Surrendered

by Monica James

  And that pisses me off.

  “Oh okay, so you have absolutely nothing to say? You don’t think sorry is in order for leaving me without a word, for worrying me sick, and allowing me to envision every gory scenario possible?”

  Jasper closes his eyes and clenches his jaw, but remains silent, which enrages me further.

  “How about, ‘Sorry, Ava, for getting kissed by every pair of lips in L.A.?’ Or how about, I’m sorry for coming home drunk, and on the arm of a girl who’s obviously in love with you!” I yell, storming towards him and poking him in the chest with my finger, probing him to answer me.

  Jasper shakes his head and takes a step back because I’m invading his personal space.

  He finally meets my eyes, and they look bloodshot and heavy.

  “I’m sorry! I’m a fuck up! Is that what you want to hear?” he asks, his hands spread out wide, emphasizing his point.

  “No! I want you to talk to me,” I reply furiously. “Tell me what the hell is going on with you!”

  When Jasper doesn’t reply, I explode.

  “Is this what you want?” I ask animatedly, pointing to his face.

  He looks at me, obviously puzzled by my comment. So I make myself brutally clear.

  “Being single, is that what you want? Do you like receiving kisses off of strange women, without having to worry about a pregnant girlfriend at home? Who, I might add, was waiting up for you like a fucking idiot! Because if that’s what you want, then tell me now. Because once this kid comes, things will change. We’ll change.”

  Saying my fears out loud makes them all the more real.

  “You don’t think I know that?” he yells, fisting his hair. “You don’t think I know that having this kid changes everything? I know that it will, and it scares the shit out of me. Every day I wake up and think to myself what a lowlife like me could possibly offer you and our child. I have no job, no money, no education. I’ve got nothing. I am nothing,” he admits, defeated, throwing his hands out to the side.

  “But I’m too selfish to give you up. You and our baby deserve better than a fucked up mess like me!”

  Tears begin streaming out of his eyes and my heart breaks, looking at the wounded man in front of me.

  I can’t allow him to think something which holds no truth.

  “You’re everything, Jasper. You’re our everything,” I whisper, trying to be strong.

  “No, I’m not. Everything I touch turns to shit, and the sooner you and me accept that, the better.”

  “That’s not true,” I rebuke, attempting to touch him, but he shrugs away from me.

  “Yes, it is,” he replies, wiping away his tears. “You’re just blinded by all this,” he says, flicking at his shirt.

  I take a step back, utterly offended. Surely he isn’t insinuating that I’m only with him because of his looks.

  When he doesn’t elaborate, I know he indeed is implying just that. Drunk or not, I won’t allow him to speak to me like some groupie.

  “You jerk! Unlike your Harem of Harpies, I actually love you for you. Not your looks, but for you, and for what’s in here,” I snap, whacking my hand against his heart. “I take the good and the bad. But sadly, the bad is totally running laps around the good at the moment!”

  Jasper looks down at me, and his constant silence angers me. I know this has to do with one woman, and in this moment, I hate her.

  “This pity party you’re throwing is turning you into a cynical asshole, just like your mother!”

  It’s out before I can stop myself. But I don’t apologize, because I mean every word if it.

  Jasper blows out a breath and interlaces his hands atop his head.

  “I can’t deal with this, Ava. This thing with you and my mom, it’s driving me crazy,” he confesses honestly.

  Finally! The truth! But I hate that he’s implying that I’m the one who had any part in her petty games.

  “There’s only a thing between us because she’s the Antichrist! If you’re going to have a go at anyone, I suggest you call her!” I yell at him, choking on my deep breaths.

  I know by the look on his face that Jasper is beat. He thought cutting his mom out of his life was going to be easy. He thought wrong.

  “Ava, I just want to go to sleep. I want to be alone tonight, okay? We’ll talk about this tomorrow,” he says, rubbing his temples.

  His comment hurts and stuns me. But for the first time in my life, I don’t want to be anywhere near him, so I happily comply.

  “Fine! See you when I see you. Sweet fucking dreams,” I snarl as I grab my keys and bag off the sofa.

  “No, I will see you tomorrow. We’ve still got to organize Seattle,” he says, walking towards me as I head for the front door.

  Slipping my strap over my shoulder, I spin to face him. “Yeah, about that, I’m busy. Have a nice trip.”

  “Ava, wait!” he says, latching onto my arm when he realizes I’m serious.

  “No, Jasper,” I answer, shrugging roughly out of his grip. “I want to be alone,” I snap sarcastically, using his words. However, I fail to add tonight, because at the moment, I’m not sure how long I need time away to think.

  Jasper can sense the gravity behind my words and steps back, hands raised in defeat.

  “Okay, fine, have it your way.” He sighs heavily and I storm out the front door without giving him a second glance.

  For once, he doesn’t follow me.

  For once, I don’t want him to.

  How did my life go from being perfect, to semi-perfect, to fucking apocalyptic before my eyes? It’s been about half a day since I’ve spoken to Jasper, and I already feel like I’m losing it.

  I’m lying in the middle of my bedroom floor, staring at my iPhone, willing it to ring. But it doesn’t, and it hasn’t since I started staring at it like five hours ago.

  This time I’m not going to give in and call, because I’m not at fault. I understand he’s got a lot on his plate, with finding out he’s going to be a dad, and this whole mess with his mom. But lashing out at me when all I’ve done is try and support him is not cool. I get we hurt the one we love, but Jasper acting this way is beyond being hurtful, it’s border lining on him pushing me away.

  That thought sends a tsunami of fear and panic through me, and I begin to re-evaluate if waiting for Jasper to call is the best decision after all.

  I thump my head on the carpet and decide I need a distraction. My eyes fall on the pile of brochures I received from Doctor Reger, and I decide now is the time to begin my education.

  So, who knew?

  Unborn babies can feel, see and hear.

  I place my hands on my belly, and a lone tear spills from the corner of my eye. If Jasper doesn’t want to be a part of our baby’s life, then I’ll raise this child the best I can.

  To hell with waiting for him to call. It’s not just me I have to think about anymore.

  I type out a short text because there’s no sugarcoating what has to be done.

  We need to talk

  Within a minute I receive a response.

  C u in ten

  Looking up at Jasper’s house usually gives me the warm and fuzzies. However, today is not one of those days.

  On the drive over here, I couldn’t stop thinking about his unusual brief reply. No smiley faces or kisses, or any sign of affection like usual.

  That thought almost has me reversing down the driveway like a bat outta hell. Instead, I take a deep breath and check my reflection in the rear view mirror, hoping I don’t look as nervous as I feel.

  Well, I don’t look nervous.

  I look more like shit.

  My eyes have sunken into my face and are terribly bloodshot, thanks to my lack of sleep. My mouth had dipped into a permanent frown, and when I attempt a smile, I resemble a deranged circus clown, so I settle on the frowning. My hair has seen better days, and as I peer down at my torn jeans and my baggy sweater, which is three sizes too big, I stop with the observation because it’s not
helping my nerves.

  With what little strength I have left, I exit my car and quickly ascend Jasper’s porch steps before I chicken out.

  As I’m about to knock, the door opens, and I look into the eyes of the one person who makes me feel alive, and my heart suddenly sinks.

  “Come in,” he says without a hello hug or kiss.

  He steps aside so I can brush past him, and I enter the house, deflated.

  Taking a seat on the sofa, I tuck myself into a small ball because suddenly, I feel chilled to the bone.

  He takes a seat near me and turns to look at me, but I can’t meet his eyes, because I know when I do, the hard resolve of me coming here will melt into nothingness.

  The silence is killing me, and the ticking of the wall clock is in sync with my beating heart.

  “Ava, I’m sorry,” Jasper finally says, breaking the silence.

  I nod, but still keep my eyes downcast.

  “I…” Jasper hesitates. “I’m so ashamed of myself. I let you down. I let our baby down.”

  This gets my attention, and I lift my eyes to meet his worn, exhausted ones.

  He looks how I feel, which is comforting, as I’m glad I’m not the only one who looks and feels like a big bag of shit.

  “Jasper, what’s going on with you? Please talk to me.” I try not to beg, but he can hear the angst in my voice.

  He reaches for my hand and squeezes it lightly. His usual warm hands are now freezing cold.

  “I love you, Ava. My life is nothing…” he pauses, then continues. “I’m nothing without you.”

  “I feel the same,” I whisper, relieved that he still loves me.

  “I want to be the best man I can for you. And I feel like I’m fucking failing,” he admits. I can hear the defeat in his voice.

  Since the night at the bar, a switch has been flipped, and I can’t flip it back.

  “I have no qualifications. I can’t go out there and get a fancy job, earning enough to support you. And the fact that I can’t support you the way that I want is eating me up inside,” he confesses sadly.

  “Jasper, I don’t need you to support me,” I say with conviction.

  “I know. But I want to provide for my family, and give you and our baby everything I never had.”

  I know this stems from his shitty childhood, and this is just another reason to hate his mom. Like I needed another reason.

  Jasper’s eyes search mine, and I know what he’s about to tell me next is going to suck.

  “I thought I could deal with my mom not being in my life, but I can’t, Ava. I just… I don’t know what it is. Call it some fucked up childhood need for acceptance, but I can’t just cut her out.”

  I bite my lip as I knew this was coming, but hearing him come clean, it just blows.

  “I know you and her don’t see eye to eye, but I need you both in my life to be happy. And I know how much of a pussy that makes me, but it’s the truth. I think about it every single minute of every single day. I’m thinking of ways that I can have you both in my life without losing either one of you.”

  I don’t know what to say. I feel slightly betrayed, but I understand it’s his mom, and at the end of the day, she’ll always share a connection with him that I won’t.

  “I don’t expect you to choose, Jasper. I never have.” I sigh.

  “I know, but she does,” he says sheepishly, as if he knows how lame that sounds.

  I bite my tongue from verbally bashing him.

  After a calming breath, I ask, “What does that say about her then, Jasper?”

  Jasper nods. “I know, Ava. I just—” He runs both hands down his face, overcome. “I don’t know what to do. I feel like I’m losing it. Piece by piece.”

  I hate to be Captain Obvious, but I question him anyway.

  “So, what happens now? She obviously hates my guts, and won’t quit trying to hook you up with Indie. How do you propose we work this?”

  Jasper meets my eyes, defeated. “I don’t know.”

  He doesn’t know.

  Is he shitting me? Is he really going to let his mom rule his life?

  Suddenly, I see red. I jump up like my pants are on fire. “I need to get out of here.”

  Jasper looks confused by my sudden movement. “What? Why? We haven’t finished talking.”

  “I’m done talking,” I spit.

  Jasper rubs his brow, totally crushed. “You wanted me to be honest with you, and now you punish me for it.”

  I choose to ignore him before I say something I regret, and storm towards the front door.

  “Ava!” Jasper says, latching onto my forearm.

  I pull my arm away, furious at him. “Don’t. I need to leave before I say something—” I don’t finish the sentence.

  “Before you what?” he presses. I see the conflict flickering behind his blue eyes.

  Conflict or not, he can go to hell!

  “Before I tell you what a spineless asshole you are!” I yell, my control slipping away.

  Now that the flood gates have opened, I can’t stop.

  “Jasper, your mom is a horrible person. I just wish you could see her the way I do.”

  Jasper opens his mouth, ready to rebuke, but I won’t let him.

  “I refuse to stand here and listen to you defend her, or tell me you don’t know what to do. Last I checked, she’s the one with the problem. She’s the one who can’t accept who you’ve chosen to be with. She’s not even in our lives, and she’s still causing problems because you can’t let it go!”

  I take a step forward and poke him in the chest.

  “But I’ll make it real easy for you. She can have you.” I snatch my hand away from his when he reaches for me.

  “Don’t you dare do this,” he begs.

  “Do what, Jasper? Be the man in the relationship? Well, someone has to be, because when it comes to your mom, you’re a scared little boy.”

  Jasper takes a step back and I know I’ve struck a nerve.

  “Have fun in Seattle.”

  “What? You’re not coming?” he asks, stunned.

  “No,” I reply curtly as I yank open the front door, ready to make my escape.

  But I stop in my tracks when I hear, “But I’ve organized a ticket for you.”

  I turn around, hand braced on the doorframe. “Give it to your mom.” And I storm off, slamming the door behind me.

  I haven’t spoken to Jasper for two whole days.

  My phone has been switched off as I’m afraid it might ring. But more importantly, I’m afraid it might not ring. Afraid of being afraid, I instruct my mom not to tell me if Jasper calls.

  And if by chance he does, she is to tell him that I’m not home, or I’m washing my hair, or I’m walking the dog—even though we don’t have dog. All the usual excuses used when trying to evade someone.

  I know I said some harsh things to Jasper, but do I regret them?

  No.

  The only thing I regret is not saying them sooner.

  I rub my belly, and the gesture is something I’ve found myself doing subconsciously over the past couple of days. What if this is it for Jasper and I? After everything we’ve been through, could this really be the end for us? That thought is one I don’t want to think about unless I have to.

  But I know Jasper, and I know he would never abandon his child. Whether he and I work or not, he’ll always be a constant presence in our child’s life.

  Throwing myself back against the sofa, I curl my legs underneath me, trying to focus on the random movie flickering on the TV.

  But I fail miserably.

  My eyes dart to my phone, which is sitting on the coffee table in front of me. Should I?

  With nothing left to lose, I reach for it, switching it on while holding my breath.

  It takes a minute or so to fire up, and when it does, I get inundated with message after message after message. The beeping sounds, until the next message overtakes it, and in the end, it just becomes a constant sea of beeps.
Finally it stops and I look at the screen, which tells me I have a zillion and one messages.

  Scrolling through the text messages, each one breaks my heart as they are all from Jasper, expressing how sorry he is, and how he fucked up. The more I read, the more desperate he becomes.

  At around the fifteenth message, I have to stop because my tears are clouding my vision.

  But I decide to torture myself further, and listen to the voice messages he has left. Hearing his deep, husky voice after so long, begging for forgiveness, tears me into two.

  Sobbing as I listen to message after message, I wish I had just left my phone on.

  The last message, which he left this morning, was just before he left for Seattle.

  “Baby, I’m—” Pause. “Fuck, Ava, please forgive me. Please, I—” and I can hear the catch in his voice. “I love you so much. Please just give me another chance. Please talk to me. I’m dying inside. Each unanswered call is etching away at my heart. I fucked up. I know that now, and I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I need it. I need you. Please just let me make it up to you.”

  The line goes dead and I drop my phone, covering my face with my shaking hands.

  How could I have been so stupid? This is what I do in times of crisis. I hide and cry.

  But no more.

  I reach for my phone, which has slipped in between the sofa cushions, and scroll through my address book and dial.

  She answers on the third ring. “Please tell me you’re coming.”

  “You bet. Just tell me when.”

  “Ava, I swear to Christ, your life sees more drama than a teenage girl’s diary,” V says, dumping her backpack onto the green carpet of the Edgewater Hotel.

  Letting out a small laugh, I hunt through my overnight bag, searching for the perfect outfit to knock Jasper’s socks off.

  “So how long does this festival go for?” I ask, pushing garments aside, unhappy with my findings.

  V plonks onto the bed beside me, spreading her arms out wide with her feet dangling off the edge.

  “Three days. The boys are on at 8:15 p.m.”

  Looking at the clock, which reads 3:47 p.m., I blow out a relieved breath. “Good. I can see Jasper before the show.”