirt and threw it on the floor.
“Miss Edwards, put your clothes back on.”
“I like it so much more when you call me G.” I pouted. I didn’t have to look over at Mack to know she looked at me like I had lost my damn mind.
“Put your shirt back on,” he demanded in a stern voice.
I laughed, “Anything you say, Mr. Nichols. You need to loosen up a little bit. Maybe you should take a drink, or better yet, give me back the bottle and I’ll do it for you.”
“Jesus, Gia, are you out of your mind?” Mack observed. I could feel her trepidation.
This scared her? Why didn’t fucking my father scare her? It took everything in me not to turn around and unleash on her. She was a fraud just like Mr. Nichols, just like everyone in my life, including me. All of us hiding behind secrets and lies, betraying each other every fucking day; it made me sick.
“Mack, stop being a pussy!” I shouted, looking right at her. Her face showed concern but not remorse, never remorse. Was she using me all these years just to get close to my dad?
I shook my head, trying to rid myself of my dad touching her; I could still hear him bring her to orgasm. I could still hear the way she told him she loved him. My poor mom…how could she do this to me? I was supposed to be her sister!
I turned and took my anger out on him instead. I fucking hated both of them.
“He’s already failed me and ruined our lives. You should be angry with him, not me. He’s the one that has stopped all our dreams and plans, come on, Mack, tell him how fucking angry you are! Tell him how much of a son of a bitch he is! How much we hate him!” I shouted looking straight at him.
