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I Said Yes

Page 4

by Kiersten Modglin


  My stomach grumbled as I shut the car off, protesting the fact that I’d had to skip breakfast and hadn’t run through anywhere to eat. I didn’t have much cash and I couldn’t risk Mark seeing a charge if I were to use my debit card. If I’d been smart, I would’ve packed a lunch, but it hadn’t come to mind until right then. I rummaged around in the center console, pulling out another piece of gum and trading it out for more flavor.

  I should’ve at least packed a water, but I wasn’t thinking clearly. I flipped up the visor that had been blocking the sun and scooted forward in my seat, watching for Mark to exit the parking garage. It took longer than expected and, for a moment, I worried I missed him, but then, there he was. He walked across the busy street with just one glance in each direction.

  There was a knot in my stomach that I couldn’t deny. Every inch of my skin crawled with anticipation and dread. What would my day uncover? What did I want it to? I watched as he entered the high-rise building and pictured him climbing into the elevator and riding it up to the third floor, where he would spend his day.

  Every pretty woman who walked into the building after him was a suspect. I stared them down, looking for a sign that they were the one who could ruin everything for me. The one who could make my husband risk everything.

  I watched as the day ticked by, bouncing in my seat from a full bladder, but I didn’t dare leave my post. I couldn’t miss him. I couldn’t miss the chance to catch whatever it was that would give me my answers. I put my sunglasses on as the midday sun broke through the clouds, causing a glare on the hood of my car. I half-considered giving up, but I was no quitter.

  One time at work, they’d made us take a personality quiz. I can’t remember the name of it. When the results came in, it showed my biggest personality trait, was that of a maximizer—someone who is all black or white, all in or all out. No room for gray. I’d never read anything more true, though I hadn’t had a name for it before then. My maximizer personality would never let me do anything halfway. I was all in and I would sooner urinate on the floor than admit defeat.

  Luckily, I didn’t have to do either. At half past eleven, my husband strode out the front door of his office building with a blonde woman next to him. From what I could tell, she wasn’t one of the women I’d seen entering the building that morning. Anger welled in my belly, enough to make me nauseous, and I felt fresh tears sting my eyes.

  How could he do that to me? We weren’t three years into our marriage, and already he’d betrayed me. Already he’d cast me aside like yesterday’s news. How many times had there been? How many women? In that moment, I understood what people meant by the phrase ‘blinded by rage.’ My vision was blurring, both from tears and white-hot anger. I put the keys into the ignition, no longer aware of my plan, and revved the engine. I pulled from the parking spot as soon as I saw his car turning out of the parking garage.

  I didn’t care anymore if he saw me following him. He’d been caught red handed, and there was no way he could’ve talked himself out of this. I zipped around a car, gunning it through a yellow light to arrive behind him. His brake lights came on—had he seen me? He made a sudden left at the next street and I did the same, narrowly missing a car as it blared its horn at me. I didn’t care. I cared about nothing at that moment. Nothing other than confronting my husband.

  The black car came to a sudden stop in front of me, turning into a parking space on the street. My stomach fell, and I swallowed, pulling in just behind him. The driver’s door to his car opened, and he shoved his leg out, his black dress shoes shining in the sun. He stepped out of the car, looking directly at me with a look of outright indignance.

  “Hannah?” he called. “What the hell are you doing?” His voice was demanding as he threw his arms out to his sides.

  “I should ask you the same thing,” I spat, stepping out of my car and marching toward him. He looked me up and down, obviously not impressed.

  “You don’t look well. Are you still feeling ill? Have you been to the doctor?” His face turned from anger to confusion. “Were you planning to surprise me for lunch?”

  “Even if I was, it seems like you’re a bit busy,” I said, pursing my lips as if to show he’d been caught.

  “What are you talking about?”

  Unable to control myself any longer, my voice broke as I asked the question that was causing my insides to squirm. “Who is she, Mark?”

  His jaw clenched, his mouth shoved to one side, as he stared at me. “Who is who? What are you talking about?” He glanced toward his car, following me as I pointed and marched toward where I knew she was waiting.

  “The woman you’re having an affair with. Don’t play dumb with me.” I stormed around toward the front of the car to glance through his window and gasped. To my surprise, there was no one in the car with him. I looked around me, convinced she was there. “Where did she go?”

  “She who? What are you talking about, Han? Are you running a fever?” He approached me with caution, lifting an extended hand toward my forehead to check. I swatted it away.

  “I’m fine. Where is the woman you were with?”

  “What woman?” he demanded.

  “The blonde that you left your office with. I know she was with you.” Suddenly, it was hitting me how ridiculous I must look. What must he think of me, behaving this way?

  “Leilani?” he asked, his jaw dropping down. “What, were you…were you watching my office?” He rubbed a curled hand across his temple. “Were you stalking me? What is going on, Han?”

  Fat tears filled my eyes as the adrenaline began to leave my body. “I found a condom in the laundry. I thought…I thought—” I couldn’t finish the sentence.

  “You thought I was having an affair?” he confirmed, his lips tight. Suddenly, he let out a laugh. “Hannah.” He stepped forward, clicking his tongue and pulling me into his chest despite my protests. His breaths turned into laughter, and I looked up at him.

  “What’s so funny?”

  He smirked. “You are…plenty of woman for me. What on earth would I need to go and have an affair for?”

  “Then why were you with that woman?”

  “Leilani is one of the junior partners. She’s under Bill and Lonnie, but still my boss,” he said. “We walked out of the building together because I was just finishing up with a meeting and she was leaving. She’s married and twice my age. If I was going to have an affair, she certainly wouldn’t be my prime choice. Besides, I’d never risk my job or our marriage like that. You know me. ” He kissed my forehead, squeezing me tight. “Are you sure you’re feeling all right?”

  I nodded, though suddenly that wasn’t true. The mounting pressure of the day was rolling over me as I realized how ridiculous I’d been. I wasn’t James Bond. I was Hannah Oliver, and this little mission had done nothing but cause my bladder irreparable damage and my husband to think I was a lunatic.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I don’t know what’s come over me.”

  “You still feel warm,” he said. I knew he was lying, though I wasn’t sure if it was for my benefit or his. Sick as I felt, I wasn’t feverish. Still, I let him lead me to my car. “Let’s get you home.”

  “I need to take the car.”

  He waved me off. “I’ll have it towed. You shouldn’t be driving in your condition.”

  I nodded, sinking into his chest as we made it to the car and he opened the door. “Here you go,” he said, placing me in the seat and buckling me in. He kissed my forehead again. “I love you, my crazy girl.”

  He shut the door, its impact reverberating across the car as my stomach let out another loud growl. How could I have been so foolish?

  Chapter Eleven

  Her

  “I want to have a baby.” We were sitting in our garden tub, bubbles up to our shoulders, the first time I mentioned it. I’d been toying with the idea for months, but it was only in the last several weeks that I’d worked up the courage to bring it up.

  Despite all the plans
we’d made before the wedding, plans for a future home and future careers, children had never come up. I’d never wanted to seem like I was moving too quickly, choosing to let Mark take the lead in all of our biggest decisions—moving in, getting married. But now, I wanted to make a decision for us. Kids were the next step.

  He tossed a bit of bubbles at me playfully, his foot teasing my side. “Yeah, okay.”

  “I’m serious,” I told him, scooting further up in the tub. “I’m here all day by myself. I get lonely. Now that I’m not working, wouldn’t this be the perfect time to start trying?”

  “If you’re lonely, why don’t we get a dog?”

  I couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, but his face showed no sign of a smile. “I don’t want a dog. I’m not a dog person, you know that.”

  “Yes, I do, but I didn’t know you were a kid person, either.” He tossed more suds my way. “What if our kid wanted a dog?”

  “We need a kid to have to worry about that, don’t we?” I paused. “Are you…serious? You didn’t think I’d want children?”

  He shrugged.

  “Don’t you want us to have kids? A little boy you could teach how to play catch?”

  “I’ve never really thought about it, I guess.”

  “How could you not think about it? It’s our future.” How could anyone not think about having children? I’d spent so many years dreaming of their little faces, the way they’d laugh, even the messes they’d make. I wanted it all, and lately the idea had been resurfacing more and more. I suppose my biological clock was letting me know it was time.

  “I don’t know, I guess I just never wanted kids. You’ve never mentioned them, so I thought you felt the same.” He was no longer meeting my eyes as he spoke.

  I glanced up at the ceiling as I tried to piece my thoughts together. What was happening? It was not at all how I’d expected the conversation to go. He was supposed to be excited, flip me over, and insist we start trying right then. How could he say he never wanted kids? Wasn’t that the kind of thing you brought up before you marry someone? Doesn’t everyone just assume both people want kids unless someone says otherwise? I couldn’t believe it. “I…well, I just thought it was a given, I guess. You don’t want kids at all?”

  “I just…I don’t know. Kids complicate things, don’t they?”

  “Complicate things how?” I was drawing circles in the bubbles, watching my finger twirl round and round as it traced. My heart was breaking, but I couldn’t let it show. I just had to be persuasive. I’d make him see this was what he wanted.

  “I only mean that I like things the way they are, you know? I don’t want to make things more difficult on you…or me. Ya know?”

  I scooted forward in the bath, sliding my body in between his legs and turning to face the front of the tub, placing my feet next to his. I rested my head on his chest, and he wrapped his arms around me. “It wouldn’t complicate anything,” I assured him. “Babies are good. If anything, a baby will make things even better. Just imagine, holding a little one with my green eyes and your curly locks. And, oh, the cute outfits we could pick out.” My body was all tingly just thinking about it. About a child growing inside of me, tiny baby kicks from inside my stomach. It was all I’d ever dreamed of. How could he not feel the same way? I wanted him to want it as badly as I did, to want to watch me grow with our child. To want to help me raise him or her. To want to love our baby as much as we loved each other. “Think about it: reading bedtime stories; trips to the park; family vacations; those cute little Christmas ornaments with their little handprint.” I closed my eyes, allowing myself to drift off into my daydream. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

  “It’s really that important to you?” he asked, lowering his head so that his cheek rested near my ear.

  “It’s everything to me,” I told him.

  He sighed. “Well, how many are we talking? One or two, right? Not, like…six.”

  I snorted. “No, I had no plans for six.”

  He rested his head on the back of the tub and let out a loud sigh. “Whatever you want, my love, it’s yours.”

  I grinned from ear to ear, pulling his arms tighter around me. “You really mean it?” I glanced over my shoulder at him.

  He kissed my cheek. “My goal in life is to make you happy, Han. If a baby will do that…why would I say no?”

  “Is it what you want, though?” I asked, instantly doubting why I was pressing the matter.

  “What I want,” he turned me sideways and brushed a piece of hair out of my face so he could see me clearly, “is for you to have the life you’ve always dreamed of.”

  I kissed his lips then, sliding an arm around him with a full grin. “I already do.”

  Like I’d hoped originally, we started trying then, right there in the bathtub. I just knew it would happen quickly—I’d always gotten what I wanted. I could practically see the child we’d bring into the world together. I counted down the days from our first unprotected encounter until the first moment I could possibly feel a pregnancy symptom. Every ache or pain, every wave of nausea, every yawn that escaped my throat pointed to the pregnancy I knew must be in progress. I researched heavily every early pregnancy symptom and searched for them with my every waking moment. I watched the calendar diligently, waiting impatiently for the day—the second—I could take the test.

  When it finally came, I rushed into the bathroom with the box in hand. It had two tests—I had a very real picture of how I wanted to surprise Mark in my head. I couldn’t wait to take a picture of my positive tests. When the first one came out negative, I convinced myself it was because it hadn’t been first morning urine. I’d been hardly able to make it to the toilet, let alone open the impenetrable package that I needed to get into. So, when it came time for the second test, I waited with bated breath for the next day. I didn’t allow myself to drink anything for a few hours before bed in hopes that I wouldn’t dilute the urine.

  But, despite all my efforts, the test result remained negative. Again and again I tested, waiting for that little pink plus sign, but it never came. Right on schedule, my period reared its ugly, red head.

  The next month, it was much the same. I waited for the symptoms, begged my husband for intimacy at every opportunity, but still…negative. I was beginning to hate the way that blue line stared back at me so smugly, darkening as time passed. I wanted to be pregnant with every fiber of my being. I read pregnancy forums, searched for tips and tricks from fellow trying-to-conceive mothers, and waited eagerly for the first sign of my imminent pregnancy.

  One day, Mark had come home from work late and was surprised to find me waiting up for him.

  “It’s late,” he said. “What are you still doing up?”

  I turned the volume down on the television. “Today’s my last potential ovulation day, so I thought we could give it one more shot.”

  He set his briefcase down and, with it, his shoulders slumped. “We just did it yesterday.”

  I raised a brow, feeling insulted. “Well, excuse me. I didn’t realize it was such a chore.”

  “It’s not a chore, Han. I’m just not in the mood tonight, okay?”

  “Not in the mood?” I demanded, pulling my legs up under me on the couch. “How convenient is that? The last day that we have the chance and you couldn’t care less about sex.” I scoffed, rage fueling me.

  “We are having sex more now that we’ve ever done before, and it’s all because you want to have a baby. How do you think that makes me feel?”

  I frowned. “All because I want to have a baby? You know, Mark, maybe we aren’t getting pregnant because you’re so against it.”

  “You’re right. I willed my sperm not to impregnate you.” He strode past me angrily and pulled open the fridge.

  “That’s right,” I egged him on with fury in my veins. “Grab your wine. Grab your whiskey. Have yourself a drink, but God forbid you sleep with your wife.”

  He spun around with his back up against the cab
inet, slamming the refrigerator door shut. “You’re acting ridiculous, Hannah. I’m allowed to not want to have sex with you every once in a while. It’s not a crime, you know.”

  I reeled back as if I’d been slapped. “Fine,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. “Just forget it.”

  “I didn’t mean that,” he said, the anger wiped from his face and replaced with frustration. “I’m sorry.” He reached for my arm, stopping me from walking away. “I’m sorry, Han. I didn’t mean that. I just…I’ve had a bad day, and I wanted to come home and relax, okay?”

  “A bad day?” I asked. “Anything you want to talk about?”

  He looked at me with a strange expression, as if he was actually going to open up, but quickly, his lips tightened into a thin line. “It’s just…work stuff. I don’t want to bore you. I just need a minute to wind down, okay?”

  “Of course. It wasn’t like I was planning to jump your bones the second you walked through the door,” I said.

  He smirked. “Jump my bones?”

  “Yeah, you’re acting like I was planning to force myself on you. I wasn’t even going to bring it up, I just thought we were on the same page about wanting this to happen. It’s been three months, and I’m starting to get worried.”

  “Lots of people spend months trying for babies. Three months really isn’t that long.”

  “Sometimes I think you don’t care about this at all,” I said, my chin quivering as I realized I’d let my deepest fear slip off my tongue.

  “About what?”

  “About any of it, Mark. About having a baby with me.”

  “Why are you so obsessed with this?” he asked, slamming his hand down on the counter. “I’m doing all that you ask. I don’t know what else you want me to do. I can’t help it if you’re not getting pregnant.”

  “I know you can’t help it, but that doesn’t mean you can’t care about how I feel. I’m…I’m sad that it hasn’t happened yet, and I feel really alone in that. It feels like you don’t even think about it.”

 

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