There is no way in hell that I’m going to risk running into him. It might be a hefty bill, but I’m going to go to my father’s house. My Uber pulls up outside the building a few minutes later, thankfully before Elijah shows up. As soon as I’m in the confines of the vehicle, the tears start to fall, painting my face in anguish, in heartache.
I can’t breathe without him, but knowing he is having a baby with another woman. I can’t live through that. I won’t be a second option, not when I can be a first for someone else. And that woman, she has money written all over her. She’s going to take, and take, and take until there is nothing to take from him.
“Are you okay, miss?” the driver asks, his voice startling me from my newfound reality.
“Yeah,” I croak, wiping at a couple of lingering tears. “I am now.” Sucking precious oxygen into my lungs I try to calm my erratic heartbeat, but every breath makes my chest ache, every breath reminds me that I no longer breathe for myself but for a man that I love more than life itself. A man that now is no longer mine, maybe he was never mine to begin with.
I always thought if we ended it would be over something stupid, something so mundane neither of us would understand why, but never did I think it would end this way, so sharply, so disjointed. The pieces of my heart shattered at her words.
Three days. That’s how long it’s been since I saw his face. Since I tasted his lips. My heart aches. It hurts to breathe. I’m dizzy with exhaustion. I’m barely sleeping, not so much because I can’t. Mainly because every time I close my eyes, I see them together. Married. With more kids. Happy and in love. Living the life that he and I were supposed to live. It doesn’t just hurt to think about or see, it kills me.
He’s called and texted non-stop, but I can’t bring myself to answer the phone or read the messages. I don’t want to talk to him. I don’t want to hear him spout more lies. I can’t believe I was stupid enough to believe him, that he didn’t have sex with anyone else without a condom. Like I could ever be his first.
A knock on the door drags me from my thoughts. The door pushes open and my dad’s salt and pepper colored head pops into the room. “Hey sweetheart, you want to come down for dinner?”
“I’m not really hungry, Dad.” Even I can hear how depressed my voice sounds. This is pathetic. I’m pathetic.
“Bailey, you need to eat something.”
“I ate some oatmeal…” I try to think of the last time I ate. “This morning.”
“It’s seven at night, honey. You haven’t eaten in almost twelve hours. Also, Elijah called again. I think you should call him back and talk to him. I don’t know what happened, but he sounds really upset about whatever it is. I know you both have had fights before, but you’ve always made up.” Of course, Elijah would use my father against me. I roll my eyes so hard I’m pretty sure I just saw my brain.
“He said he was going to come here if you didn’t call him back. The boy sounds heartbroken.” That gets my attention, not the heartbroken part but the part about him coming here. The last thing I need is to see him. I finally got myself to stop crying.
“Do not let him come here! I don’t want to see him. I’ll get a hotel and won’t tell anyone where I’m going if you let him come here. We’re not friends, we’re nothing.” I slam my closed fist down on the mattress. My chest rising and falling at a rapid rate, giving way to the raging inferno inside me. I’m close to a volcanic eruption.
“Woah, Bailey!” My dad raises his hands and takes a step toward me. He looks like he wants to hold me, but it’s not his touch I need, and if he thinks his presence is going to calm me right now, he’s wrong. Nothing can fix this. Nothing.
“Calm down, honey. I told him not to come here, and if he does, I won’t open the door, I promise. I just really don’t like seeing both of you hurt. He’s like a son to me, and well, you’re my daughter, so I never want to see you hurt.”
His words relax me a tad, but that’s all. It doesn’t change anything. “Let me take a quick shower and then I’ll come down to eat something,” I finally tell my dad, my voice calmer now. I can see his shoulders relax a little and a smile falls on his lips.
“Okay, sweetheart.” He leaves the room, closing the door behind him. Staring down at my hands, I take a deep breath, letting the oxygen fill my lungs. My stomach hurts, my chest throbs, and I suspect this is what death of a heartache would feel like if you could die from such a thing. God, how am I going to survive this?
Shaking my head, I get up from the bed and open the dresser drawer. My phone is still there. I turned it off and threw it in there yesterday. It was going off non-stop and only made me cry more. Looking down into the drawer, I stare at the sleek device. I know I shouldn’t turn it back on, but my resolve is wavering with each second that I stand staring at it.
Grunting at myself for being so weak, I grab the phone and power it back on. I don’t plan on calling him, but maybe I can listen to one of his voice messages so I can at least hear his voice. How pathetic is that, even angry at him, I feel the need to hear his voice? I’m so fucked up, so screwed.
As soon as the phone turns on, forty-eight text messages, fifty-two missed calls, thirty-one voice message notifications pop up on the screen. Most of them are from Elijah of course, there are a few texts from Erin, but I know what those are going to say even without reading them.
Going straight to the voice messages, I hit play and listen to one when I realize that not all of the messages are from him. One is from my OBGYN office.
I must have an appointment coming up. They’re probably just calling to confirm it. I don’t recall seeing anything in my calendar, then again, I’ve been focused on other things. Knowing most likely that it’s just a reminder, but curious enough to hear otherwise, I hit play on the message.
“Hello Mrs. Renshaw, this is Chloe from Dr. Warner’s office. I just wanted to see if you wanted to reschedule your appointment you missed on the fifth of this month. Please give me a call back at your earliest convenience. Thank you, goodbye.”
The voice message cuts off and I stare down at my phone in confusion. Missed appointment? On the fifth? That can’t be right. It’s the end of the month now. I didn’t miss my appointment almost four weeks ago. Did I? A nagging feeling settles deep inside my stomach. I try to recall the last time I went in for my depo shot. Has it been four months ago? Shit. If so, then that means Elijah and I have been having unprotected sex for weeks.
I flip through dates and events in my mind. A throb forms behind my eyes and I squeeze my phone in my hand, realization dawning on me.
I should’ve had my period days ago. Which means… my knees wobble, and I lean against my dresser, trying to steady myself. Still, I’m unable to keep myself up on my feet. Sliding down onto the floor, resting my back against the wall, I start to cry.
I don’t know how I know it, but I just do. I can feel it deep inside me. I don’t need to take a pregnancy test, I already know… I’m pregnant.
I’m carrying Elijah’s child. His other child.
16