by Eve Rabi
“Business,” I mutter a tad defensively, realizing he’s a little intimidated by the way I look. “It’s gonna be boring. I’d rather be with both of you any day.”
After a series of cuddles and hugs, I slip on my heels, kiss my baby a gazillion times, then tear myself away from my beloved boys. At the door, Reed and I face each other.
“Tomorrow,” I say, wondering if he’s going to give me a long, lingering kiss.
“Tomorrow,” he dittos, then opens the door for me to leave.
I smile to cover up my disappointment and turn around. Then to my delight, he smacks my ass as I walk past him.
Giggling, I skip away, the imprint of his hand still delightfully on my ass.
As I taxi myself to my business dinner, I think about my dress today – I never want to wear another pair of heels after today. I just want to dress like most moms do – sweat pants, baggy tops, sneakers, ponytail, and minimum makeup. Now that might sound drab and even frumpy to some people but hey, to me, that’s how I like to be. Then I wouldn’t give a damn when my child smears me with chocolate.
Even though I’m thrilled to have Reed and Wyatt in my life and I’m too happy to think of the future, in the back of my mind, a thought niggles – how the hell do I explain Reed and Wyatt to anyone?
My family, my friends, Damien, the FBI, who I believe no longer tails me, the paparazzi, who love taking shots of me, people who recognize me in the street. In no time, they will put the pieces together and realize that Reed was the one who saved me in Iraq, then that can of worms will be opened and ...
Quickly, I change the channels in my mind. Will handle that later. Right now, I am happy. Very happy.
***
Damien glares at his Rolex. “You’re forty-five minutes late. What the fuck?!”
“Sorry, sorry, sorry!” I say to Jake as I slide into a seat. “Got caught up in … stuff.”
“Stuff? You look high,” Damien spits as he glares at me.
“Do I?” I whip out my mirror from my bag and look at myself. A huge grin crosses my face. I’m high all right – because I just spent the day with my love and my beautiful baby. We lay on the couch in each other’s arms and when I left, he smacked my ass.
“You think this is a joke?”
“No, no, no, no!” I snap my mirror shut and put it away.
“Did you get here by cab?” Jake asks.
Shit! Didn’t think they’d notice me getting out of a cab. “Yeah, my car was … eh … it was making a funny sound.”
“Really?” Damien asks. “It’s a new Merc. It shouldn’t.”
I try to change the subject. “Did you guys order?”
Damien talks throughout dinner, but my mind continuously drifts.
“Megan?”
“Huh?” I look up into Jake’s questioning eye.
“Sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I say. “Whatever Damien says.”
Jake puts down his napkin. “Really? You’re okay with the nudity?”
“Nudity?” I whirl around to look at Damien. “What nudity?”
He throws his hands in front of him. “Beauty is Me – they upped their offer to three million dollars; how can you pass on that? Three million?!”
In a voice full of cold control, I say, “We agreed on it, Damien.”
“So?”
“So … why the hell …?”
“Lose the attitude, will you?” Damien warns, his eyes hooded.
I sit back in my chair. Now, more than ever, I know that if I pose nude, Reed will have a problem with it, and for Christ’s sake – I have a child!
“Damien!” Jake says. “Relax, will you?”
I fall silent and sit deep in my chair.
“Let’s just think about it, shall we?” Jake says. “We can talk about it another time.”
Neither of us answers.
“Okay?” Jake persists.
I nod.
“Okay then, I’ll say goodnight. Bailey is waiting up for me.”
Oh yeah, Jake, I have something to tell you. Bailey is fucking Damien, and Lucas … he may not be yours. Sorry, Jake.
“Goodnight, Jake,” I say. I just don’t have the heart to hurt him.
Damien and I ride home in stony silence.
Chapter Seven
6 AM. Barely able to contain my excitement, I kick off the covers and dart into the shower. Three minutes later, I’m throwing on clothes. I can’t wait to be with my boys again. But first, I need to get rid of something. Something I no longer need. I round up all medication and flush them down the toilet. No more sleeping pills, headache pills, uppers, nothing. Won’t be needing them ever again.
So as not to wake Damien, I tiptoe around the house, roll my car out of the garage, then start it.
Reed and Wyatt are awake and lying in bed when I arrive at the apartment. Well, Wyatt is
Wide-awake, while Reed is battling to keep his eyes open.
“He’s been up since five!” Reed complains.
I take a grinning Wyatt from him, ready to be mom again. “Go to sleep. I’ll take care of this precious little angel.”
“Precious angel,” Reed mutters as he rolls over. Before I can leave the room, he’s snoring again.
Two hours later, Reed awakens and lifts the bedcovers for me. Without a second invitation, I melt into his warm and inviting arms.
“I was teaching him to call me mommy,” I breathe into his broad chest.
“Did he?” he whispers, squeezing me to him, his lips on my shoulder.
“Not yet.”
We move apart to stare at each other. “I missed you, Megan,” he whispers. “I’ll be so mad if I wake up and find this is just a dream.”
“Gosh, Reed, if I wake up and find this is a dream, I’ll cry me a river.”
“No!” He shakes his head vigorously. “No more crying. No more!”
“Okay. No more crying.”
I learn that Reed starts work as a doctor in a medical clinic on Monday.
“Monday? Well, today is Friday. Let’s have some fun before you start work.”
“Good idea.”
We make plans and finally, we decide on a picnic at the beach.
Problem is, I have prior engagements and places I need to be today. Hurriedly, I SMS both Damien and Dex that I am not feeling well and will be spending the day with Maya. Then I SMS Maya and ask her to cover for me.
Without waiting for a reply from anyone, I quickly turn off the phone. Dangerous, irresponsible, but I just don’t give a fuck right now. I’m like a reckless teenager.
The day with my two precious boys is a dream come true. We swim, hug, and talk for hours, and it’s like we never parted.
When we get home, the sun is setting. After we bathe our darling offspring and put him to bed, it’s time for drinks on the balcony. We sit next to each other, watching the partial sunset, holding hands, a lot of times in silence, just savoring the magical moments.
When it’s time for me to leave, I rack my brain, trying my best to conjure up excuses for Damien, but I know I could ruin everything if I am too hasty. Reluctantly, I extract myself from the arms of my darling Reed and make my way to the cold and unwelcoming place I call home.
As I drive home, I’m secretly bothered; Reed is holding back. There’s a lot of hugging and touching, but he’s made no sexual moves on me. Why? In the past, he couldn’t keep his hands off me. Maybe it is too soon. After all, it’s only been two days since our reunion. Patience, I guess.
***
When I get back home, I’m greeted by a pissed off Damien and a worried Jake.
“Where the fuck have you been?” Damien snarls. “Jake’s been waiting here for more than an hour! You’re not answering your fucking phone!”
“Oh, shit!” I fumble in my bag for my phone and realize I forgot to turn it on. “I’m sorry, I …”
I turn to Jake. “I’m so sorry I’m late.”
Jake looks at me with pursed lips, and I thin
k he would have told me off had it not been for Damien’s naked fury.
“Are you retarded or something?” Damien asks, taking a step toward me.
“Take it easy, Damien,” Jake says.
“I’m sorry,” I repeat. “I’m sorry.”
“Well, because you’ve wasted our time, just sign the fucking papers,” Damien says.
“Papers?” I look at Jake. “What papers?”
“The contract for Endigo, Megan. You’ve forgotten that now? Aw, for fuck’s sake!”
Jake hands me the papers.
I scan through them and suddenly, I don’t want to sign any more contracts. “Damien … I’m … look, we already have enough money. I don’t think I …” When I see the fury on his face, I lose my nerve.
“There you go again. Did I ask what you think? Sign the fucking papers!”
I look at Jake, a helpless look on my face. “Jake, I don’t know. I’m so tired, drained. I want a break. I mean, I’ll honor my existing contracts and stuff but please … no more new ...”
Damien strides up to me. “Say that again.” His voice is daring.
It’s an effort, but I manage to look him in the eye. “I don’t wanna do it, Damien, especially not a topless commercial. Not anymore. I need a break. It’s been grueling so far and I really ...” I give a long sigh. “Please!”
Damien’s jaw juts. “Jake,” he says in a cold, controlled voice, “I need to … talk to my wife. Alone.”
I tense up at the thought of being alone with Damien when he is so furious. Jake looks at me, looks at Damien, then reluctantly gathers his stuff and leaves.
The moment the door closes, Damien glares at me so hard, I flinch.
“What? I have a right to make decisions here, Damien. In the last couple of months, I’ve worked like a Trojan. I’ve attended events, I’ve done photo shoots, and I’ve fulfilled all that I’ve signed up for.”
With hooded eyes, he watches me.
“The book and the movie – they’ll have to wait. But, I’m not taking on any more –”
“Since when do you have a spine?”
True. I’m never this cocky with Damien. But today, I don’t care.
“I’m not signing it, Damien.”
“Really?”
I shake my head. “It …”
Damien lunges at me, grabs a fistful of my long hair, and twists my face to his. His signature move when he wants to control me.
“I’m sick of you, bitch! You’re miserable, pathetic, and I’m tired of putting up with your shit.”
“Then … I … will … leave,” I say, blinded with agony, but standing my ground.
“Leave?” A look of surprise crosses his face. “Leave?”
I say nothing.
“You want to leave me?” He shoves me so hard, I hurtle across the room and slam against the wall, then fall, hitting my face against the jutting corner of the fireplace on the way down.
“Go! Get the fuck out of here! Let’s see what man will put up with a broken bitch like you, you nut job. You’re fucked up, damaged!”
As I lie on the floor, I taste my blood, my face growing numb on one side. In spite of my injuries, I’m smiling inside – I just got my freedom back. The assault was a small price to pay.
Slowly, I get up, stagger to my room, and throw stuff in a bag.
Damien rushes inside my room and yanks the suitcase out of my hands. “You will take nothing from here. All this is mine! I paid for it. You go – you go with SHIT!”
Quickly, I pick up my handbag and hurry out of the house.
“Don’t you ever come crawling back, you fucking … fucking …”
When I hear something crashing behind me, I race to my car. He must have thrown a glass or something. With shaking hands, I start the car and as I reverse, Damien runs after the car and kicks in the driver’s window, missing my face by inches. Glass rains down on me. I scream, then floor the gas.
As he disappears from my sight, I’m smiling even more. Bruised, bleeding, covered in glass and shaking, yet, I’m smiling like I’ve won the lottery.
Freedom does that sometimes.
***
Hoping to remove all the broken glass out of my hair and clothes, I drive to Maya’s house.
“Oh my God!” she says when she sees me. “You have to call the cops.”
“Don’t bother,” I say as I make my way to her bathroom. “Damien is the police, Maya. The last time he smacked me around, I called the cops and guess who turned up – all his mates. When they left, they were shaking his hand, giving me threatening looks, and saying things like I could get jail time for false accusations and shit. I’m free now – that’s all that matters. I don’t need clothes or anything from that house. I just wanna move on.”
As I now sport a black eye, I realize with disappointment that I can’t go to Reed, which is a pity. I spend the night at Maya’s, all the while toying with the idea of telling Maya about Reed and Wyatt being in America. But, I lose my nerve.
However, the next morning, over coffee, I blurt it out.
“What?!” Maya jerks upright, spilling both our coffees. “Megan, you … you stay away from him! Don’t you dare have anything to do with him! You hear me?”
“Maya!”
“Megan, listen to me! You will go to JAIL! Understand?”
“But … but … but Maya, what about my baby?” Her reaction is so disappointing, I feel like crying.
“Megan …” She takes a deep breath and appears to struggle for calm. “Say you want to have a life with this … this man, how do you explain him to everyone when his face was plastered all over the papers, all over television stations throughout the world? They called him your rescuer. Now, he suddenly turns up and you move in with him? That’s so suss.”
“We’ll … we’ll leave America, go away and …”
“You are not out of the woods yet, Megan. Don’t mess this up by looking back. Walk away from him. Now!”
It just hits me that she never mentions the baby. That tells me she doesn’t believe that there is a baby. Still thinks I’m a fruitcake. Hurt by her words, her lack of support, I get up, snatch my bag, and storm toward the exit.
“Where are you going?”
“I dunno, Maya, anywhere I can get some support. You’re my sister – you should support me. At least that’s what I thought.” I turn to the door.
She runs ahead and blocks the door. “Megan, he’s a terrorist! Iraq is over. In spite of everything, you made it! You’re alive. You’re here. You have to move on, forget that horrible chapter or you will spend the rest of your life behind bars. Do you want that? Huh? I don’t want that, Megan. You think you’re the only one who suffered when you were captured? I suffered too. Mom, Dad, Ben, and Carl – they all suffered too. Our lives were on hold and for the first time now, everything is running smoothly, and now you tell me you want to go to this … this terrorist and some … baby … when …”
“Some baby? Don’t call him that, Maya!”
She falls silent. When I see tears running down her cheeks, my anger dissipates and I simmer down.
“Megan, I … I just want this whole thing to be over. Please. Please! Please!”
I nod slowly. “Okay, okay,” I say. “Just give me time and I will work it out. I’m sorry. I really am.” Quickly, I turn and walk out.
I have no choice but to go to Reed.
***
Before I visit Reed, I stop at the mall. Hiding behind huge, dark glasses, I shop for clothes and toys for Wyatt, clothes for Reed, food, and a few items of clothing for myself. This is so exciting and suddenly, I realize I haven’t spent any money since I arrived in the U.S. Damien did all the time, but I had no desire to shop.
With a satisfied smirk and feeling high on freedom, I wheel my trolley to the cashier and hand my card to her. After swiping it, she turns to me and whispers, “Sorry, ma’am, but this card has been cancelled.”
I stare at her in disbelief. “But … I did not … I me
an, I have thousands of dollars in there.”
“Sorry, ma’am. You have another card?”
Damien, the motherfucker!
“No, I’m sorry.”
After giving back the clothes and toys and food, with dejected shoulders, I make my way back to Reed’s, wondering how to explain the black eye without alarming him.
His look of joy at seeing me turns into horror when he sees my face.
“I tripped and fell,” I say as I brush past him to pick up my baby.
He stares at me. “Did he do that?”
“No. I fell. Clumsy me.”
We stare at each other over our son’s head.
“You are not going back,” he finally says, his lips thinning.
I nod and bury my face in my baby’s warm body. “This is heaven to me. I want to stay, forever, Reed.”
And I want to have sex with you every day and sometimes twice a day cos I haven’t been laid in months.
That night, we fall asleep in each other’s arms. Again, no sex. A lot of hugging and kissing, but to my disappointment, he doesn’t attempt to make love to me. To say I’m disappointed is putting it less than mildly. But somewhere in the recesses of my mind, I suspect Reed is intimidated by me and my appearance these days.
Main thing is – I have my freedom and I’m living the biggest dream of all – living with my two precious boys, in utter freedom.
When I think back on my journey – my miserable and eventful time as a POW, my regimented military life, my empty life before my military life, my painful life after I left Iraq … who the hell was I? How did I manage to live such a shallow existence – a life without purpose?
Then I look to my left and I see Reed, and tears fill my eyes. He’s a reason to live – a dream come true. I look to my right and I see my baby’s toothless grin, and I realize he’s my pot of gold at the end of my blemished rainbow. How blessed am I that I could give birth to joy. He truly is joy personified.
Sometimes, it’s like someone threw open the blinds and let the sunshine in. I hear myself humming, I hear my unrestrained laughter, and life … it just couldn’t get better. Finally, I am happy.
Chapter Eight
Propped by our elbows, we lie side by side, facing each other in the park and chatting as Wyatt dozes in his stroller.