Love Her Right

by Christina OW

  “You need a working liver to even raise your fist.” Jolie turned to the doctor. “Can’t we still do the transplant?”

  He shook his head. “We don’t harvest organs from pregnant women. It’s too dangerous, for both the baby and the mother.”

  So then there was only one option left to save her brother. It didn’t surprise her how easy she made the decision. It was just not normal. And yet she couldn’t bring herself to care how abnormal it was.

  “How soon can you perform a DNC? I’d like my brother to have a piece of my liver as soon as possible.”

  “An abortion?” Jase whizzed, pulling his hand away from under hers in disgust. “I’d die first before I let that happen!”

  Jolie shrugged, wishing his words had moved her, but she felt nothing, she just didn’t care. “You might just get your wish.”

  “Are you trying to use me as an excuse to get rid of that baby?”

  Jolie leaned back in the chair and closed her eyes. “I just found out a few minutes ago that I’m pregnant. You make it sound like I’ve been planning this for days.”

  “Either way, Mrs. Masters, this hospital doesn’t perform abortions. I suggest you get another donor, Mr. Simmons.”

  Jolie opened her eyes and stared at the doctor. He looked as serious as he sounded. She turned to Jase. “Well, you do know what this means?”

  He groaned shaking his head. “I haven’t spoken to them in four years.”

  She closed her eyes and said, “Family reunion. Yippee! Just what I need.”

  * * * *

  Jolie opened the door and walked into her apartment, relieved at the silence. She couldn’t handle Miles’s energy at the moment because she was beyond exhausted. All she wanted to do was lay in bed. But...where was the babysitter? She walked into the room and immediately wished she could turn around and run out the door. But that would be useless. She was tired, and he was fast.

  “Jolie, we need to talk,” Mac said holding up Miles’s baby picture. “Why didn’t you tell me I have a son?”

  She dumped her handbag on the chair and moved into the kitchen. She reached in for a beer then put it back. She couldn’t even drown him out with alcohol. What did depressed pregnant women do when they needed a diversion from the shit their lives had become? She could eat. She pulled out her leftover birthday cake and settled herself on the couch.

  “I asked you a question, Jolie!” he barked down at her.

  She took a bite of the cake before she spoke. “Did you get my letters?”

  At least he was man enough to look ashamed. She placed her cake on the table and went into her bedroom. Reaching under the bed she pulled out five shoe boxes packed with letters and went back into the living room. She dropped them on the floor and went back to the couch and her cake.

  “Those are over four years of returned letters informing you of the birth of your son, each with a photo of him. Anymore stupid questions you’d like to ask?” she asked nonchalantly, putting another bite of cake in her mouth.

  He fell onto the couch next to her, his elbows on his knees, and his head in his hands. She couldn’t help but admire him, his new body. While she’d grown frumpy, with a bird nest for hair, he’d actually filled out more, looking taller than his six-foot-three. She smiled at the memory of her concerned OBGYN when she was pregnant with Miles. He thought she had gestational diabetes until she’d described how big Mac was. Even now, Miles was big for his age, and she’d taken pride in telling those shocked by it that he took after his giant father.

  But currently, she felt anything but pride for the giant.

  “Why are you still here?” she asked bluntly.

  He turned to look at her, his brows knitted together. “What?”

  “I’m sure I didn’t stutter, and I’m sure Tara is waiting for you at your new home.”

  Was that pain she felt in her chest? First she smiled at a fond memory and now she hurt just thinking about Tara in a home that should have been hers. Wow! She couldn’t even depend on her depression to commit long term.

  “Jase called me.”

  “Ah!” she nodded, “here to make sure I don’t kill your baby?”

  He frowned sitting up, clearly hurt by what she just said. And yet again she couldn’t summon the appropriate emotion to even care. Welcome back depression!

  “Were you going to do it to spite me? I know you hate me, but why take it out on the baby?”

  She chuckled. “So how long after your heart felt speech before you abandon me again? Because if you remember clearly, Miles was the reason we got married and you abandoned me right after you got your spousal rights. Something you seem to do to me every chance you get. Screw me, get me pregnant, and then leave me.”

  He went back to cradling his head. “I’m so sorry.”

  She took another bite of the cake. “Not good enough.”

  She heard the sniffling first, his body bouncing then the heavy sobs came. She was beyond shocked. The last time he cried like this was the day he found out about his parents’ death. Speaking of the Masters...Jolie pulled his left hand and held it up. It was empty. She stared at Mac’s tears stained face, not the least bit moved. It just pissed her off.

  “Where is your wedding ring, Mac? Did you take it off because it was cramping your style with the ladies?”

  She let his hand go—actually she threw it away from her and went back to eating. He reached into his shirt and pulled a chain out. There hanging and sparkling gold was his wedding ring. That should mean something to her—the fact that he kept it on his chest close to his heart should mean something to her, right? And yet she felt nothing.

  “Don’t lose it. We can hand the rings down to our children, start a tradition. Miles can have yours and if this baby is a girl she can have mine. If it’s a boy, he can have the ring you’ll wear married to Tara.”

  Again with the pain! That woman was annoying the hell out of her dead heart.

  “I’m not marrying Tara,” he confessed, looking her dead in the eye.

  She noticed the tears and his reddening eyes and yet she couldn’t help but laugh. “What? She wasn’t looking forward to being a stepmother?”

  He huffed, shooting off the couch. “Why we broke up doesn’t matter. I want you and Miles to move in with me. I want to fix the mistake I made five years ago. I realize now that you put your life on hold for me and our son while I...” He knelt at her feet, pulling her hands free of the plate and fork and taking them in his. “Please let me make it right. Let me fix what I broke. I want to be a family—I want to look after Miles, the baby, and you. Jolie, you’re depressed, and you need help. I’m ready to step in until you feel well enough.”

  “So that you can abandon me again?” She chuckled pulling her hands free. “I’m not that naive little girl anymore. Yes, I’m depressed, and I think I’ve come really far. I’m sitting here with you and not lying on my bed ignoring my son and ditching work.”

  He sat down on the couch again. “Where is Miles, Jolie?”

  She shrugged. “In his room sleeping.”

  He shook his head. “He isn’t even in the apartment.”

  She nodded taking a bite of the cake.

  “Aren’t you going to ask me where he is?”

  She noticed his voice had climbed an octave. He was getting mad. Too bad. “I’m sure you’re going to tell me either way.”

  “He’s next door—would you stop eating that fucking cake!” he yelled.

  Jolie took one last bite then set the cake down. She looked up at his livid face with a raised brow. “Now what?”

  “Now you either move in with me or I move in with you. And I’m not asking!”

  She shrugged, stood up, and moved past him. “Do what you want. It’s a free country.”

  He grabbed her arm and pulled her back to him. He trapped her against him with one arm around her waist, and held her head in place tilted up to him with his hand around her chin. Tears ran down his cheeks as his lips trembled. He was hurting a
nd she couldn’t feel sorry for him.

  “Did I do this to you, Jolie? Did my cowardice and selfishness do this to you?”

  Jolie felt her cheek get wet. As much as she wished it was his tears dripping down on her, the blur in her one eye told her otherwise. Her throat burned with fresh emotion and she knew it wouldn’t be long before she was bawling again.

  “Yes, Mac, loving you did this to me, and you don’t know how much I wish I could make it stop.”

  “The hurt...or the love?” he croaked.

  She stared deep into the eyes that once mesmerized her and said, “Both.”

  * * * *

  Mac watched his son as he ran around his room, trying to take it all in at once. The excitement and joy he saw on his face eased his guilt some. Jolie had done a great job with him. He was truly happy without a care in the world. Miles looked just like him when he was his age. His grandmother would have gone nuts over him, Mac just knew it. Which made him wonder about the Simmons.

  A year ago, after he finished his sixth tour in the Middle East, he’d gone to his parents’ house. He wasn’t sure if Jolie had sold it yet, though he hoped she hadn’t. He couldn’t imagine the house not being as he left it, the walls echoing of his parents’ memory. It was the only home he knew, his parents had bought the place when they found out he was coming. And he couldn’t imagine it not being his home, especially when he needed to reminisce, to feel their presence any time he wanted, especially when missing them began to hurt so bad. He’d come to think of it as his refuge while he was away. But when he went home on medical discharge after their Humvee hit a land mine, it wasn’t the refuge he’d always dreamed about. There were no memories, no warmth to comfort him. There was just silence, as if his own home was ashamed of him. Each night he spent there, the nightmares haunted him. The sounds of his team members screaming, the images of blood and severed limbs, the cold feel of their bodies as life left their bodies were always waiting for him the moment he closed his eyes. But what was worse, each night Jolie’s face replaced that of one of a different team members either hurt or dead, begging him not to leave her, and he would wake up in a cold sweat.

  A week, he’d spent one week in that house without walking across the street and asking for his wife because he was too ashamed of himself. He then left, in the middle of the night because he didn’t want to take the risk of being spotted by one of the Simmons, and just drove until he ended up at the airbase in Pendleton. There, someone got him in touch with a counselor to help with his PTSD and a permanent job on base as an engineer. It kept him out of the line of fire, but he still got to do what he loved. That marked the day for a new beginning for him. He put his past behind him, including his wife, and went on with his life. His life became his work and during his free time he occupied it with women until the day he met Tara. He wasn’t sure exactly how to describe their romance, but she demanded much from him and he found himself wanting to give her everything. He fell in love with her and Jolie became a distant memory.

  After dating for six months he proposed to Tara during her last class of the day in the school she worked at with an audience of twenty toddlers. She’d cried, said yes, and the rug rats had cheered—just like a great romance movie. They began to plan their lives and he bought a home in Kennewick, close to her school and one hour drive to his place of work. It was perfect, until Jolie walked into his room.

  He hadn’t recognized her at first. She looked frumpy in her pink cleaning uniform, like it was wearing her instead of the other way around. Her hair was tied in a loose bun on top of her head with wisps of it falling around her face. Forgetting her exhausted and rugged appearance, she didn’t look a day over eighteen. Just the sight of her and everything he’d been trying to forget came crushing back. He wasn’t sure what to do or say, he just stood there frozen in shame before she pounced on him. As hard as he tried to fight her off she still aroused him like no one had ever before or since. He took her then, like a man starved of his greatest desire loving the little sighs she made with every plunge he pushed inside her. He loved how her nails dug into his ass as he pumped faster into her, propelled by her mounting cries of passion. And when she writhed under him as her orgasm built, he felt like the king of the world knowing only he could bring her to such heights. He felt devious, waiting for her to come down from the clouds before he took her in his mouth shattering her calm, tasting every inch of her creamy white skin, marking her before he made the ultimate claim, spilling himself and branding her from the inside. It had been pure heaven, something he hadn’t felt since the first time they were together five years ago. Something he’d sought after with every bed he visited since and something, as much as he hated to admit it, he never felt with Tara.

  And once the hunger that had been gnawing annoyingly at him for five years was satisfied, he came back to reality and the words slipped out of his mouth without a thought. In the aftermath of hours of exquisite love making, he’d asked for a divorce so that he could marry someone else.

  He’ll never forget the look on her face for as long as he lived. It wasn’t just pain it was tortured anguish that he knew very well. He’d felt that when the cops told him his parents had died. He reached for her wanting to explain, to say something that would make it better, but she pulled away, fat teardrops falling quietly from her eyes. She’d then gotten dressed and ran out of the house and out of his life. That was the moment he realized he still loved her, that he couldn’t live without her, and there was no way he could marry Tara.

  He’d searched for her and instead found Jase. He wasn’t too happy to hear from him, in fact he had hung up after demanding that Mac leave his sister alone. He’d caused her enough pain to last her a lifetime, but Mac couldn’t do it, he couldn’t leave Jolie alone. When he was called away for a five week assignment, that choice was taken from him. That day he was at Jolie’s apartment was the day he’d returned home to find a message from Jase on his answering machine.

  He’d been shocked, then ecstatic to find out Jolie was pregnant, then outraged by the end of the message. Jase had left him directions to her home and when he got there, a boy who looked around five years old pounced on him screaming ‘daddy’s home’ and ‘mommy will be so happy’. That’s when it hit him that he had more than one child and the guilt consumed him. Jolie had made sure his son knew him, and Mac hated himself for his own selfishness. He spent the day with his son as he waited for Jolie to come back. When the babysitter had to go home for an emergency, the lady next door took Miles—he still teared up at the honor Jolie paid to his father—and left him to wait for Jolie. He’d spent that time exploring the home that could fit in his master bedroom, cursing himself for leaving his family in such a dire state.

  Now I’m making it right. He had to keep telling himself that to keep the guilt at bay.

  “Miles, why don’t you put your toys where you want them to go and I’ll go check on Mom?”

  Miles stopped in the middle of the room, the joy washed off his face replaced by worry. Mac picked him up, loving the weight of his son and sat on the race car bed with him. “What’s wrong, kiddo?”

  Miles placed his little hand palm flat against his, and for a moment, Mac marveled at the huge difference in size. If he was to close his palm, it would completely swallow his son’s.

  “Mommy is sick,” he whispered.

  Mac felt like he had a rock in his stomach. “Yes, Mommy is sick but it’s our job to help her feel better. Before you know it, she’ll be as happy and fun as she used to be.”

  Miles looked up at him, his lower lip trembling. “Promise?”

  How could he when it was his fault his mother wasn’t his mother anymore? But he’d made a vow to fix his mistakes and maybe that would be the beginning of Jolie’s recovery. “I promise.” He put Miles down and stood up. “Now arrange your room the way you want it while I go check on your mom.”

  Mac ruffled his hair and that earned him a toothy grin, which warmed his heart before he left to make go
od on his promise.

  He found Jolie in the master bedroom, sitting on the lounge chair looking out the window. Her bags were still packed and by the door where he left them. He was going to have to unpack them himself, just like he’d packed up her apartment while she sat on the couch eating ice cream and cake with a blank expression on her face. Even when he’d threatened to give her furniture away to Goodwill, she did nothing but sit there with that blank expression on her face. And when he’d actually carried out his threat, she’d sat down on the floor where the couch used to be, not even caring enough to watch as everything she owned got carried out of her home until there was just her and her tub of ice cream left.

  He’d been forced to lead her out to his SUV after he’d packed it up with a few of their belongings and settled Miles in his car seat. He’d put her into the passenger seat, done her belt and closed her door while she just ate at her ice cream. He should have probably been happy that she was eating, feeding their baby, but he’d been so close to throwing her ice cream out the window a number of times. What would be the use? She’d still sit there with the spoon in her mouth like a zombie ignoring him and their son.

  A week of moving and forging a relationship with his son and with each passing day, Jolie was more and more of a recluse. He hoped to God it wouldn’t be like this when the baby came because he wasn’t sure he could handle an energetic four year old, a new baby and a depressed wife on top of his work commitments.

  He unpacked her bags, putting her clothes in the walk in closet and her toiletry in the ensuite bathroom. She didn’t have much which bothered him considering how much stuff Miles had. She’d sacrificed even the common necessities to provide for their son.

  “Jolie, I have some time off this week, how about we go shopping?”

  His question was met with silence. When he turned to her, he noticed she hadn’t moved an inch. He sat down next to her, pulling her until she faced him. “Jolie, do you want to go shopping tomorrow?”

  She stared blankly at him and said in a bored tone, “Why?”