Accidentally Yours

by Ames, Ilsa

  I wiped the tears from my face, brushed my teeth, and dressed in my work clothes. I had to be a big girl about this, I didn’t have time to cry right now. I’d give it another month and then we’d have to look into our options.

  Tiago saw my face as I walked into the kitchen and immediately took me into his arms. He knew what that meant, even though we didn’t really talk about it. I hadn’t even told him I love you, yet. I wanted to wait, to be sure this would work, before I gave that part of myself to him fully. I was already invested, but who knew what would happen if I hadn’t had a child within a year of our wedding? He’d need to find another woman to marry and get pregnant to inherit that money, after all.

  That made my shoulders shake as another sob took over.

  “Shh, baby, it’ll happen. Don’t let it consume you. Look at me.”

  He pushed me away a little to look down into my eyes. His thumbs came up and brushed away my tears as I gulped and tried not to blink my contacts out of my eyes. “We have time, and if it doesn’t work, then we’ll just have to see what the options are. Don’t get upset, please? It hurts to see you cry.”

  I gave him a watery smile and sniffled. “I know, I just don’t want to fail you. So much is riding on you getting that money.”

  “It’s a lot of money, I’ll give you that. But, c’mon. Sit down and eat.” He guided me around to the table and we sat down to the waffles and juice he’d set out. “If we don’t get all of the money would it be the end of the world? Layla may need more in the future, but we’ll find a way, won’t we?”

  “You’d give all of that up for me? That’s a ton of money, Tiago.” Did he love me, is what I really wanted to ask, or was this a snow-job to keep me quiet while he found someone else?

  No, I couldn’t think that way, Tiago wasn’t a cheater. I knew he wouldn’t replace me quickly, no matter what happened. That was my own insecurity and I wouldn’t let it sour anything for me. We had something good between us, now wasn’t the time for self-doubts. Even if I failed super-hard at the whole getting pregnant thing.

  “Money doesn’t mean anything without the people that care about you, June. That’s what my father taught me. He didn’t teach me anything but that. Even this whole stunt he’s pulled with the inheritance, it’s about vindication for him. He wanted to prove me wrong.”

  “It’s odd isn’t it?” I interrupted, a thought had occurred to me. “He wanted to prove you’d fail to provide a good home, love, and emotional support to a family for money. He thought you’d fail and lose the inheritance. I mean, did he think you were more like him or something? Why didn’t he do it the other way then? If you fail to have a good relationship and family, you win?”

  “Because he thought I’d fail, and that if he snatched the money away, it would hurt more to prove that I was a failure and just like him. He was never a good father, obviously. He only ever wanted to hurt me, really.” He looked away, his jaw a hard ridge that I tried to smooth away with a caress.

  “He’s not around, and we’re going to prove him wrong, one way or another, baby.” I gave him a wink to show my faith in him.

  “You’re too good to me.” He kissed my fingers and stood up. “I have an appointment with the doctor today.” He said it softly, as if he didn’t want to actually admit it. I waited, breath held. “Maybe it isn’t you.”

  “Maybe. It’s good to find out then, isn’t it?” I spoke just as softly because I didn’t want to spook him.

  “I suppose it is.” He went around the counter, gathered his phone up and his car keys and came over to me. “I’ll see you tonight, baby. Have a good day.”

  I gave him a goodbye kiss and watched him go. I had no idea how this was going to end, or what we would do if we couldn’t have a baby. Were there other instructions in the will, that gave concessions for inability to conceive? Could we adopt, perhaps? Would an adoption agency hand over a baby to a couple that was still in their newlywed phase?

  I pondered it and sent an email to Tiago about it later that day. I ate my lunch from my desk and waited for a reply. I scrolled through an online forum, advice for women that needed help to conceive. Relax seemed to be the one piece of advice that came up, over and over. What, my tense vagina scared away the sperm, was that it? Could your vagina tense up?

  I stared at the screen and frowned. I had this picture of a tense cartoon reproductive system in my head, and it almost made me laugh. There were lines radiating from the cartoon, to indicate tension, and big eyes that were scrunched shut as the whole thing shivered. I patted the area around where my reproductive organs were and told them to relax, calm down, and to not run off into madness.

  Silly, but it all made me laugh to myself. I was as afraid Tiago would get spooked and divorce me. I knew we’d grown close, and I knew we’d more than likely fallen in love. But it was frightening to think that I could be replaced by another woman. He needed a marriage and a baby to inherit that money. It was billions of dollars, after all.

  Was love really worth that?

  Could I let him give that much money up for me? Was I supposed to be selfless in this situation and force him to find someone new? Every inch of self-preservation in me cried out that I shouldn’t be so damned stupid.

  I’d find a way to make this work. I scrolled through to an IVF site and studied that for a while. If my body was fine, and I could technically carry a child with no problem, then maybe this was our answer. I read a few horror stories, a few success stories, and turned off my computer. That didn’t look any more helpful than doing it the natural way, and it cost a lot more.

  I didn’t know what the best idea was and had nobody to talk to about it. I didn’t really have close friends, other than Tiago. I guess Ella, Layla’s mom, was a good candidate. I liked her down to Earth funkiness, but she was in Canada with her own problems to deal with. I couldn’t bother her.

  I’d just have to do it the old-fashioned way, and deal with it myself. I hadn’t had any notifications from Tiago, and I had work to do. I buzzed my assistant, Elizabeth, and told her I was done with my lunch. A client came in, a young kid, maybe fifteen, who stared at me sullenly. I knew all the phases these kids had gone through, for them an imprisoned parent could be like a death for them. They experienced grief, anger, acceptance, all of it, and this kid was still in the anger stage.

  He was a teen, as well, so that didn’t help. “Hi, Andrew, how’s life today?”

  “I got suspended from school for some super-stupid shit, June. It’s bullshit, man, and my foster-mom is pissed.” I didn’t even blink at his language. I let them talk how they wanted and be themselves. Unless of course that self came with aggression. Then I put a stop to it politely, but firmly.

  “What happened?” I prodded him for information and gave him calm logic to focus on, rather than the lecture he’d expected about his language. This usually disarmed the kid and left them confused. I might be able to get an answer quicker, that way.

  “I was minding my own business, and this kid just started talking real loud to his buddies, telling them what a loser I was because my pops is in jail, you know what I’m saying?” He paused for me to nod. “So, I hit that fucker. Right in his mouth. That shut him up.”

  I nodded. Trust me, I’d felt that same impulse from time to time, even if I’d never personally ever hit anyone.

  “Anger is never an answer, Andrew, you know that. Look where it got you.”

  He scowled, looking down. “I know. You’re right, June. But I’m sick of it. People look down on me for some shit I didn’t even do.” He stared at his hands, his face that of a young boy again. A lost little boy.

  “And you proved him right, with that response, didn’t you?” He looked angry for a moment, he’d expected me for to stick up for his side, but I threw him off again with my contradiction.

  Slowly, Andrew smiled.

  “You’re tough, June. I like you. And yeah, you’re right. I should have just been the bigger man and walked away. Isn’t that weakness
, though? Won’t they think I’m a puss—er… won’t they think I’m weak? Afraid or something?”

  “Do you want to show people you’re strong, Andrew, and make them fear you? Or do you want to get through school, get an education, and show them you aren’t a loser.” I sat with my left eyebrow quirked. “When I was in your situation, I wanted to smack every girl that said I had cooties, or that called me a loser. But I rose above it. Do you know where those girls are now?”

  “A strip club?”

  I snorted in spite of myself.

  “I don’t know, could be. I don’t know because I don’t care. They stopped mattering as soon as I finished school. Their opinion didn’t matter, anymore. You might never see most of those kids again in your life, so don’t wreck your life now for people that won’t matter in four years, honey.”

  “You’re right, June, you’re right.” He nodded his head, his backwards ball cap bouncing on his head. He was slim, small for his age, but wiry. He could protect himself, and that mattered, but he needed to know that things would change, and he had to change too. “You got kids, June?”

  He looked curious, not disrespectful, so I answered. “No, but I hope to have one soon.”

  “You’re going to be a great mom, I just know you are.” He gave me a wide grin, his blue eyes happy. “I wish you were my mom, but she’s doing twenty years. I might have kids of my own by the time she gets out.”

  “You might and thank you. Neither of us had a great start in life, Andrew, but we can both make a difference in the world.” I didn’t want him to carry on with that line of thought, it only led to distress. “Now, what are we doing today?”

  Andrew distracted me from my own problems as we went over his case and looked for areas to improve together. He was set to go out on a trip to one of the universities in the area. He was a smart kid and one of the schools had offered him a summer program, free of charge. I wanted him to take part in that program. It would be a major step forward for him.

  My day finished, and I went back to the house. Oscar hissed at me as I walked in the door and I left him alone. I never could quite figure out what I’d done to make him hate me, but he had been lost when I found him, and I wasn’t going to give up on him. One day he might not scratch me when I came near him.

  I went up to the bedroom to change into more relaxed clothes, black yoga pants, and a loose, light blue top, and headed down to the bathroom for a hair tie. I passed the nursery on the way and paused. My hand reached out for the door handle slowly, and I tensed up. I didn’t want to look at the empty room, it had become an accusation to me, of my bareness, and I hated to look it, but I felt compelled to.

  The door swung open on the empty room and I stared into it. There was still no baby on the way to make it a nursery, and I didn’t really have anyone to talk to about it. I felt alone, and a little angry. I’d talk to Tiago about it tonight, I decided. He’d said he had an appointment to see a doctor. Perhaps he’d had some news.

  Maybe we could talk about IVF? He hadn’t mentioned it since the wedding, not really, but I couldn’t see why he might object to it. That sounded like the best idea to me, so I closed the door and went on to the bathroom.

  We needed a baby. But really, all I wanted was his baby.

  I’d never really wanted a child of my own, but now I did—one that came from him and I. Even if I had to torture myself to conceive. I wanted a house filled with laughter and the sound of tiny feet. Andrew had solidified that need in me today. He thought I’d make a great mom, he’d said, and I wanted to find out now if he was right.

  13

  Tiago

  “The doctor said everything looked fine, so far, and we should be alright. He’s done some tests, but everything is good to go.” I turned to my wife, my beautiful, adorable wife, and kissed her nose. We’d made it through dinner and were now on our way to a lazy night of Netflix and chill.

  We stretched out on the couch together and June scrolled through the list until she found a Viking comedy we’d decided to give a try.

  “So, it’s either me, even though the doctors say I’m fine, or we’re just doing it wrong?” I heard her say as the first episode ended.

  “Pardon?” I knew what she meant but didn’t want her to think I’d had it on my mind still.

  We communicated well, when it came to most things, but there were areas of our lives we kept to ourselves, things we didn’t say. It was good the way it was, comfortable, and I didn’t want to mess that up.

  She paused the program and I breathed in quietly through my mouth. I didn’t like how tense she was.

  “Am I the problem or are we doing it wrong? Do I need to stand on my head or something after we’re done?” She turned to me on the sofa and I sat up.

  I didn’t want to talk about this. I wanted to watch the television, with her and have a peaceful night.

  “I don’t know, June. Let’s talk about it later.” I tried to take the remote from her to turn the show back on, but she pulled it away.

  “I’d like to talk about this now, Tiago. I feel the pressure, you know, even if you don’t. We only have a few months left to keep trying to get pregnant.” Her eyes told me how hurt she was, how worried.

  “We have well over a year left, June, what’s the rush? Most couples would be glad they hadn’t messed up in the first year anyway.”

  Ahh, shit. I knew that was the wrong thing to say the second the words left my mouth.

  “I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “Our child wouldn’t be a mistake,” she muttered. She glared at me, the first time I’d seen her so angry with me. It was kind of cute. Well, it’d be cute if I didn’t feel like an asshole for having just said what I said. Or if I wasn’t on edge after saying it.

  “You’re right, I didn’t mean it the way it sounded, honey. I swear.” I breathed a sigh of relief as she turned back around.

  I leaned back when she suddenly turned back to face me. “Can we talk about IVF?”

  I frowned. “Why should we? That’s just…” I shook my head, my eyes pulling away. “I’ve never liked that. Test tube babies and all that stuff. It’s too… clinical.” I dismissed it out of hand and didn’t give her time to make an argument for it.

  “So, it was alright when you thought I wouldn’t want to have sex with you, but now it’s not?”

  “If it was the only way to get you pregnant, yeah, it would be fine. But it’s not. We’ll keep trying and it will be fine.”

  I shot a side-glance at her and tried to think of how to calm her down. Right now, she was just miffed a little. Another wrong word and she might explode. Then her shoulders sank down, and I felt something inside of me crack as I felt her hitch against me, like she was holding back tears. Now, I really did feel like a dick.

  “I feel so isolated sometimes.” Her words came out a soft whisper that broke my heart. “I have no friends to talk about this stuff with, and you don’t want to talk about it at all except to say, ‘it will happen.’ The doctor and advice forums online say to relax, it will happen. I’m not tense when we make love, I’m so relaxed it’s laughable, so what do they mean, relax? I’m just so… frustrated and alone!”

  She stood up and left the living room. I heard her race up the stairs and stared around the room, stunned at how upset she was. Shit, did I made her feel isolated?

  I got up and went up the stairs to follow her. I heard the water running in the tub, and headed that way, knocking on the closed door.

  “June?”

  No answer. Fuck.

  “June, baby, I’m sorry.” I pinched the bridge of my nose, pissed at myself for letting it get to this. “Can we talk?”

  She didn’t open the door and there was no response.

  I tried twice more before I heard the little Bluetooth speaker she had stuck to the side of the bathtub start to play some old Ella James.

  Yeah, that would be not-so-subtle code for “No, we can’t talk right now.”

  I turned, pissed at
myself for the way I’d handled the conversation, and headed back downstairs. I turned the TV off and went into the office and stared at the computer. There was no answer there.

  I eventually opened a book on my phone, and then went up to our room after I heard her go in. For the first time, she turned away from me when I reached for her

  I couldn’t get to sleep, although I heard the light snores she sometimes made, and knew she was.

  Goddamnit. I couldn’t explain why I didn’t want to do IVF, but maybe it was because I’d already given in to my father’s demands so much. I knew, deep down, I felt as though it must be my fault.

  Everything worked on her, and the doctor said everything worked on me, but maybe the fates had decided I wasn’t going to have a child? Deep down, maybe I held back because I didn’t feel like I deserved one? Could that be it?

  I fell asleep with the question in my mind.

  <><>

  The weeks went by and nothing improved. We didn’t talk about IVF, but there was a wall there now, I felt it as if it was a real thing that kept us separated. I passed a customer their drink order and stared around. All of my extra staff had been laid up with some kind of flu and I was the only healthy one, so I had to stay late that night.

  I watched the couples dance, drink, and laugh together. June and I did very little of that now. She brought home files now, for the kids, for programs she wanted to look into, and spent a lot of time away from me. She’d started to stay late at work, and when she came home on the nights it was her turn to cook, she’d go straight into our home office.

  We still had sex, we were still friendly, but she’d turned something off, and I didn’t know how to turn it back on again. I had taken this timid, quiet lady into my life, turned her into my wife and made her a sex fiend.

  And now, something was different. There was something between us now, and I knew it’d started when we’d started to really “try” for the baby. Or really, it’d started when we’d started to try and hadn’t been successful.