by Liv Bennett
Yes, she tricked me into becoming a father in the worst possible way, but no one deserves to spend the last minutes of her life like this, alone on the dirty bathroom floor of a God-forsaken bar.
A paramedic closes the doors and the ambulance truck takes off. Julie and I follow it to the emergency room of the nearest hospital. I hear one of the paramedics state Theresa’s death and then run down the vitals of the baby as they hurry Theresa’s now dead body in on a gurney.
That’s the last time I saw her, ushered through the doors of the emergency room, with blood spilling out of her mouth. Julie slides her arm through mine while looking for the waiting room inside. She stops a few nurses on the way to ask for a report on the baby’s health, but no one gives her a clear answer. From the look on their faces, though, I can see it has little chance.
CH 14 - The Lover Gone
~
I can feel the last drops of my vitality leaving my body as I drag my feet toward the seats in the waiting area. A young woman, barely an adult, is dead and her baby is struggling to survive. And, whose fault is it?
As soon as I throw myself on one of the empty chairs, rough hands grip me by my jacket, and a man yells at me while shaking me violently.
“You’re a murderer,” he says. “You killed her.”
I can hardly tilt my head enough to see the face of the owner of those furious hands, expecting someone from Theresa’s family. I don’t try to protect myself, since he’s right in his fury at me for being the reason of Theresa’s death. If another man had done to Chloe, half of the things I did to Theresa, I’d have emptied a fully loaded gun into his head.
I’m revolting, a lowly creature, for taking advantage of her. Why, oh, why did I think a nineteen-year-old would be so much more mature than a minor? I picked her up off a random street and fucked her within twenty minutes of laying eyes on her. She was misguided and didn’t know any better, and I used her naivety selfishly and disposed of her like soiled piece of toilet paper afterward.
Gripping his rough hands around the lapels of my jacket, Theresa’s relative shakes me with violent moves. He won’t make it easy for me, and he shouldn’t. But my body freezes when I realize the person who’s shaking me as if he intends to kill me is no other than Emmett Nielson.
“She killed herself because of you,” Emmett roars and punches me in the face. “Finally you succeeded in ruining her.”
The blow knocks me to the floor, while a sharp pain vibrates through my lips and jaw. The realization hits me along with the kicks of Emmett’s feet. He’s not talking about Theresa.
“Penelope?” I whisper, coughing through blood. Is she dead, too?
CH 15 - The Goodbye
~
Two male interns separate us, or more accurately, they haul Emmett away before he can do permanent damage to me. The shock of Penelope’s death leaves me numb and defenseless against Emmett’s ruthless kicks.
Julie and a man from the waiting room rush to my side and help me up. A young female intern summons me into a private room to check the extent of my injuries. Not a single day has passed since I turned eighteen without me spending at least one and a half hours working out. My body can take rough handling easily. I won’t break from a few minutes of getting kicked in the stomach. Although I try to explain this to the intern, she ignores my protests and starts examining me with an unnecessary scrutiny.
As soon as she assures me—herself actually—that I have nothing that won’t heal by itself, she lets me go.
Julie startles as I step out of the examination room. “Are you all right?” She slaps her hand over her mouth while giving me a slow once-over.
Tired of being questioned about my health, I simply nod. “Where’s Emmett?”
“The security guard ordered him out, but I asked around about Penelope. Her remains are still in the hospital if you want to see her for the last time.” She slides her hand across my chest and then presses it against my arm, encircling her fingers gently around it. That little gesture of support helps settle my nerves.
I’m one of those people who avoids goodbyes like the plague, but this one is inevitable. Paying her my last respects is the least I can do for the woman who didn’t give up on me for eight long years.
Another soul that I destroyed.
Another life that I ended.
Barely holding the anger brewing inside me, I follow Julie to Penelope’s room. We find a doctor working on her chart when we enter the cold room. She gives a quick summary of her health status when they took her in and the procedure they used to try to save her. An overdose of antidepressants was her reason for death. They charged her seventeen times with electric shock in vain. She was desperate to end her life.
How didn’t I see her anguish over the years and more so during our last encounter? She practically begged me to reconsider our relationship, and I was too selfish to see her suffering. While my engagement with Scarlet pushed her into depression, I remained oblivious to her pleas and happily disposed of her into Emmett’s controlling hands.
The doctor exits the room to give me a few minutes alone with Penelope, but I ask Julie to stay. She stands close to the door while I take cautious steps toward the bed that has my ex-lover on it.
An abrupt wave of coldness spreads over my body with an undeniable feeling of déja vu. I had to say goodbye to my mother under these exact circumstances, after she’d swallowed an entire bottle of antidepressants. Funny how the pills that’d kept her alive all those years in spite of Michael’s abuses were also the weapon that she used to end her own life. I guess in a way, they saved her again, this time permanently.
Approaching the bed, I reach for the white bedsheet over Penelope’s body and remove it slowly. My body jerks at the sight of the ghostly face that is almost the same color of the sheet. The lips I kissed perhaps a million times are now a purplish blue, the body I enjoyed over and over a mass of skin and bones. It’s almost surreal, the sight of her so broken and foreign.
I wonder if her soul is somewhere in the room, watching me. Perhaps she’s still shocked about what she’d done. She could have lived a long life, had kids of her own, and made a career in any area she wanted. Her soul must be feeling guilty for giving up all that for a jerk, like me.
Hesitantly, I rest my hand over hers while my emotions for her surface enough that I can recognize my love for her. Yes, I indeed loved her. Not exactly the way she wanted me to. I didn’t burn for her or obsess over her like I did over Lindsay or Scarlet, but still she owned a piece of my heart. It’s impossible for me not to nurture affection for a woman who sacrificed so many years of her youth to make me happy. It’s just sad that I recognize it only now, after losing her completely.
“Zane,” Julie calls, and only then I realize I’ve been crying.
Without a thought, I collapse on the dead body before me and wrap my arms around her, wishing from the bottom of my heart that she’d come back to life. “Penelope,” I whisper, hoping she’d hear me perhaps in another plane of existence. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for what I did to you.”
How many women have I hurt? How many innocent lives have I destroyed? The pain and the feeling of guilt come crushing down on me as I hold the corpse that’ll never carry a life inside it, tightly in my arms.
“Oh, Zane.” I hear Julie’s heels clicking on the floor and feel her arms closing around my waist. Her head rests softly against my back while I cry for the loss of a lover.
“I did this to her,” I say over and over. “I killed her. She expected a life with me, and I took it from her without even a proper explanation. I’m a monster.”
“No, you’re wrong, Zane. It wasn’t your fault. You can’t hold yourself responsible for others’ actions. She was weak. You have to accept it…” With a gentle grip of her hands, she pulls me back. Her eyes rove over my face, sadness and understanding oozing out of her irises as she gazes at me. “Just as you have to accept you have no fault in Theresa’s situation. You can’t hold yourself responsible for everyt
hing that happens to others.”
I can because I am indeed responsible for Penelope’s death. If I’d treated her with the respect and care she deserved, she wouldn’t be lying dead in a cold hospital room, and the same goes for Theresa. Two women, both very young, are now dead. Both lost souls because of my egocentrism.
The hold of Julie’s arms breaks my chain of depressive thoughts; the tears she’s been shedding with me and for me softening the tautness around my heart.
I now see why it’s important to have a support system, as the healthcare professionals recommend. Julie has been my rock through thick and thin. She’s never judged me unfavorably, even when I deserved it, and instead tried to improve my life as best as she could. And I know for sure it’s not out of some unbreakable promise she made to my mother. Ace and Chloe have suffered in deeper shit than I have, and Julie stood by them, but not with the same enthusiasm and passion as she has with me and my problems.
I angle my head back to stare down at her, and she peeks up at me through her wet eyelashes. The affection in her gaze is undeniable and slowly warms me from inside out. My chest swells with pride and fondness for this woman who has the strength of a black knight. She was sexually abused over and over again. She’s still suffering the consequences of it; however, she’s strong enough to run a multi-million dollar company and affect hundreds of employees’ lives. She’s the only woman who wants and works solely for my happiness without asking anything in return. Her loyalty for me is unconditional, has always been and, I have no doubt, will always be.
My heart feels as though it will explode with the feeling of gratitude for having her with me, by my side, during one of the hardest days of my life. “Thank you,” I mumble and add, “for being there for me again.”
She held me tight when I had to part with my mother at the hospital and at her funeral when my family and I had to bury her. She gave me the courage and helped with ideas to take down Michael. And now, she’s doing her best to make me believe in my innocence of the crimes I know with hundred-percent certainty I am guilty of having committed. She shakes her head to deny of the importance of her role in my life and gives me a warm smile. “Let’s go and check on the baby.”
A doctor finds us an hour later to inform us Theresa’s death was due to cocaine overdose, something we had already guessed, and that the baby is safe and stable. “It’s a boy,” she adds with sad eyes.
His birth isn’t a source of joy or celebration. No one will pop open a bottle of champagne to welcome him to life or throw a sensational party over the news. He’s come into the world all alone. It must be the saddest of all incidents; being born right after your own mother’s death. And I thought I had a miserable life.
I want to punch the walls and kick everything in my way until the physical pain replaces the heaviness in the pit of my stomach. The evening could have gone differently had I spent an hour longer listening to Theresa’s bubbling chat.
She might have screwed me over with the information she had on me. She could have revealed the filthy details of my encounter with her and her friend in the hotel suite to extort more money from me. But she didn’t.
I groan in pain when I think about her young age. She lived just nineteen years on earth, and most of them were likely miserable years in poverty. And now all that’s left behind her is a boy who’ll grow up in foster homes if he’s not lucky enough to carry my DNA.
“What are we going to do about the baby?” Julie asks softly, her arm tight around my shoulder in a comforting way that helps ease my pain.
I may be a jerk and have hurt a lot of women and men in my life, but I’m not a monster to leave a motherless child alone. I’ll not only support him financially throughout his life, I’ll make sure he feels he belongs to a family. That’s the least I can do to save my soul and give Theresa’s soul peace. With renewed confidence, I turn to Julie, whose face is wet with tears.
“He’s mine,” I declare and look at the doctor. “I’m the baby’s father.”
“Wait,” Julie interrupts. “Aren’t you going to let them run a paternity test?”
I shake my head vigorously. “Theresa said he was mine.” That should be enough. I don’t need DNA proof that the baby belongs to me. Theresa’s words are as good as the results of a lab test.
“Really?” Julie’s face lights up for the first time since we stepped into the hospital, although more tears roll down her rosy cheeks. “You’re a father now.” Her arms lock around my neck as she pulls me into a tight embrace. “You have a baby.”
“I do.”
CH 16 - The Miracle
~
The doctor lets us see my son in the NICU. My heart sinks at the sight of the miniature creature, although the doctor assures me his weight is within the healthy range. Every breath I inhale seems to be filling me with more emotions for this little boy. His smell is sweet and intoxicating and, like magic, binds me to him with an irrevocable bond. If I had a little doubt about our common genetic heritage, it all disappears when I stroke his cheek with a finger.
I’m a father now, and it’s the most exhilarating feeling I’ve ever felt. Suddenly, all the turmoil I’ve experienced feels worth the pain. With my son, I’ve become a man assured of his place on earth. With him, my existence becomes significant, not a random occurrence. I genuinely wish his mother could be alive to share this unique experience, the miracle of life, with me.
Julie coos over the baby and whispers how pretty he is, although he’s sleeping and cannot hear or understand her words.
“Don’t call my son pretty,” I request with a lighthearted tone.
She straightens up, laughing softly, and stares at me. “He’s a beauty.”
“Enough,” I joke and wink. “He’s not a girl. He’s a man just like his father.”
She shakes her head with a mischievous smile and opens her arms for me. “Congratulations.”
I accept her embrace readily and take my time in her arms to re-order my train of thought and make quick mental notes of arrangements for the upcoming days.
According to the doctor, the baby will need to stay under observation for five more days until they’re sure he’s healthy enough for me to take him home. They have a supply of breastmilk in the hospital, but also promises to give me information on how to get him more breastmilk. I nod and thank her for her help. I’m determined to spend whatever it takes to find a recent mother who’s willing to provide the breastmilk necessary to ensure my boy has the nutrition and immunity he needs.
I name the baby, Preston, after my mother’s maiden name and add my own name as his middle name. Julie smiles warmly at my choice. “You couldn’t have chosen a better name. Preston Zane Hawkins.”
Just as we say our thank-you’s to the doctor and walk down to the ground floor, Scarlet appears in the waiting room and rushes to my side. “I came as soon as I heard. Daney called me. I’m sorry about Theresa.”
I barely take note of her blonde hair falling over her green leather coat, her beautiful eyes soft and twinkling with compassion, as the reminder of Theresa’s death shakes me back to my miserable state of mind. My short-lived excitement over naming my son abandons my heart. “Thank you.”
She closes the distance between us and throws herself at me. Her hand moves up to my face and touches my lips intimately as if the discussion we had earlier in the evening never happened and we’re still lovers engaged to be married. “I promise nothing will ever come between us. I won’t let it.”
Julie clears her throat. “I’ll make arrangements for Theresa’s funeral and call around to locate her family.”
“Yeah, do that, please,” I say, turning my head to her, and add. “And inform them about Preston. Let them know they’ll always be welcome in our lives.”
“Preston?” Scarlet asks once Julie leaves us alone. The twinkle in her eyes dims as she stares at me with a confused expression.
I give her a quick nod, uncertain about our relationship and hesitant to break the news to he
r. “Preston, my son.”
Her eyes grow large in surprise and I don’t miss the hint of dismay. “They ran the paternity test already?”
I move away to free myself from her hold and take a step toward the exit. “They didn’t need to. He’s mine. I won’t let him struggle without a family of his own.”
She rushes after me and holds my hand to stop me. “But, Theresa’s family will be his family, too. You can’t take him away from them.”
I stop to look at her with determination, hoping she won’t argue with me over something I feel so strongly about. “I assume you haven’t heard what I’ve just said to Julie. I want them to be part of his life, but I also want to give him a stable home.”
She exhales and her shoulders slump forward in a discouraging way. “I’m sorry I have to say this, but what if you’re not the father? You’re taking away the chance from him to get to know his real father?”
She has a point, one that I hadn’t considered. On the other hand, it’ll be virtually impossible to locate the baby’s father unless he comes forward to claim his son. Given my initial reluctance to accept Theresa’s claims to be carrying my child, I doubt the real father will be willing to own up to the child—that is, if Preston isn’t mine.
“It’s been a rough night. Let me think about it.” Calling Daney, I ask him to pick me up outside the hospital. After escorting Scarlet to her car under her disappointed gaze, I get inside my limo and head to my home with thoughts of the uncertainties awaiting me regarding the status of my son.
CH 17 - The Urgent Need
~
The antique Victorian walnut clock that once used to belong to my mom strikes two and I still haven’t managed to blink an eye. The shocking incidents of the previous day along with uncertainties of the near future keep every muscle in my body too tense for me to be able to fall to sleep.
My mouth waters as the urge to numb myself with alcohol floods my system. I have no doubt a glass of vodka would give me the momentary relief I need to relax and sleep. The morning will be a wrestling match with all the hospital visits, funeral arrangements, and worse, the paparazzi ransacking my life to flesh out every little detail regarding Penelope, Theresa, and Preston.