by J. L. Mac
“You said…You called me Kat.” Ben kept his eyes directed away from me as if it pained him to even look at me. He stuffed his hands into his pockets, casually, and stood in front of the windows. He stood stock still and gazed out at the city.
“You should go.”
“Ben, I-”
“Leave!”
I started at his demand, and tears spilled onto my cheek and rolled down my face. I brushed them away hating what he made me feel. Sadness. Defeat. Regret. Guilt. Love. I sniffled and collected my things to leave. I made my way to his office door, and I felt his eyes on me. I turned just in time to catch a glimpse of him turning back to the windows. He didn’t even want me to see him. I repulsed him. I was so consumed, fighting with ghosts from my past that I let Ben and possibly my future, slip through my fingers. I knew I loved him more than anything on earth when he told me to leave his office. That pang of guilt and regret is something you only feel when the one person who holds your heart has been hurt. Ben was hurting. I was the one who was to blame, and I hated myself for that. I wanted nothing more than to make him better. To make me better; to make us better together. He couldn’t stand the sight of me and quite frankly neither could I.
Chapter 27
Left at the platform
Seven weeks later
Not possible. There’s no way.
I was lost in my thoughts while I made my way, rather awkwardly back to my car in the clinic parking lot. I was walking really strangely because my cast had just been taken off. It had been the only thing that remotely excited me in weeks. I was moments from taking nail clippers to that stupid cast. I didn’t care that it would take me a year to get the damn thing off. I was sick and tired of having a troll club for a leg. My walk was off since I was used to hobbling around my apartment with the hard, bulky reminder of the ordeal I had gone through. I unlocked my Honda and waited for the initial wave of Texas heat to escape through my open door before daring to get in. I slid into the seat, started my car, flipped my AC to full blast and stared off into space like some idiotic-half-wit.
“How?” I asked myself.
What I thought would be a simple doctor’s appointment to have my cast removed turned into a life altering event, and it all started with my agreeing to begin a prescription of antidepressants. I had been a basket case since Ben and I broke up. I quit the firm instead of taking a leave of absence. Tossed aside my vendetta by handing over everything I had including my personal notes to the lead detective assigned the Murray case which included the lovely neighborhood psycho, Janis. It wasn’t so much that I was giving up as it was I simply had physical and emotion wounds that needed licking and loads of junk food to eat. I had no more to give. No fight left in me. I had lost the man I knew I loved, and it was all my fault. He wanted and needed me, but I had been too consumed with myself. The ‘Happily Ever After’ train left the station with me standing on the platform.
After my kidnapping I was informed by my doctor that if I felt a specific list of symptoms that I should consider taking an antidepressant. I declined the medication initially but later realized that I was in a really bad place emotionally and promised myself and Cheyenne that I would tell the doc when I went back in to have my cast removed. I asked for the medication as I promised I would. That’s when the doc informed me that I would be required to give a urine sample before they could prescribe the medication.
I would have liked to have had a photo taken of my face when the doctor returned to the exam room with the shocking news that I could not take the medication we discussed because it was not approved for pregnant women. I would have framed a photo of my face when he told me the news. I imagine it was priceless. I left the clinic in a daze with a referral to see an OBGYN. I drove home and thought about what my next move would be. For once, I was glad Cheyenne had moved out after Tucker had proposed. I missed her every day of course, but I was thankful that she was not there at the apartment. If she had been there she would see that something was wrong with me and pry until I caved in and told all. She had moved in with Tucker a couple of weeks before.
It took a lot of convincing her that I was happy for her and I thought she should go for it. That was a raging-gargantuan-bold-faced-lie of course but I threw a fit and insisted she go. She finally conceded to my insisting and headed off into the metaphorical sunset with her new fiancé at her side. It made me sick. I was happy for her, but if I was being honest, I was swimming in jealousy. Although it was the innocent, normal type of jealousy, and not the v ané indictive sort, it was still jealousy, which made me feel no better about my shitty love life. I had a man who had me move in with him before I went and trashed it all to hell. It was the only line of thinking that I managed to cling to all day, every day. When I made it back to my apartment, I laid on my couch for the bulk of the two days following the life changing appointment. I watched mindless TV and stared off into space for nearly two entire days. It had to be a record.
The only thing that roused me from my mindless existence was the appointment with the OBGYN that I had been referred to. I knew I should tell Ben. He deserved to know that I was carrying his child even if we weren’t seeing each other or speaking. None of that should have mattered. Withholding the news about my pregnancy would be wrong. I couldn’t bring myself to do that to the man I had fallen in love with so effortlessly. I had been so broken hearted and depressed since we stopped speaking and seeing each other. I proved myself right. I had too much baggage. Too many scars. Too much past to overcome. To many damn hang-ups. I could never be what Ben needed, what he deserved. I despised myself for that. I would have done anything for him, but I couldn’t forget or let go of my past. Now that I was carrying a tiny little life inside me, I had so much to think about. The first thing I needed to do was to tell Ben that he was going to be a father.
Or I could just move away and raise this baby alone. I could do it. Women do the single mom thing every day and make it along just fine.
I shrugged giving my thought free reign to wonder through possibilities. Inside I knew that I wanted Ben to know and I wanted him involved. I could imagine him talking to my swollen belly, holding my hand during labor and delivery, holding our baby in his strong arms. My chest felt heavy, and I wanted to melt into my bed at my empty apartment, and cry for days, weeks even. I forced myself to take a few cleansing breathes to force back the tears. The clock on the microwave said 12:27. I knew Ben would likely be having lunch right now. Tears threatened again as I remembered sharing my lunch hour with him. I missed him so. My hand absentmindedly caressed my belly as if touching the space that sheltered his child would somehow ease my longing for him. I carried a part of him within me. It only made me ache for him more. I took another cleansing breathe and prepared myself to go to Ben,s office. It took no time to get ready, and I pulled into a parking space at the firm at 12:58. I took the keys out of the ignition and gazed down at my belly. I couldn’t believe I was there to tell Ben the news. I was still in shock mostly, but I knew I had to tell him. I drew in a deep breath while praying for strength. I slung my purse over my shoulder and began to get out. When I saw Ben’s BMW glide into the parking lot, I froze to watch him. He gracefully walked around the fancy car after he parked. He opened the passenger door, and my heart sunk to my gut and tore into a million tiny pieces.
No! Please, no!
I screamed inwardly. The breath left my lungs, and I immediately felt ill. I continued watching as Ben opened the door for his passenger to exit. She slid out of the seat and smiled lovingly at Ben.
“Oh God, no,” I muttered to myself.
He has moved on. He has a girlfriend.
Ben smiled back at the leggy brunette. She was tall and slender, dressed nicely, and she looked sophisticated. Her makeup was nicely done. Her hair was cut into a choppy kind of style that rested at her shoulders and shined in the sunlight. It pained me to admit she was attractive. In that moment, she looked like such a lovely lady that I couldn’t be mad at her. I couldn’t be j
ealous. I couldn’t find flaws in her. She was with Ben. He was gorgeous, successful, and so many other things that women look for in
a man. This mess was my fault.
If I had just given us a shot; a real chance. If I hadn’t been so damned consumed with myself and my past.
I continued watching as she placed a chaste kiss on his cheek, and they hugged. They both smiled and spoke for a moment then she slunk across the parking lot to her own car and left. Ben waved at her and watched as she drove away, then went into the building. I sunk low into my seat and rested my head on the steering wheel. I was crushed. A familiar feeling swept over me. Consumed me. Engulfed me. It was the feeling that I had only once before felt. It was the same feeling when Aidan told me that I had lost our child in my car accident. It was heartbreak and devastation in the purest form. The feeling squeezed in around me and crushed my chest. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t do anything but grip my hand to my chest as I struggled to remain conscious. My shoulders rocked and shuddered as I began to sob forcefully. It truly hurt. I wasn’t sure how long I sat in my car sobbing. I forced myself to stop when I realized that my eyes were swollen and burning. My breathing was uneven as I wiped my face without concern for makeup and dug my keys out of my lap.
Chapter 28
Gag-order
I somehow managed to drive home without killing myself or someone else. I curled up into my bed and turned off my phone just before the heart wrenching sobs began again. I cried until exhaustion overwhelmed me, and I drifted off. I dreamed of a beautiful baby girl with blue-green eyes and chocolate brown hair swaddled in a pink blanket as Ben rocked her slowly back and forth in his loving arms. I woke from sleep to a banging noise. I rubbed my puffy eyes and rolled out of my bed. I swung my bedroom door open to a very irritated Cheyenne. “Just where the hell have you been? I have been trying to call you since yesterday. What the hell happened to your face, Kat? Jesus!”
“Hmph! Your humor and wit goes unmatched Cheyenne. Really amusing,” I said flatly as I turned my back to her and crawled back into my bed.
“Stop being a smart ass. I’m serious you look terrible. Is it Ben?”
“Don’t,” I demanded then pulled my quilt over my he"Calibrad to hide my face.
“It is Ben.” She said sympathetically.
“Cheyenne, I don’t really want to discuss it. Please don’t push the issue.” I admonished, and she sighed in resignation.
“Okay but I’m here when you are ready to talk.”
Don’t hold your breath.
“Tucker brought me over so that we could get the rest of my things over to his house, well our house, I guess.” She giggled like a teenager. I rolled my eyes beneath my quilt at her pleased laughter. It was wrong of me and extremely selfish, but I just couldn’t conjure one ounce of happiness at that moment for my best friend who had found and gotten engaged to the man who truly was her soul mate. They were happy and eager to get married. He moved her into his lovely home and gave her anything that her heart desired. It stunk. It made my skin crawl. I was being shallow I knew, but didn’t have discipline to control the green eyed monster called envy. I wanted to run in the opposite direction from society as a whole and find some deserted island to inhabit. As lovely as the idea sounded, it was just a daydream. However, I did have plenty of money in my savings to live off of, and through my digging into the whole John the criminal, I became quite educated in the field of high yield investments.
Hmm, maybe I can play the stock market. Take a risk and hope for a hefty return.
I mused inwardly.
Something to focus on. I need to focus on something. I’ll play the investment game, and figure out where the baby and I will live.
I was pleased with my plans, though I knew gambling on the investments was irresponsible with a child on the way. I wasn’t sure if I would be staying in Dallas. I wasn’t even sure if I would tell Ben about the baby after all. He was obviously dating someone else, and I simply refused to be the knocked -up ex who came calling and screwed up his new relationship. I wouldn’t embarrass myself. The thought of telling him about the baby while knowing damn well that he had moved on made me feel sick to my stomach and completely cheap. I didn’t know if I could bring myself to do it. I made the decision to make things work on my own for the time being. There would be no way in hell I would speak a word of the news to anyone until I was far enough along to be more sure that I was having a healthy pregnancy.
Three days later I went to my second OB appointment. Monday, August 26th, 2013. Day 96 since my first day at the firm. I sat in the waiting room staring at the artistic paper machete belly molds that hung on the walls. There were around a dozen of them scattered on the walls hanging like paintings would. The multi-color molds varied in size and shape. Big round bellies, more pointy narrow bellies, wide bellies, small bellies, large bellies. Each mold was from the pelvic bone to the top of the breasts. I ae big ssumed that these had to be cast on the form of real pregnant women. Each one was so unique and real there would be no way to create them artificially.
A petite nurse interrupted my admiration of the art when she called me back to see the Doctor. She was the same nurse that I met at my first appointment a few days prior. At the time, I had only met with the nurse. She collected samples for lab tests to confirm my pregnancy, and I was given a brief rundown of what to expect at my first real appointment. This time, she had me undress and I sat and waited nervously. A knock came from the door.
“Yes, come in.” I said. The older female extended her hand to me and I shook it.
She smiled warmly. “Hello, I am Dr. Lisa Miller, pleasure to meet you Ms. Cooper.”
“Please, call me Kat.”
“Okay, Kat. Let’s get started. We are going to do an ultrasound to determine how far along you are since you are unclear on when your last menstrual period was.” She smiled again, and I suddenly felt like an irresponsible teenager.
How can I be so confused about my dates?
I kicked myself inwardly. I had been so distracted with Ben, the investigation, and our breakup that I didn’t even pay attention to myself. I knew I must have gotten pregnant when I missed two pills while I was being held against my will by John’s goons. I caught up on the two pills I missed as soon as I could. I read the information on the prescription, and it did say that catching up was possible so that’s what I did. I read further after I found out about the baby, and the rest of the paragraph informed me that while you can catch up after missing a pill or two it, comes with decreased effectiveness. In short, screw up, miss pills, you can take them, but you are taking a gamble. Dr. Miller rolled the ultrasound machine to my bedside. The nurse, who stood on the other side of the table, guided my feet into stirrups.
“You may feel a bit of pressure, but that is normal. Here we go.” The screen next to me was all unclear and distorted. I had no clue what I was seeing.
“Mhmm.” Dr. Miller mused. “Just there, Kat. See this?” She pointed to a shape on the screen that looked like a peanut. I gasped and tears filled my eyes.
“Oh, I see it.” I said softly, in complete awe of my tiny baby.
“These are the little buds that will develop into arms and legs. The head is here and that fluttering thing you see here is, the heart.” She said as she pressed a key on the machine and the sound of my babie’s heartbeat filled my ears. It sounded so fast and strong. Tears spilled from my eyes and thoughts of Ben came rushing over me.
Ben. Oh Ben should be here. He should see and hear the baby. Our baby.
“Everything looks and sounds great, Kat. From the measurements it looks like you are about eight weeks pregnant. The baby appears normal and healthy. Congratulations! Would you like pictures?”
“Oh yes please!” After Dr. Miller briefed me on all things early pregnancy, she handed me the ultrasound photos and a prescription for prenatal vitamins. I scheduled my next appointment on my way out of the clinic. Once I was back in my apartment, I found
myself staring at the photos of the baby. I was enchanted with my child already. I couldn’t help but wonder if Cheyenne would ever get to experience what I did earlier that day.
“Oh shit! Cheyenne!” I squealed as I abandoned the bottle of prenatal vitamins and photos on the kitchen counter to retrieve my cell phone. After sending her a short text to let her know I was alive and well, I began to worry about her wedding.
Shit! Shit! Shit! The bridesmaid dress, will it fit? Will I show at all? SHIT!
I stopped pacing the floor of my living room and forced myself to take a deep breath.