Giving Up for You

by L. M. Carr

  “We’ll take it slow. You have to learn to trust me again. I know that.” I smooth back her hair and kiss her forehead. “Please give me that chance.”

  “You think you can just walk back into my life and things will be fine? You think we can just go back to the way things used to be? We can’t! Too much has happened. It’s not just about us. There are children involved.” I see panic in her eyes. She’s looking for an excuse to push me away. It’s her defense mechanism talking not her heart.

  “You’ve just turned my life upside down when I’m finally getting it back together.” She chokes on her words and wipes a single tear. “You broke me.”

  “Let me fix what I broke. Please.” I don’t care that I’m begging. I would do anything right now to hear her say the words I want to hear. To say the words I need to hear.

  “God, I have so many questions. I don’t even know where to start.” She steps away to get a napkin, wipes her face and then her nose. “I hate what you did. You have no idea what it was like for me.” She grabs another paper towel. “I felt like I was dying inside.”

  I tense at her words that send a chill through my spine. Little does she know that it was the same for me. There were days that I didn’t think I would survive, but then I looked into the faces of my kids and knew that I just had to breathe. They are worth the fight.

  “Mia, I know this is crazy. I know I’m a bastard for coming back, begging for another chance. Please forgive me.”

  “Forgive you for what? For leaving? For being a bastard? Or for begging for another chance?” Her harsh words ring true in my ears.

  “All of it!” I nearly shout and then soften my tone, “Except the second chance.” I tip her chin upward so she’s forced to look at me. “Please tell me that there’s a chance for us.”

  “I have a million questions for you, but answer this one thing for me . . . did your leaving have something to do with the phone call you got on your birthday?”

  Fuck! I don’t want to lie to her, but I’m not prepared to tell her about that call and what the police found when they discovered Chris’ body.

  “Yes.” I nod solemnly. “And no.”

  “Yes and no? That doesn’t make any sense.”

  To a rational person who isn’t ridden with guilt maybe, but to me it makes complete sense.

  “Just believe me when I tell you that I did what I thought I had to do. I did what I thought was best for you.”

  I know she doesn’t believe me or understand, but she doesn’t push the issue. I know her too well; she’s not done discussing this.

  “What else do you want to know?” She needs to see my transparency. As long as I don’t cause her pain, I’ll be completely honest with her.

  “God, I don’t know. I can’t think right now. I should write it all down again,” she whispers under her breath.

  “Again?” I ask. What’s she talking about?

  I visibly see her body stiffen. “Nothing. I’ve been keeping a journal.” She shrugs her shoulders, dismissing it. Under normal circumstances I would let it go, but her stiffened body tells me something’s not right. Awful ideas of what could be written in that journal threaten to send me over the edge. It would kill me if I found out she wrote about men she has been with. It would kill me.

  “What exactly did you write in your journal?”

  “Stuff.”

  “Like what?” I prod, pushing for an answer that might relieve my racing mind. There’s a reason she’s being coy. I know she’s not being entirely truthful and that bothers me. My possessiveness of her has never been a secret. Anyone can see how insanely jealous I can be when it comes to her and she knows it. Maybe she thinks I’ll be mad at her. Maybe she’s embarrassed by her behavior. This guessing is too much to handle. I need answers and I need them now.

  “Come with me.” I lead her by the hand and lower myself on the couch, pulling her down on my lap, but she’s hesitant and chooses to sit across from me on the recliner. I hate that she won’t let me touch her.

  “I need to think about this and I can’t think when you touch me.” Her honest confession makes me smile because it’s exactly the same for me. She turns my brain into a jumbled mess.

  We sit across from each other, staring. There’s so much to talk about but neither of us knows where to begin.

  “You scare me. This scares me.”

  I start to get up to move to her, but she shakes her head no. “Stay over there.” She pulls at her silver pendant hanging from her necklace.

  Big brown eyes look at me and blink furiously. I swear I can almost see the millions of questions circling around inside.

  “You realize how messed up this is, don’t you? We were engaged to be married. You flipped out, broke up with me, moved across the country and now suddenly you’ve come back like nothing ever happened.” She looks at me, stating the obvious. She doesn’t know that not a minute has gone by that I haven’t thought about her, haven’t missed her.

  “I know how it sounds and what it looks like. Believe me, I know.”

  “Then explain it all because I’m still having a hard time understanding.”

  It would take days to explain everything and I don’t think she would ever fully understand.

  “I gave you up because I love you. I know that doesn’t make sense, but it’s true.” I scratch my head with my fingertips and proceed to massage my neck.

  I want to fall to my knees and grovel, forcing her to listen to all I have to say.

  “You broke my heart because you loved me? Oh God, that’s ridiculous!” She pulls her legs in underneath her lean body and crosses her arms. “So . . . what happens now? Your house? The kids? You can’t just pack up and move back here.”

  The hell I can’t! I’d do anything to be here with her. “I’ll buy another house and my kids will be so happy. They hate living in California.” I’m embarrassed to admit that to her because she’ll know what a selfish bastard I really am. I put my kids through hell because I couldn’t deal with life. I think back to Father’s Day when Maddie gave me a card that she made telling me that I was the World’s Best Dad. Luke sat there and said I would be the World’s Best Dad if we moved home and lived with Mia and Brady. That night, after I stroked my dick to thoughts of her, I crawled into bed and cried like a damn baby.

  “Why do you have to buy another house? What happened to yours?” Her brows wrinkle.

  “I just sold it.” I shake my head in disbelief at the timing of everything. “I was going to keep it, but I didn’t think there was a point. I didn’t think I was ever coming back.”

  I think I’ve shocked her with my words. “You weren’t coming back? What’s changed? Why come back now?” she asks suspiciously. “Have you talked to Mike recently?”

  I’m not really sure what Mike has to do with anything, although he was definitely acting weird when I last saw him.. “Yeah, I saw him yesterday, I think.” I look up to the white ceiling where I notice a huge water stain and try to remember. My days and nights have rolled one into the other lately. “Why do you ask?”

  “I’ll be right back.” She darts up the stairs, her ponytail swishing from side to side. I hear the floorboards in her room squeak. Now that I’m sitting, I realize that my head is still pounding. I rise slowly and go in search of some more Motrin. Unlike most people who keep their medications in the bathroom, Mia keeps hers in the kitchen cabinet on the second shelf. I run the tap to cool the water and open the cabinet door. Two things happen at once. I reach for the Motrin bottle which seems larger than normal and notice Mia is standing there in the door way, white as a ghost.

  I drop the bottle and rush to her. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

  Her panicked eyes glance around the kitchen before settling back on me. “I . . .” She blinks furiously. “I thought you left.”

  My gut wrenches. I will prove to her that I’m not going anywhere. Even if it’s the last thing I do. “Mia,” I say opening my arms and wait for her to step in, “I’m no
t going anywhere.”

  Instead she places her phone on the counter and offers me two Motrin and water to quell my aching head. Within minutes, her phone buzzes with an incoming text from Mike and jealousy rages through me. “Mike?” I raise an eyebrow.

  “Mike.” Her eyes open wide, letting me know it’s Mike Matthews. Now I know exactly how she felt when she saw Dawn and Lauren’s names on my phone. “I’m babysitting MJ tomorrow night.” Happiness shines through her bright smile. I’ve missed that smile.

  “Do you watch him often?” I ask, thinking about the little portable crib I saw in her room when I was looking for her and the twins the other day.

  Her shoulders shrug. “Here and there. Why?”

  “There’s a crib in your bedroom.”

  Her eyes look away from me and I can tell she’s nervous by her erratic movement of her throat as she swallows. “How do you know about that? About the crib?”

  “The other day when I came to get the kids and I couldn’t find you guys anywhere, I looked upstairs and saw it.”

  “Oh.”

  The underlying tension between us is so thick. I watch her as she reaches for her phone and purses her lips. “Dammit,” she mumbles, looking upward in annoyance as she shakes her head briefly. She jumps up and announces that she’s got to jump in the shower and go.

  “Go? Where do you have to go?” The thought that she’s leaving makes my head hurt even more. I want to spend every second with her. Call me a pussy, I don’t care.

  “I have some errands to run and I’m meeting Pete for lunch.” I’m surprised by her calmness. Five minutes ago she was panicked at the thought that I left and now she’s ready to leave like it’s no big deal. My forehead wrinkles in confusion.

  “Can I . . .”

  “What? Can you what?” She looks up from her phone and asks.

  “Nothing.” I shake my head at my stupidity. I guess I expected her to drop everything to spend every moment with me.

  “I hate when you do that. Just say it!” Her words come through gritted teeth.

  I can’t help but smile. The feisty Mia I met last summer emerges and holds nothing back.

  “I was just going to ask if I can see you later.”

  She hesitates before saying that she doesn’t know if that’s a good idea. “I don’t know what time I’m going to be home.”

  The internal struggle in her is clearly visible. Maybe I’m pushing too hard. I should probably back off and give her some space.

  “Can I take you to dinner?” So much for giving her space.

  Her chest rises and falls in a sigh. “I don’t know.”

  Just as I’m about to ask why, she interrupts me. “You have to understand. I’m kind of in shock here. I have a lot to think about and consider.”

  I nod in understanding.

  “Why don’t you text me later and I’ll let you know.” In true fashion, once again she comforts me.

  “You have my number.” I state, knowing that even though she didn’t return my text, she’s got my number.

  A small smile spreads across her face. “I do.”

  We face each other, standing silently before she offers to give me a ride to my car. Anxiety, like a rush of adrenaline, shoots through me as I realize that if she gives me a ride, she’ll see that my rental is parked outside of a sleazy bar known for the hordes of women wanting the pleasure of men for the night or even an hour. I wasn’t looking to hook up with anyone; I just had to go somewhere that didn’t remind me of her so I could drink myself into a stupor. I don’t need to explain that to her; I somehow doubt she’d understand.

  “I’ll just call a cab. It’s fine. You go and do your errands.”

  “Seriously, it’s fine. I’m probably going that way anyway.”

  I try to brush it off. I don’t want her getting suspicious. I know I have to earn her trust and this definitely would not be a good start.

  She starts to laugh and shake her head, but it’s not a humorous laugh; it’s mocking. “Where’s your car?” she asks, knowingly. I can see her cheeks begin to flush shades of pink and then red.

  My hands scrub my face and run through my short hair and I look at her in defeat. “It’s at the bar on West Street.” I feel like a little kid as I admit this to her.

  “I knew it! Ughh,” she yells. “You are such a . . . a . . . forget it!”

  “Forget what?” I can hear the panic in my own voice.

  “This! You come here and tell me all this stuff, knowing that you were at a bar trying to pick up someone to fuck. You are unbelievable. And to think I almost believed you, but you’re all the same.” Her voice reaches an octave that I’ve never heard before.

  “Mia. Listen to me.” I reach for her arms, grasping her firmly, holding her still while she struggles to get free. “Listen to me.” I lower my face to meet her eyes straight on, enunciating each word slowly. “I went to the bar because I couldn’t stand the thought of you with Shane. I wasn’t looking for anyone.” The thought of another woman’s hands on me is repulsive. Immediately the image of Dawn’s long, acrylic nails, running through my hair flashes in my mind and I shiver. Taking a much needed, cleansing breath, I sigh. “And I came here last night because I wanted to beat the shit out of him, but mostly because I hate being away from you. I hate it.” I stare at her. She needs to see the truth in my words, in my eyes. “That’s it. That’s the absolute truth.”

  “I don’t know what to believe.” Her shoulders slump as her eyes blink furiously. “I have to go.” I release my hold on her as she turns to go upstairs. Moments later I hear the shower running and the thought of her naked body makes my dick twitch in my jeans. I’d give my right arm to go upstairs, step into the shower with her and let the hot water pour over our bodies as I make sweet love to her. Instead, I call for a cab and wait for it to arrive.

  I go into the kitchen and rummage around, looking for a piece of paper so I can leave her a note. I don’t want her to come down and find me gone without a single word. I scan the kitchen and find a pad of paper by the calendar. My eyes make their way to the calendar as I rip off a piece of paper and reach for the pen. The red circle around Thursday’s date gets my attention and tells me that she has a doctor’s appointment at ten o’clock with a Dr. Petruzzi. I can’t help but wonder what kind of doctor it might be. I hope to God it isn’t the name of a therapist. It would kill me to know that our break up sent her back to that dark place.

  I scribble a note telling her that I left, but that I will text her later about taking her out for dinner. I sign it with a simple A.

  I DRIVE AROUND town aimlessly because I don’t really have any errands to run and I’m not meeting Pete until later on today. I just needed some time to think without him being so close. There are too many things swirling around in my head. Why now? Why come back all of a sudden? I nearly lost it when he asked about the baby crib or saw the bottle of vitamins. Something tells me that my best friend’s husband might hold some answers, but he’s really pissing me off. Why can’t he just mind his own damn business?

  I decide to a make a quick stop at the grocery store. Pushing the carriage up and down the aisles, I think about him. Everything reminds me of him. I pick out a round cantaloupe and squeeze it, checking for ripeness and I think about him and his hands on me. I squirm uncomfortably, knowing I’m in the grocery store and need to get home to sort myself out. Again. Even the pulsating jets from the extra long shower this morning did little to satisfy my need.

  The note he left for me on the island made me smile. The block lettering of his script and the lines under the word “will” made me shiver as I thought about how he is always in command. He’s so confident and not afraid to take charge. That’s one of the things I’ve always loved about him. It’s just one of them. Last year when he pursued me, he was demanding and relentless until I was his.

  “Hey, beautiful girl!” Angie calls to me as she pushes the double doors open and steps out, heading back to her register.

&nb
sp; “Hey yourself. How are you?” I lean in and give her a quick hug. She smells like scented baby oil.

  “Oh you know, same ol’ same ol’.” Her eyes twinkle when she mentions her husband’s name. “Mr. Clayton keeps me busy.”

  We walk side by side chatting about nothing in particular until I freeze at the mention of his name. “You do know that man of yours is back, don’t you?”

  I eye her, displaying my annoyance. “First of all, he’s not my man. And secondly, yes, I know he’s here.”

  “Well, let me tell you.” She purses her lips like she’s a duck and her eyebrows touch her hairline. Her hands reach around back to secure her blue apron. “I sure gave him a ‘what for’ when he came in here the other day.”

  “Why? Why would you do that?” Annoyance resonates in my voice. Why can’t people mind their own damn business anymore?

  “Because girl, he hurt you and he needs to know that.”

  “He knows. Believe me, he knows.” I let my annoyance fly away on a sigh as I set my groceries on the conveyor belt.

  She taps a few keys on her register and proceeds to ring up my order.

  “Is he back for good?”

  That’s a great question to which I have no answer so I simply shrug and tell her that I don’t really know. Something deep down tells me that as soon as he finds out that I’m pregnant, he will stay. I hand over my debit card and watch as she slides it through the machine. The sound of a high pitched voice calling “Auntie” startles me. I turn to see Shelby smiling as she and Mike round the corner with MJ tucked safely in his car seat carrier. A giant smile spreads across my face when I see my best friend reaching for a hug. God, I miss her. I miss seeing her every day. I miss hanging out with her like we used to. I miss those long, lazy days at the lake. I miss cocktails at the Pour House. Marriage and motherhood have certainly changed a lot of things.

  Loading up the rest of my bags, I push the carriage and park it next to where Mike is standing. He’s watching me carefully. “Hi, Mike.” I give him a quick peck on his unshaven cheek and lean over to talk to the baby. He’s all smiles today; hopefully, he’ll stay like this for me tomorrow night.