“Melanie and I were out of town for the holidays.”
She yelped as if she were in physical pain, her fists wound tightly in the sheets. The pained expression on her face was such that she could have been my wife and I’d just told her I was having an affair. It would have made me angry had it not been so pitiful. I scratched my head, sighing as I pushed forward.
“Listen, Vanessa, what you did was wrong, but I can’t regret that now.” I glanced down at my son. The love I felt when I looked at his face sent my head spinning. I might regret her, but I could never regret him, and I’d accepted that I wouldn’t have him without her.
I thought about how terrible it would have been had I grown up with my parents despising each other. I couldn’t allow for my son to grow up that way. I took a deep breath and made a concession—for my son. “Do you remember when you came to my office that day? When you asked us to be friends? Can we try that?”
She froze, gasping, before turning on her side and raising herself up on her elbow. “You want to be friends?” she asked, dubious, but clearly excited by the idea.
I nodded, forcing a very meek, halfhearted smile.
“And see where it goes?”
I groaned and threw my head back exasperation.
“No, Vanessa.” I once again was amazed at how irrational and immature she was.
“Look, I need you to understand something.” I didn’t know why I felt compelled to tell her, but maybe if I did, if I gave her the whole story, she would finally comprehend there was no possibility of anything ever developing between us. “I know you know very little about my past, much like I know nothing of yours.” I paused to search her sullen and dejected face, praying what I was saying would have some sort of impact on her.
“I fell in love with Melanie when I was sixteen.” Her sharp intake of air told me she was listening. I hugged my son to me, kissing him softly on the head, giving her a moment to recover. I could only assume she’d believed that dinner was the first time I’d ever met Melanie, and we were sharing nothing more than a torrid fling.
“We were so happy.” I laughed wistfully, remembering how incredible those first years had been. “We were so excited when we found out we were going to have a baby. Scared, but happy. We were going to get married as soon as Melanie turned eighteen.” I drew in a ragged breath. I felt so exposed sharing this with Vanessa, but for some reason, I wanted her to know. “We were in a car accident...our baby...Eva...she lived for two days.” I gave myself over to the pain that surged through me, allowing myself to relive it for that short time.
Through bleary eyes, I looked at Vanessa who had sat up, wringing her hands.
“Her parents separated us. We were both young and naïve. We let our fears drive us apart. For nine years, we believed a lie, but we never stopped loving each other. My heart has belonged to her since the day I met her.”
I hesitated before pressing forward. “That dinner you came to?” Vanessa nodded. “That was the first time I’d seen her in nine years. You can probably put the pieces together from there.”
She sucked in her quivering bottom lip and turned away as she battled another round of tears, wiping them with the back of her hand. Feeling I’d finally gotten through to her, I felt satisfied we could push forward and unite or at least cooperate and put this child before all of our past grievances.
I laid him against my legs and he stirred, yawning and drawing his legs up to his belly. “He’s beautiful, isn’t he?”
Vanessa drew in a deep breath, whimpering as she grabbed a tissue from the box. She squeezed her eyes shut and pressed the tissue to her mouth.
“Did you name him?”
“No.” She gulped, looking down and tugging at the gown that was twisted at her waist. She took me by surprise when she suddenly rushed the words, “You name him.”
“Vanessa—”
She looked up to meet me in the eye. “No...just name him.”
She shuffled around, climbed under the covers, and pulled them to her chin. “I’m really tired. Can you take him back to the nursery?”
I nodded, guarding my son protectively in my arms when I stood, kissing him and humming an indecipherable love song as I set him in the small bassinet. Things I had thought would be so foreign to me now came so naturally, changing his diaper and dressing him in a fresh shirt, even wrapping him in the blue and pink striped blanket in the same fashion I’d seen others do time and time again.
As quietly as I could, I wheeled the small bed from the room and flipped off the one muted light. Blackness fell over the room. I reluctantly pushed my son down the hallway to leave him for the night. The movement jarred him awake, his deep, dark eyes fully opening to me for the very first time. I gazed down at him, overcome with a sense of belonging, positive he could feel it, too. By the time we got to the nursery, he was fussing and trying to stuff his fist in his mouth, attesting to his hunger again. I gladly accepted the nurse’s offer to feed him in a rocker sitting in the nursery.
I rocked him and kissed his forehead while he drank. I relished the feel of his tiny, warm body in my arms, cherishing this child who had brought this part of my soul back to life.
I remembered those long forgotten dreams of a family, how important they had been, and now this baby boy had made them a reality.
My only worry was for Melanie. She would always have my heart, but now she had to share it. It in no way diminished my love for her; I loved him in a whole new capacity that I didn’t even realize existed. All the same, he had become just as important to me as Melanie was. I knew it would be difficult for her, and it broke my heart that something so precious to me was going to cause her pain. I just prayed that in time Melanie would heal enough to forge a relationship with him. There were so many women who adored their stepchildren, and I prayed Melanie would be one of them. I knew she’d want to care for him and would try. I wasn’t blind enough, though, to believe there weren’t going to be huge obstacles in her path.
I looked down at my son, so pure and innocent, and was unable to imagine a world in which Melanie would not fall completely in love with him. It might take time, but I would be patient.
I kissed my child and whispered, “Goodnight, Andrew Daniel,” against his head, proud to give my son my grandfather’s name.
Chapter Twenty-eight
“Daniel?”
I sat up, provoking a stabbing pain from the depths of my head. The splitting headache forced me to squint against the glaring bright lights of the hospital room.
It made me almost regret forgoing the shot of morphine for the ibuprofen the nurse had administered at about five this morning. Daniel was here then, trying to sleep in the chair beside my bed when the nurse had come in.
I had been so tired of feeling drugged and suffocated by the cloud around my mind that I was willing to take the pain over the haze that blurred every thought.
Through scrunched eyes, I scanned the empty room, already aware that I was alone.
Still, I felt safe.
It was over. Yesterday had been a nightmare. Being in that house with Nicholas had been terrifying. I should have left that night three months ago when he’d first struck me. Instead of walking downstairs and into the guest room, I should have walked straight out the front door. It was amazing what I’d deluded myself into believing because I was scared. It was a fear that had nearly cost me my life.
Even here, alone in my room, I could feel Daniel. His presence was near. I took comfort in it, though I really wanted him beside me. With my mind clear, I wanted to look at him and celebrate that we’d made it, that we were free. His presence grew stronger, and I sat up in anticipation, propping myself up on one arm to wait for him.
I was met with the most glorious smile I’d ever seen upon Daniel’s face. Total joy seemed to spring forth and flow before him into the room.
He halted mid-stride when he entered, seeing I had already awakened. Hazel eyes devoured me from across the room, washing me in complete adoration
, pulling me to their depths. I felt drawn further into them than I’d ever been before, as if the recesses had expanded and his spirit had been amplified.
“Hey,” he called in the softest voice, “You’re awake. How are you feeling?” He crossed the room to my side, drawing the chair up to sit next to me.
“My head hurts.” The pain flared as attention was drawn to it. “But other than that, I think I feel fine.”
I turned on my side to face him, and he gathered my hands in both of his, brushing his lips across each knuckle. He leaned in closer, pressing a sweet, lingering kiss against my mouth. He was careful, acutely aware of each of my injuries, managing still to cover every exposed inch of my skin with his praise.
His mouth was at my ear. My body trembled when he whispered near the sensitive skin, “I love you.” He sat back to take in my face. His expression was intense, full of devotion and love, but shrouded in compassion and a tinge of apprehension. “Baby, I need to talk to you.” My first instinct was to be concerned, but the light in his eyes held a promise, so instead, I watched him with curiosity.
He ran the pad of his thumb over my cheek and moved his hand to rest on my neck. His expression was somber, but his eyes conveyed no real sadness.
I narrowed my eyes at him, unable to make sense of the conflicting signals he was sending. “Daniel—” He shook his head, cutting me off.
“Melanie.” His eyes flitted over my face. He chose his words carefully, each one impassioned as it passed through his lips. “My son was born on Saturday.”
His announcement echoed through the room and crashed against my ears. His mouth claimed, “My son,” while his spirit cried, “I adore him.”
I desperately tried to hide it, to conceal the all-consuming ache his news brought me. I wanted to shield from this man the hurt that invaded every fiber of my body. I wanted to protect him from the envy that flowed through me, infecting my heart, my mind, and my soul. I struggled to pretend I did not covet what I could not have, but I couldn’t stop the tears from falling. I turned away to spare him my reaction, one I had tried in vain to contain, ashamed of the jealousy ravaging me.
How did I become such a terrible person? Daniel had been given a gift, this child, and he felt a deep love for him that was unmistakable, a love he never believed would be possible for him to feel. I should have rejoiced, but I couldn’t.
It just hurt too much.
It felt as if a barrier had been erected, cutting me off from a part of him that I could not share. The void in my life had never been more pronounced.
Tears fell harder when he encircled me in his arms from behind while I buried my head in the pillow. “Baby, it’s okay to cry.” He wrapped his arm around my chest, pulling me closer to him. “I know it hurts...just...let it out.”
His tender encouragement touched me and I gave into it, weeping loudly into the pillow, deep, ragged sobs born of years of insecurity and loss and want and need. And with this agonizing jealousy, it all released simultaneously in a torrent of raw emotions.
Daniel’s soft words were there as he let me mourn. He rocked me and whispered comfort, “I will always love you. I’ll never let you go. You will always mean everything to me. There is nothing that could change the way I feel about you.” His heart was in sync with my fears, mollifying each one as I expelled it from my body.
When he felt me calm, he leaned in closer. He rested his cheek against mine as he almost painfully gripped me to him. “I promise, we will make this work.”
Shuddering, I took in a deep breath, resolving that I would do whatever it took, knowing that promise depended more on me than anything else. I would take this burden and the sorrow it would bring. I nodded as I wiped my nose and the last of my self-pity into the sleeve of my hospital gown, turning to face the one man I would do anything for. Mesmerizing pools of understanding waited, filled with undying devotion. “I love you, Melanie.”
I swallowed, wetting my dry mouth and lips, reaching out to stroke the day-old stubble on his face. “I love you, too.” Gathering all my strength, I pushed forward and took the next step. My voice shook. “Tell me about him.”
Daniel’s expression turned reverent, full of wonder and awe, as if he could not quite comprehend the way he felt. “He’s...amazing, Melanie.” He scooted his chair closer, taking each of my hands back in his. “His name is Andrew...Andrew Daniel.”
Daniel’s pride in his son was so obvious as he said his baby’s name—his grandfather’s name. I wanted so badly to share in this joy with him, but I couldn’t find it within me and was more than grateful when movement from the door distracted us. Patrick cleared his throat and a sympathetic smile graced his features as he looked at me. I smiled back, silently welcoming him. He opened the door wide, allowing Julia to step in before him, grasping her hand as they crossed the room together.
“How are you today?” His eyes appraised me as he took a seat on the edge of the bed opposite Daniel.
“Better, thank you.”
Julia squeezed in beside Daniel, her bottom lip trembling as she tried not to cry. She embraced me the way only a mother would her own child. “Sweetheart, I was so scared. Are you okay?”
I nodded into her shoulder, my chest tightening as her affection washed over me. There were days when I still couldn’t believe I had found this family again. Julia pulled back and cupped my cheek, her expression kind and understanding, seeing the sadness in my eyes for what it really was.
She glanced warily at Daniel and wrapped me in her arms, murmuring against my ear as she ran her fingers through my mass of tangled hair. “You are strong, Melanie, and you will make it through this. I have faith in you, just like I did in Daniel.”
I acknowledged her by tightening my hold, praying with everything in me that she was right.
Julia and Patrick stayed only a few minutes, as Daniel’s attorney had shown up and was waiting outside my door to begin the paperwork needed to put an end to my marriage.
“Are you up for this?” Daniel looked at me, concerned.
I nodded too rapidly, causing me to wince against the throb in my head. “The sooner we get this over with the better.” His smile was warm when he stood, kissing me in agreement. He stepped out and returned only seconds later with his lawyer in tow.
He was much younger than I would have expected, probably not much older than Daniel. He had stark black hair and striking green eyes, and his manner was brash, no-nonsense, and all business. He extended his hand formally, introducing himself as William Bailey before grabbing a chair against the wall and getting straight to work.
Where his personality lacked, he made up for in knowledge and clear competence. He took me through the forms and answered every question I had without the slightest hesitation.
He explained that Nicholas had been arrested the night before when he was discharged from the ER, only to be released on bail early this morning. He informed me I had no need to worry as I had already been granted the restraining order requested through his office. He left with a promise that he foresaw no problems and expected this to be resolved quickly, especially in light of the domestic violence charges and that I was asking for none of Nicholas’s assets.
Daniel rose and shook William’s hand, thanking him while William told him he would be in touch by the beginning of the week with an update. He rushed from the room without looking back.
Daniel shrugged as he explained away his attorney’s abruptness. “He’s the best.” We both laughed, releasing some of the pent up stress from the whirlwind meeting and the emotions of the past two days, both of us relieved in knowing that my legal bond to Nicholas would soon be broken.
During breakfast, Daniel stayed at my side. I could tell by his restlessness that he was antsy, torn between being here with me and upstairs with Andrew.
It was there again, the barrier, the wall that created a division between us, the wall that was there because his heart was now hopelessly divided. I knew the right thing to do would be tell him t
o go, but I found myself too selfish to speak the words.
There was a light tapping on the door. Erin peeked in, wielding an overnight bag filled with clothes and everything I would need to take a shower. “Brought you something.” She was a lifesaver. Nothing would feel better than washing this grime away. While the nurses had done the best they could with a sponge bath, it had done nothing to erase how dirty I felt from my ordeal of the day before. Erin stepped in, looking relieved when she took in my appearance. “Oh, you look so much better today!”
I looked at her, confused, having no recollection of her visiting.
She laughed and walked across the room, waving her hand as if to tell me not to worry about it. “I stopped by last night, but you were completely out.”
She swept in to give Daniel a quick hug before going to the other side of the bed. She sat by my side, curling one leg under her and facing me. She brushed a lock of hair from my face so she could study me, before she took my hand and rested it in her lap. “How are you really feeling?” she asked seriously, forever straightforward.
Even after all these years, I’d never dream of lying to Erin. Even though so much time had passed, she could still see straight through me. Our bond was still there, and she knew me just as well as she had nine years ago. I still knew her, too, and it was clear she wasn’t asking about my physical condition. I grimaced and shrugged.
She patted my hand and stood. “Come on. Let’s get you into the shower.”
She rushed into the small bathroom ahead of me, pulling toiletries from the bag and placing them in the shower. She turned on the water to allow it to heat up while Daniel assisted me in standing for the first time since I had been brought to the hospital. I cringed with my first step, but as I continued to stretch out my cramped muscles, it felt wonderful.
Erin extended her hand and led me inside, shutting the door behind us. The warm and inviting steam filled the small space. My tired body wanted nothing more than to immerse itself under the therapeutic spray.
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