“I’m home.” I glance around when no one, not even the dog, greets me at the door. The house is dark, but Nya’s car was out front, so I know she’s around here somewhere. “Nya? Ellie?” I peek my head into the kitchen.
“She’s staying the night at Hannah’s. She’ll drive her to school in the morning.” The grave tone of my wife’s voice coming from the direction of the living room has the hairs on my arms sticking straight up.
I round the corner to find her curled in the fetal position at the end of the couch with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Even in the darkness I can see her eyes are bloodshot, and her face swollen from hours of crying. The sight is a knife in my chest.
“That’s good.” I gulp past the knot that’s been wedged in my throat all day, dropping to my knees in front of her. “Nya, I’m so fucking sorry. You have no idea.” I try to take her hand, but she pulls it away.
“Just don’t.” She stares straight ahead, almost like she’s looking through me. “I drove by the club, worried I’d find you wrapped around a pole or in a ditch somewhere.”
Jesus. The shit that must be going through her head…
She shrugs, pushing her matted hair behind her ears. “So, I guess it could be worse, right? You could have been dead.” The smile that follows doesn’t reach her eyes. “And at least I know where I stand.”
“You’re first. You and our babies…you are always first.”
She nods. “Just not today.”
“Fuck!” I fist both hands into my hair and pull. “It’s not like that. You know it’s not like that. I wanted to be there.” I’m on my feet now, pacing the living room. “I was detained for questioning with the cops for something I didn’t do. It was Ram—”
She shrugs out of the blanket crossing the room to stand in front of me. Her voice is eerily calm, but firm. “Here’s what I know. I know that I gave you another chance. I went all in. I trusted you with my heart, Liam Michael, and once again you’ve broken it. That is what I know.”
I part my lips to speak, and she cuts me off. “I waited for you. I sat in that waiting room, staring at the door, so sure you would burst through with an explanation at any moment.”
“I’m so sorry.”
She hugs her arms to her chest. “Then I laid on that table, listening to our baby’s heartbeat…” The tears pouring down her cheeks rip my chest wide open. Her voice catches, “N-needing you there to share in that moment with me, but I was alone.” She chokes on a sob. “And do you know where that took me? That awful lonely feeling in the pit of my chest? It brought me back to the many nights I spent awake, rocking our screaming baby while she suffered with belly aches or cutting teeth, while you were oblivious and having the time of your life.”
“I wanted to be there more than anything.”
“Then you should have been!” She shouts, finally letting go her composure. “I don’t want to hear another word about that damn club! Because all I hear is an excuse. There is always going to be some crisis with that place that keeps you from us. I want a husband. I want my children to have a father who shows up. Who’s there for all of the special moments because there’s nothing in the world that could keep him away.”
I grip both of her forearms pulling her rigid body to mine. “You and our family. You’re all I care about.”
“Really? Because that’s not how it feels. Not then and not now.”
“It’s the truth.”
“Prove it.”
“How was I supposed to know Ramey was dealing drugs in a club I barely step foot into anymore… because of you? I’ve made changes, Nya. This was just a freak incident.”
“Maybe I’m being unfair.” She wiggles out of my hold. “Maybe. No, probably. But you know something?” She takes a step closer, digging a finger into my chest. “Something I’ve learned firsthand, especially when it comes to you. Life isn’t always fair.”
“What are you saying?” Bile rises in the back of my throat and my pulse soars. This isn’t happening again. This is one part of our history that’s not about to repeat itself. Not if I have anything to say about it.
She lifts one shoulder and shakes her head.
“This isn’t over, darlin’. Not by a fucking long shot. I’m not leaving. I can fix this.”
“I never said you had to go anywhere. I made a promise to you and to our daughter, and I plan to keep it.”
I breathe a huge sigh of relief, even though I know this is still far from over. “Tell me what I can do to fix us.” Cupping the side of her face, I brush her tears away with the pad of my thumb.
“I don’t know,” she says, resting her hand over mine. “You’re a resourceful man. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” She grips my wrist, lowering my hand from her cheek.
“I’ll make this right.”
She nods, then points to a stack of ultrasound pictures on the coffee table. “Veronica sent those for you. I’ve had a long day. I’m going to bed.”
I pick them up, flipping through with tears brimming in my eyes. “He looks like a baby now.”
“Yep.” From across the room I can see her throat move when she swallows.
“Did you find out? Is it a girl or a boy?”
She throws her hands out palms up and starts toward our room. “Guess you should have been there, huh?”
Watching her walk away from me is physically painful, but I know there’s nothing more I can do right now but to give her space. I take up the spot I found her curled in when I got home. It’s still warm. The throw blanket smells of her shampoo and the corner is still damp with her tears.
After an hour of examining the stack of ultrasound pictures, a chuckle bursts from my aching chest. She’s really going to hold the gender of this baby over my head as punishment. Fuck, that woman gets me at a cellular level.
Nya
Peace offering
It’s two-thirty in the morning, and I’m still lying wide awake, staring at the glowing red numbers on the nightstand.
When I feel the mattress dip beneath his weight, I pull my eyes shut, doing my best to even out my breathing.
The awareness of his hand when it comes to rest on my bare shoulder has my heart racing. The warmth of his breath as it brushes along the nape of my neck sends a shiver trickling down my spine. The feel of his tender lips pressing a kiss to my temple—it’s almost enough to break me. But the tremor in his raspy voice when he whispers I love you… that’s pure torture.
Every part of me yearns for his touch. His love. Why is it the only one who can offer me even the slightest comfort is the very same person who hurt me to begin with?
I don’t know how it’s possible that I’m still physically able to produce the tears that are now silently soaking my pillow, but I can’t seem to make them stop. Another kiss lands on the back of my shoulder, and I have to bite my lip to keep from crying out. His hand snakes around my waist, his thumb lightly caressing my pregnant belly. I wonder if he notices the gentle kicks I feel fluttering inside.