Heart of Hope: Books 1-4

by Williams, Ajme

  So, I was glad that she got the message and stayed in her lane, not giving her two cents about the case or what I should do. That’s what I told myself as the days dragged by and Tessa was her perfect wonderful self to Maisie, and coolly friendly to me. I had to remind myself this was what I wanted when I’d come in from my morning routine and see her sleeping, one long lovely leg sticking out from the covers. I was now having to jerk off again in the shower, usually thinking of that leg wrapped around my hips while I fucked her.

  I had to tell myself I was better off with Tessa not taking time to talk to me after Maisie went to bed like she used to, because when she did, I was always entranced by her intellect and humor. But God, how I missed our conversations.

  When my lawyer said that it was possible to speed up the case, and that perhaps we’d have a decision mid-fall, I was both relieved and disappointed. That made no sense until I realized that my disappointment had to do with ending my arrangement with Tessa.

  “Fuck!” I hit the steering wheel of the car as I drove home from work. All day as I dealt with a vendor, a treadmill mechanic, and an instructor who let her teaching certification lapse––forcing me to find a replacement for her classes––thoughts of Tessa distracted me. It was probably guilt, but somewhere deep down I worried it was more than that. I missed Tessa’s warmth and humor towards me. I hated that she didn’t feel she could talk to me, not just about Maisie’s custody but anything. I wanted us to be like we had been. Preferably, the time we were friends with benefits, but if not that, then friends. For a moment, I wondered what Tessa would say if I told her I didn’t like how things were between us. How I missed her.

  I shook my head, knowing she was done with me. I hurt her one too many times. I’d told her I didn’t deserve her. She hadn’t believed it, but now she knew I was right. What I needed to do was cut her loose as soon as I could so she could find happiness and pursue her own goals. Maybe she’d even find a good man who would treat her better.

  First, I had to get through this custody case. That made me think of the week Maisie was going to spend with Veronica. How would Tessa and I be able to live under the same roof with all this distance between us? Thankfully, that visit wasn’t scheduled for a few weeks, as apparently Leo would be out of town and they decided to wait until he’d be there.

  I arrived home and prepared myself emotionally to enter a home that on the surface looked happy and normal, but underneath was mostly a sham.

  “Daddy!” At least Maisie was glad to see me.

  I scooped her up. “How was your day?”

  “Good. Tessa and I went to a place where I made a dragon.”

  Tessa appeared in the kitchen doorway, looking guarded as usual. “Maisie, why don’t you go get your dragon to show your dad?”

  Maisie wriggled in my arms to get down. “I want to show you.”

  I set her down and watched as she shot off toward her room.

  When she was gone, Tessa said, “She asked if she was moving to Veronica’s today.”

  “What?” I followed her in the kitchen where she took a chicken out of the oven. “What did you say?”

  “I told her she needed to talk to you about that.” She glanced over her shoulder. “That’s not for me to talk to her about.”

  I wasn’t sure if she was being snarky or not.

  “Is Veronica telling her that?”

  Tessa started cutting the chicken. “I don’t know. I don’t think so. I think she overheard something.”

  “Does … does she want to go?” I didn’t want to hear the answer, but I had to know.

  Tessa stopped what she was doing and looked at me. It was the first time since our fight that her expression showed something other than wariness.

  “No, she doesn’t. She likes visiting, but she doesn’t want to move there.”

  I scraped my hands over my face. “Did she seem nervous?”

  Tessa’s face returned to wary. “Dylan, you were clear that the custody issue was one I needed to stay out of, so I stayed out of it. You should talk to her if you have questions.”

  “Are you going to be mad at me forever?” I had no right to be pissed at her attitude, but I suppose because she was there, she was the one who was going to get my surly mood.

  She stopped and slowly turned. “What do you want, Dylan? I’m doing my best to give you want you asked; a fake wife to make you look good, without all the emotional entanglements. I’m staying out of your business and babysitting your daughter … and you’re still upset.”

  “You’re not a baby—”

  “Yes, I am.” She put the chicken on plates, and then pulled another pan out of the oven with roasted potatoes. “You want what you had before except you want people to think we’re a family now. That’s what I’m doing.” She put potatoes on each plate.

  “Are you unhappy?” For some reason that bothered me. I hated that I was making her miserable after all she was doing for us.

  “Look Daddy!” Maisie came into the kitchen. “It’s a dragon.”

  Maisie held up a plaster pink and purple dragon with glitter.

  “I painted it. Do you like it?”

  I squatted down and studied the figure. “It’s beautiful. You did that?”

  She grinned. “Yep. Tessa said we can go back and I can make another one for Mommy’s house, because this one might break if I put it in my suitcase.”

  I kept the smile on my face. “That’s a good idea.”

  “Maisie, can you put your dragon away? It’s time to eat,” Tessa said.

  “Can it eat with us?”

  I stood. “He might get in the way.”

  “He won’t. He’ll be good.” Maisie clutched the dragon to her, and little bits of glitter sparkled on her shirt.

  “Tessa asked you to put him back. He’ll be there when we read stories tonight. I bet he’ll like that.”

  Maisie seemed to think on that and then rushed off to put her dragon away. Tessa passed me to put the plates on the table.

  When she came back to the kitchen, I reached out and took her arm. “Hey. I appreciate everything you’re doing for me.”

  “And Maisie,” she said, looking at my hand on her arm and then up to my face.

  I realized then that in her mind, all this was for Maisie, not for me. I was okay with that. Despite how she felt about me, at least she felt I was the better parent for Maisie.

  “I like being your friend, Tessa. I miss that. But I’m exactly as I told you before,” I said referring to the first night we had sex on my couch. I saw the starry-eyed woman who wanted a fairy tale. “I’m not a good bet for the long run.”

  She nodded. “Yes. You’ve told me many times.”

  And there it was again; hurt in her eyes.

  I sighed. “I bet you wish you’d never seduced me.”

  She looked up at me, and for the first time, I noted how tired and pale she looked. I frowned. “Are you okay? You look—”

  “Just tired. It’s been a long day.” She extricated her arm from my hand and finished bringing the food to the table.

  The rest of the evening went as the ones before it had; playing with Maisie, my giving her a bath and reading to her in bed, but this time, instead of hiding in my office until Tessa went to bed, I sought her out to talk. I found her in bed. She wasn’t reading as I thought she did, but instead looked like she was sleeping. It seemed too early to sleep, but maybe she and Maisie had a long day.

  “Tessa.”

  “Hmm?” Sleep filled her voice.

  “Nothing. Get some sleep.”

  “Night.”

  I shut the door and went to my office. I sat at my desk reminding myself that I was getting exactly what I’d asked for. So why was I miserable? Why did my chest ache every time I looked at Tessa?

  21

  Tessa

  Dylan was giving me an emotional whiplash. He’d been clear from the beginning what he wanted; a fake wife. He wanted the court to see a happy family, but in reality, I was
still just the babysitter. A nanny. But when I gave him that, he seemed annoyed. Like he wanted something more from me. Granted, we didn’t have long talks anymore, but spending time with him only made my heart yearn for him and since he wasn’t going to reciprocate, it seemed safer to avoid anything that made me love him more than I already did.

  Instead, I focused on Maisie. I loved caring for her. My days with her were fulfilling––nearly enough to make up for the sadness of not being able to love Dylan. I’d agreed to play the role, so I couldn’t be upset at him for not wanting more.

  Maisie’s weeklong visit wasn’t for two weeks, but she did have a weekend trip this week while Leo was gone. Veronica and her driver picked Maisie up on Friday morning, giving me a rare day to myself. I’d made plans with Allison and Corrine to go out that night, and I planned a lunch with Mrs. Anderson on Saturday, all in an attempt to avoid having to spend time alone with Dylan.

  Because I was fatigued a lot lately and noticed that I hadn’t had my period, I decided to take advantage of my free time to see the doctor. I’d never been on the pill before, but I noted that most of what I was feeling—depressed, upset stomach, breast tenderness—was listed as possible side effects. What concerned me was that I hadn’t had a period.

  “Any chance you’re pregnant?” Dr. Layman asked as I sat on the exam table.

  I quirked a brow. “Not if the birth control works.” God. If I was pregnant, I don’t know what Dylan would do.

  She looked at my information on the EMR system. “But you’ve been having sex.”

  “I have, but not in a while.”

  “We should do a pregnancy test.”

  What? “I’m on the pill to not get pregnant. Isn’t the effectiveness nearly a hundred percent?”

  “Yes. But if you missed one—”

  “I haven’t.”

  “Or had sex before its full effectiveness, you could be pregnant. It’s best to get the most likely and easiest to test reason out of the way.” She studied me. “I take it a pregnancy wouldn’t be a good thing.”

  “No. Not at this time.” Or any time where Dylan was concerned.

  “Well, let’s test, and if it’s not that we’ll explore other options.”

  I nodded, but I had a sickening feeling what the results would be. She handed me a pregnancy test stick and sent me to the bathroom.

  Ten minutes later, she entered the exam room, and I could tell by the look on her face that my life was about to get even more complicated.

  My eyes filled with tears.

  She looked at me with sympathy. “There are options.”

  I looked at her in surprise. “I’m going to have it.” There was no question of that. My tears weren’t over what I’d do. They were over all the potential me and this baby could have with Dylan, but wouldn’t because he was adamant that he didn’t want me or a baby.

  “The father will be upset?” she asked.

  “I don’t know actually, but he … well …” I didn’t know how to explain the complicated relationship with Dylan.

  “Stop taking the pills—”

  A worry grew. “Will they have hurt the baby?”

  “Chances are, no. From now on, you’ll take prenatal vitamins. You can have normal activity, although avoid anything too strenuous. Sex is fine.”

  I scoffed. Like that was going to happen. “How far along am I?”

  “Based on when you reported your last period, it appears you’re six or seven weeks. We’ll schedule a sonogram to get a better sense.”

  I was in a daze when I left the doctor’s office. I knew I needed to tell Dylan, but didn’t know how. A part of me was angry that he’d probably not be happy. This child was his and deserved to have all the love Maisie did, even if I didn’t. As I thought that, a new concern arose; what if he fought for sole custody of this baby? I knew he was a good father, and I wouldn’t ever keep the baby from him. But watching him deal with Veronica, I learned what he was willing to do to get his way. He’d hired a PI to get dirt on his ex. I had no dirt in my past, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t use things in my life against me. I didn’t have money or a job. I hadn’t finished my graduate program yet. He could even say I seduced him or tricked him.

  When I parked the car in the driveway, I put my head back on the headrest and closed my eyes, feeling the ramifications of how much more complicated my life was now. All because I loved my neighbor and his daughter. I was starting to see why Dylan was so love-phobic. Love hurt.

  I carried on that weekend, seeing my friends, having seltzer water that I led my friends to believe was spiked with vodka so they wouldn’t guess at my condition. The next day I had lunch with Mrs. Anderson, who encouraged me to finish school and not wait because of the custody suit.

  “It’s wonderful how supportive you are of your husband, but I’ve taught a long time and I’ve seen many children go through that. Sometimes it takes years, and you don’t want to put off your degree that long,” she’d said.

  Years? She was right. I couldn’t wait years. At the same time, if Dylan and I didn’t work out, I’d need a job. I could work as a teacher with my bachelors. I’d just need to take the test to get my certificate. I wouldn’t get paid as much as with my masters, but maybe that would have to wait.

  I dreaded Saturday night when I had no plans, but Dylan texted me to say that he had to go to one of his out-of-town gyms to deal with something and wouldn’t be home until late. I wondered if he was avoiding me like I was him.

  Maisie came home Sunday afternoon, and I still hadn’t told Dylan. With her home, I didn’t feel like I could say anything, because I didn’t want her to witness a bad scene if Dylan didn’t take it well. I’d even started talking myself into believing that the test was wrong. Until I had the sonogram, I wouldn’t know for sure, so I could wait. The test was scheduled the week Maisie would be at her mother’s. That wasn’t too long to wait.

  As it turned out, the time came quickly. On Friday as I helped Maisie pack for the weeklong visit to stay with her mom, I worried about how I’d survive the weekend, much less the following week, with things strained between me and Dylan, and the stress of keeping my secret until I had the sonogram. I decided a visit to my parents for the weekend was the perfect solution.

  I called Dylan, letting him know and suggesting that I could drive Maisie to her mother’s since I was going that direction. He agreed, and I wondered if maybe he was relieved that I wouldn’t be underfoot.

  I called Veronica to let her know I could bring Maisie to Manhattan, saving her the trip.

  “Oh, that’s perfect. I have some errands to run. Thank you, Tessa.”

  By noon, Maisie and I were on the road, listening to her silly songs CD and singing at the top of our lungs. It made me think how Dylan would play his guitar and the two of them would sing everything from old folk tunes to current day hits while Maisie took her bath. I’d miss this when my marriage to Dylan ended. Even with my own child on the way, I loved Maisie, and would feel the loss of her as much as I would of my own child.

  We arrived at Veronica and Leo’s Manhattan building, but Veronica wasn’t there.

  “I’m so sorry, Tessa,” she said when I called to let her know we arrived. “I’m stuck at my hairdresser’s and won’t be there for twenty minutes or so. I’ll call the doorman to let you in. Leo should be home soon as well. Do you mind?”

  “Not at all.” As crazy as my life had become, hanging with Maisie was what it made it all bearable.

  Ten minutes later, the doorman let us into their apartment. Like the hotel Dylan had taken me to on our honeymoon, the apartment was lush and large. It was decorated in mostly white, which didn’t seem conducive to raising a child. In looking around, there were no signs a child was ever there.

  “Do you have some toys here, Maisie?” I asked, thinking maybe we needed to send some of the ones she had from her room at home.

  “Yep. They’re in my room. Mommy and Papa Leo don’t like a mess in the house.”
r />   Hmm. They were those types.

  I followed her to her bedroom, which was probably Maisie’s dream come true. It had a bed with a canopy, a tent that looked like a castle, and lots of princesses and fairies that Maisie liked.

  “Wow, this is quite a room,” I said.

  “Mommy said I could do it anyway I wanted.”

  “It looks great.” I put her bag on the bed.

  “I’m hungry and thirsty.”

  I wasn’t sure if I should be making myself at home in Veronica and Leo’s apartment, but it was Maisie’s home too, and I was there taking care of her, so I followed her to the kitchen.

  “What do you want?” I asked as I entered the large kitchen with granite counters and restaurant grade appliances.

  “Cookies and milk.”

  I quirked a brow. “Does your dad know you eat that here?”

  “Mommy says what daddy doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

  Hmm. Not the best message, and yet, I’d snuck her a few sweets in the past.

  Maisie climbed up onto a stool in front of the breakfast bar as I hunted for cookies and a glass for milk. I found a packet of two small gourmet-looking chocolate chip cookies, and poured her a juice glass filled with milk, setting them in front of her.

  On the wall next to the breakfast bar, there was a little phone station, above which was a bulletin board. On it, a drawing Maisie had made was pinned. I was glad to see some evidence of Maisie in the home.

  Below it was a pile of envelopes and other papers. I hadn’t meant to snoop, but I noticed Maisie’s birth certificate underneath what looked like a passport.

  I picked up the passport and opened it to Maisie’s sweet face. “What’s this?”