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Lucky in Love

Page 7

by Bishop, K. M.


  His face is devoid of all color as he runs his gaze down me. Somehow, I can just tell that he already knows. He’s already aware that I’m having a baby, so I guess at least I don’t have to share the news…

  But I don’t need to bothered about sharing the news with him, infact I don’t want him to know, I want him to just go already.

  “You are…” He claps his hands to his mouth. “Oh my god, you are having a baby.”

  I wrap my arms even tighter around myself, trying to protect myself and my boy from him. I turn away as hot tears fill my eyes. This isn’t supposed to be the way it is, I wasn’t supposed to wake up to this.

  “I think you should just go,” I rasp out, wishing I could be stronger. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

  “Oh hell no. We are talking about this, Natasha. We absolutely have to talk about this.”

  I grab the door quickly and try to slam it, but he bangs his hand against the wood to hold it in place. There’s a bit of anger to the way that he does this. He really isn’t happy at all, which I don’t like.

  “Please, Tony, please just go. It’s late and I don’t want to be in the middle of this.”

  I stare desperately in his eyes, trying to convey how serious I am, but he refuses to accept this. I guess we’re having this conversation whether I want it or not, which sucks because even if I was planning on it, I wouldn’t have wanted it to go this way. I would want a much calmer and more controlled environment.

  “Who does the baby belong to?” he asks, his voice trembling as he speaks.

  “Who does he belong to?” Now I’m really fucking pissed off. The strength shines through with my next words. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? I’m practically seven months pregnant, so what does that tell you?”

  He shrugs. He actually dares to shrug which changes my opinion of him completely. How can he honestly think that of me? Doesn’t he know me? I know we’ve been apart for a long time, but I’m still the same dignified person. I’m not the one who’s ever changed. I have always been exactly the same. He is the one who kept leaving, who ran away over and over again without even having a glance backwards to see how I am.

  “Okay, this chat is over, Tony. I want you out of here now.” But as I try to slam the door again, he continues to hold it open. The fact that he’s completely disrespecting me by ignoring my wishes just makes it worse. “Tony, how dare you come here like this.” I sniff. “And you have been drinking. No way, this isn’t the time or place.”

  “I know.” He nods as if this somehow makes it better. “I already know. I’ve been told.”

  “By who?” As soon as that question leaves my mouth, I already know what the answer is. He’s been out drinking, Tara is out wasted, she must have let it slip. I want to blame her, to have somewhere for this anger to go, but I can’t. She’s drunk and she probably just thought that she was doing me a favor.

  That doesn’t mean I won’t be kicking her ass later on. If she hadn’t been so drunk then maybe she would have had her head screwed on a bit better and she would remember that I’m done with him.

  “Look, I know. I already know. I just need to hear it from you as well. I need you to tell me.”

  “Tell you what? Why do I need to tell you anything if you ‘already know’?”

  “I want to hear it from you,” he pleads. “I just need to hear you say it. That’s all.”

  I roll my eyes, the temper bursting through me. “Fine, I haven’t ever been with anyone but you.”

  That silences him, but not for long enough. “You mean you haven’t been with anyone but me?”

  “No. I mean you are the only person that I have ever been with, okay?”

  “So… wait… you were a virgin? That was the… the first time for you and then I… I…”

  He realizes what he’s done to me. Good, “Yes. That was my first time, and there has only been you.”

  “So, the baby is mine? It has to be mine, doesn’t it? There can’t be anyone else.”

  This feels like a game, a bit of a challenge, and I refuse to fall to it. This is my child and I’m not about to flow along with whatever he wants. He hasn’t been here long enough to make that choice.

  “Just go, Tony. If you’re even here asking this question, then it just proves what I already know. That you are bad news for me. Why don’t you do what you’re best at and leave?”

  He’s stunned to the core, I can see it on his face, but if he can insult my personality in any way that he wants, then I can sure as hell do the same thing to him. He is a runner, he’s proved that. Yes okay, the first time I couldn’t exactly blame him but what he did earlier on in the year was all his choice.

  “Thank you, Tony, it was a fucking pleasure to see you as always, but now. We’re done here, understand?”

  This time, he lets me slam the door closed and as soon as it’s shut, I find my weary body against the door and slide to the floor with the tears flowing down my face. There wasn’t a plan, but if there ever was, that didn’t go to it at all. Now, after that, me and Tony are absolutely done forever more.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” he murmurs against the door. “Not until we’ve talked about this.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it. Not with you.”

  “We have to, and you know we do. We can’t just ignore this forever.”

  “You’ll be gone soon.” I’m not letting this drop, I refuse to. “You’ll go back to England again. You have done enough damage to me by constantly leaving me, so I won’t let you do the same to our child.”

  “You haven’t given me a chance though.” His voice seems to be coming from the same height as me. “You didn’t let me know about the baby so how can I have been around or not. I didn’t have a chance.”

  “I had no way to contact you. I couldn’t have told you even if I wanted to. And I did… want to,” I admit. “At least, at first, I did, but then I decided against it because you’re always in England. I figure that it’s much better to not have a father around at all than to have one who’s going to be half in the picture.”

  “But I will be here. For our baby, I will be.”

  I bite down on my bottom lip hard, needing to keep the emotion inside. What he’s basically saying is that I was not good enough for him to stick around for. That’s fine, of course I put our child first, but it just hurts to hear. I don’t know if he thinks this is a compliment, but it sure doesn’t feel that way.

  “Right, well that isn’t something we can talk about right now. I’ll need proof.”

  “I’m going to get you proof. That’s what I’m trying to do. I want to show you that this time I’m here for good.”

  “I can’t listen to this.” I childishly press my hands to my ears. “I can’t, Tony, not now.”

  “I’ve hurt you, haven’t I? So badly that you don’t want to hear from me again.”

  I can’t even answer that, so I hope the silence does it for me. I don’t want to lay it all on the line and to be vulnerable for him but in a way I kind of have to, to make him understand what I’m going through.

  “Right, I see. I understand that I have been a bad person. But you’ll see. You will see that whatever opinion you have of me isn’t right. I’m better. I am, honestly. I promise you, Natasha.”

  I part my lips, trying to think of something to say, but there are no words. What the hell am I supposed to say to that? I can’t be fooled, that’s for sure. He’s tricked me before and I have always vowed that wouldn’t happen again. It’s why I have closed off my heart, why I won’t ever fall for another person, why I’m glad just to be by myself.

  “Please, just go away, Tony,” I eventually reply wearily. “I just want to go to bed. I’m tired.”

  “Fine.” Thankfully, this time he seems willing to actually do what I want. Having my wishes respected, even if it has come a bit too late, is good. “I’ll go, but this can’t be the end of the conversation. We will need to discuss this again. But I do appreciate what yo
u’re saying to me. I do have to prove myself to you.”

  “Right, yes. Sure.” I chew down on my bottom lip, almost drawing blood.

  “I will be back, once I have something to show you. I promise.”

  I think that I hear footsteps walking away which allows me to breathe out a sigh of relief. He’s gone at last which is perfect. I need him far away from me… mostly because my heart is aching like crazy, the love has come flowing back and it hurts. I keep closing off and then opening wide as soon as he returns. He unlocks the flood gates and leaves me a mess. I might have to ask him to leave and never come back to make it easier for me.

  “Go to bed,” I tell myself quietly. “Forget about him. Don’t think again.”

  But of course he’s still in my brain even as I take myself over to the bedroom and I collapse onto the sheets. The tears fully flow down my face. Why the fuck is he here? Why does he have to keep ruining me? I almost hate him for it. If I didn’t love him so much, then I would. I would despise him.

  Now we’re going to have to be with one another again at some point to have the adult conversation that I have wanted to avoid for such a long time. It’s going to kill me to see him, to sit with him, to talk with him, and to know that I haven’t ever been enough for him.

  Chapter Twelve

  Tony

  I lie in my bed, staring up at the ceiling, wondering what has happened to my life. It’s been a mess for a long time, so there isn’t anything new in that department, but this is off the scale crazy. This is a new level. To learn that when I was here earlier in the year, not only did I steal Natasha’s virginity without even knowing about it, I also put a baby in her belly. I’ve had the start of a child growing for months and not know about it.

  Would things have been different if I had known? Would I have still slept with Natasha if I’d known that it was her first time? Would I have changed the way that things happened between us? I’m honestly not sure. I know that we almost slept together for the first time when we were younger, and we made it all special then, but I didn’t expect her to hold onto her virginity for all those years. That’s crazy, isn’t it?

  And what about the pregnancy? If I’d known how would it have changed things? I had to be in England to look after my father, I don’t think I would change being with him for the last six months of his life. It’s better than him being alone. But now I don’t know if that’s where I should have been.

  All I can be sure of is that I need to take action now. I spent a lot of my life without my mom, and I don’t want my child to be without his father. I think I’m having a boy, I didn’t ask that most important question, but I’m pretty sure that I heard her say ‘he’ at one point. I don’t want my boy to be without a dad. I want to do better than what my parents did for me, and what Natasha’s parents did for her as well. I want us to work it out somehow so we can be the most incredible parents possible. Whether we are together or not.

  No, scratch that. I want to be with her. I came back with the intention of being with Natasha and I stick with that. I have always only wanted to be with her and no one else, so that isn’t a decision made because she’s having my baby. But that does make it much more important that I prove myself to her and we give it a shot. We can be a family. Me, her, and the baby. It’s a picture that I love more than I thought I would. I never really thought of myself becoming a father any time soon, but it’s happened now. It’s too late to be worried. It’s time to make it right. It’s time to get my sorry ass out of my bed and to start the process of making things right.

  Walking away last night was the right thing to do at the time, but now I need action.

  I pace up and down my house for a while, drinking enough coffee to sink a horse, racking my brains as I do. What is the best way for me to communicate with Natasha without annoying her further? How can I get her to hear me? I don’t have her cell phone number so I can’t directly call or message her, and this isn’t the sort of thing that I can contact her over social media about. I might have to do the old fashioned thing of writing her a letter. I’m sure that’s cheesy as hell, she might even rip it up and destroy all of my effort, but it’s the only answer that I can think of. It’s a way that I can get all of my feelings out in a proper way, and she might have to take the time to really hear it. She can take the time to really understand every word. It can’t result in a million and one misunderstandings and subsequent arguments. It will have to be processed.

  I search the house for pen and paper which isn’t the easiest thing to find since it’s not something I use all the time. Once I do, I take a seat at the kitchen table and think. And think, and think, and think. The words aren’t coming easily. Writing this letter feels a bit unnatural, I don’t know how to get my feelings out this way.

  “Just start writing,” I tell myself aloud seriously. “Write from the heart.”

  Dear Natasha… Okay, that isn’t much, but it’s a start. It’s better than a blank page for sure.

  I know that you are having trouble trusting me, and I understand why. From your perspective, I just left. I upped and ran away without an explanation which was wrong of me. There has been many a time that I should have explained it to you, and I didn’t, which I deeply regret because I think it’s affected your opinion of me.

  My father was sick. That’s why I left in such a hurry. I panicked when I got the call that he was in hospital after an accident, and that he was in a bad shape. I selfishly didn’t think about anyone but him and my need to get back to see him. It’s been just me and him for such a long time and I didn’t want him to be alone.

  At home, the days went by quickly as I took care of him, tried to run the business for him, and keep on top of things… which I did right up until the day that he died. A death which shocked me to the core.

  I’m sorry, I don’t know if this sounds like I’m making excuses for my behavior which isn’t the case. I’m just trying my best to make you see why I haven’t behaved properly. I haven’t done you right, ever.

  I take a deep sigh and read over what I have written. The words have started flowing now and it feels good. I don’t know if it will make any sense to Natasha, but it’s better than saying nothing.

  I thought about you a lot when I was in England though, all the time and I’m honest on that to my core. I wish that I could have had a way to contact you to explain at the time, so we wouldn’t be in this mess now.

  But that isn’t the only reason why I thought about you. It’s because I love you. I always have done ever since high school. You were always the one who got away. I thought that I didn’t have any control over things when I was young and me and my dad left for England. I guess I just assumed that we couldn’t be together because we were torn apart, but as soon as I saw you again at Kayla’s party, I knew that I hadn’t ever gotten over you.

  I wanted that to be our fresh start. I didn’t want it to be the new chapter in our drama. No, not our drama. It isn’t you, is it? It’s always been me. I’m the one who’s caused it all.

  I am sorry, and this time I’m going to do what I said and prove it to you. I might have my father’s business in the UK, but I’m not leaving to go back there. I don’t know what I will do with it, but I’m here. I have a place here, I am putting down roots, this is where I want to be. This is where I wanted to be before I found out about the baby, but of course that need has intensified now. I want to be in our child’s life.

  Yes, it was a shock at first, but in a good way. There isn’t any one in the world I would rather have a baby with than you. You’re the love of my life and I’m over the moon.

  I can’t push things with you, I know that. I don’t deserve that. You might not feel the same way about me as I feel for you. You might not love me like I love you, and that is something I will have to come to terms with, but I would still like to be the best father that I could be. I would still like to be in our child’s life.

  I am going to write my number at the bottom of this letter and then
when you are ready you can come to me. I shouldn’t have tried to push myself on you last night, you were right, later at night when I have had a couple of drinks, it wasn’t the best time to talk about it. I will wait for you.

  Thank you for reading through this letter, I appreciate it a lot. I hope to speak to you soon.

  As I sign the letter and write my number at the bottom, I feel emotionally drained. I really hope this is enough because I’ve put everything out there for her in the only way that I can. This is me, giving her my heart.

  I sink just one more cup of coffee for a bit of caffeine courage, and I head outside to make the journey to Natasha’s place. When Tara gave me the address, I was shocked to know that she lives in the rougher end of town, but I suppose if she’s on her own, working as much as she can to pay rent, that’s all she can afford.

  I hope she will let me help her out at some point because financial assistance is certainly something that I can offer her. Though I won’t be able to until she allows me to, so I’m going to have to try and be patient. Patience isn’t my strongest quality and as I drive over to her place, irritation racks all the way through me. I want everything to just happen at the speed of light. I want us to be at the happy ever after. I want this to be there already… but that isn’t my choice. I need to find a way to be okay with everything as it is.

  “You can’t do anything yet,” I remind myself. “You can’t swoop in and save the day. That isn’t how this works… especially since you’re the one who created all the issues in the first place.”

  I pull up the car near her place and look at it for a moment. This definitely isn’t the place that I want my child raised. I want him and his mother to be so much safer and happier. That’s what this letter is for. An olive branch to extend outwards, to see if we can find some common ground to start with.

  With a deep sigh, I step out of the car and head towards the house. Once at the front door, I listen in for just a moment. I’m pretty sure that I can hear movement inside and all I want to do is reach out and knock. The temptation to see her is far too much. But I can’t. I need to consider what she needs, and that isn’t me harassing her further. This letter will have to do all of the talking for me.

 

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