“Yes!” I said, trying to keep the tremor out of my voice.
“Holly, I’m going to the office for a bit. I’ll be home for dinner.”
“Fine,” I said, formulating my own plan for the day in my head. As soon as he was gone, I showered and dressed. Then I packed a little overnight bag and called a cab. Then I called the Best Western near the café and made myself a reservation for the night. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do from there, but I did know that today and tonight, I couldn’t be in the penthouse…I couldn’t look at Aiden.
Chapter Thirteen
~
It might make me somewhat of a masochist, but I was glad that I’d overheard that conversation. It made me aware of who I was really dealing with and what this whole arrangement really meant to him. He’d sounded so businesslike, so professional, talking to another woman about her fertility. He was thinking about cancelling my “contract” without even discussing it with me first. I had to stop on my way to the hotel and buy a bottle of tums. My stomach was still churning over it all.
Before I left the apartment I’d cleaned up the breakfast dishes and sat down to compose a note for my “boss.” I wasn’t sure at first what to say, but I decided to just let the words in my heart pour out through my pen:
Aiden: I wanted to let you know that I won’t be home for dinner tonight. I regret to tell you that I overheard your conversation this morning about replacing me. I know to you this is all about business. I have something you need, a womb. Apparently, that womb is not performing up to par. I’m taking too long to conceive and you’re having to endure my miserable company in the process.
I’m so silly. I somehow convinced myself that you had come to enjoy my company and that perhaps you might come to regret me walking away in the end as much as I have. I’m thinking that perhaps I should do it now instead. You obviously have another fish on your hook and you don’t absolutely need me for anything at this point. I’m going to take a night off and do some thinking. I’ll be back tomorrow to let you know what I decide. Maybe you could fill me in on your plans for letting me go then?
I spent the rest of the day arguing with myself about whether or not I should go back and what I should do. I needed to take my mind off of all of this at least for a second. It was Sunday, family day at the facility where my mother was. She couldn’t have visitors for one more month, but she did get phone time. I called and told the receptionist who I was and who I’d like to talk to. There is a list for each patient of those who are allowed to call or visit. I was the only one on hers.
“Hi Mom! How are you doing?” I tried to sound upbeat…it was hard.
“Hi baby girl. Your mama is doing okay. I got almost two months under my belt. I’ve gained a few pounds, my hair stopped falling out and my skin looks awesome.”
“That’s great, Mom. I’m so glad to hear that you’re acclimatizing there. How is the staff? Are they nice?”
“Yes they’re really nice and Holly, I’m glad you made me do this.”
I laughed, “Mother, you did this; I didn’t make you do anything. All of this hard work is on you.”
“I would have never done it if not for your urging. Most adult kids would have taken off by now and let me sort it all out, or drink myself to death, whichever came first.”
“I love you, Mom. I’m not ready to lose you.”
“I love you too, Holly. Thank you again for sticking by me.” I was getting teary eyed again.
“Okay, enough mushy gushy stuff. Tell me about the facility. What is your day like?”
“They keep us really busy. Holly, I can’t even imagine what you had to pay for this place. You must be working double time. I’m so sorry…”
“Mom, happy stuff, remember?”
“Okay,” she said with a chuckle. “Well, we’re on a pretty tight schedule Monday through Friday. On Monday I have my one on one therapy. My therapist is so nice, and she’s been in recovery for ten years herself. She really knows what she’s talking about. Then I have a few groups and on Tuesday and Thursdays I do yoga and Friday, acupuncture. I get a massage on the weekends and they let us go on outings to the beach. I can’t believe you’re paying for all of this…”
“Oh Mother, hush. I want to pay for it. It seems like a great place. I’m so glad that they’re helping you out.”
“They are, honey. I’ll probably always crave it but they’re teaching me how to push those cravings aside and move forward.”
“That’s great, Mom.”
“How’s your work coming along?” she asked me. I didn’t tell her about Aiden, or about not working at the café any longer. I would get around to it. I rubbed my hand across my still flat belly and thought the time will come when I won’t be able to hide it any longer. For now, I didn’t want to worry her.
“It’s going fine, Mom. You know same old…”
We talked for a while longer and after a while, I felt myself feeling better, calmer somehow. My mother hadn’t had that effect on me since I was a kid so it was definitely a good thing. That night when I lay down to go to sleep I had decided to go talk to Aiden the next day before my doctor’s appointment. Maybe he had an explanation…
***
I got up early the next day and the first thing I did was check my phone. I was really surprised that Aiden hadn’t called. Was I just fooling myself again? Did he really care that little that the fact I’d left didn’t faze him at all?
I took a cab to the penthouse and was greeted warmly by the doorman as usual. When I got upstairs, I could tell that something was wrong as soon as I walked in. For one thing, all of the curtains were drawn. It was the middle of the day but it was as dark as night inside the apartment. I switched on a light and was greeted by the grumpy and annoyed voice of my “employer.”
“Shut it off!”
“Aiden? Are you okay?”
“I said, turn it off!” I did as he asked, or demanded I suppose.
“Why are you sitting here in the dark?”
“Why are you back?” he said, his words slurred. He sounded drunk.
“I was hoping that we could talk,” I said. I moved closer as my eyes adjusted to the dim light. When I got close enough I could see that he was still in the same clothes he’d left the house in yesterday morning. His collar was open and his tie was askew. His hair was disheveled which it rarely ever was and he had a ten o’clock shadow on his face and an almost empty bottle of bourbon sitting next to a glass on the table next to him. “You’re drunk,” I said. It just came out because I was so surprised.
“I’m an adult, I can get drunk if I damn well please.”
I sat down next to him. “Aiden, this isn’t like you. What’s wrong?”
“How do you know if it’s like me or not? Maybe this is what I do. You don’t know me Holly; you only think that you do.”
“Okay,” I said, still trying to stay calm and avoid a drunken confrontation. “I should have said that I’ve never seen you like this. Did something happen?”
“Maybe it’s not about what happened, but what didn’t happen. We’re two months into our “contract” and nothing is happening. I’ve had my fertility checked, Holly. My swimmers are fine. Maybe I should have had yours checked too. That was a failure on my part.” He sat forward and with a shaky hand he poured what was left in the bourbon bottle into his glass. Picking it up and sloshing some of it over the sides on the way, he brought it to his mouth and drank until it was empty.
“So you’re ready to give up?” I asked him. “You’re ready to call it quits because I’m not pregnant fast enough for you?”
“I was ready to explore a back-up plan. You’re the one who walked out. You did what all women do, you left.” He could barely hold his eyelids open and I wondered how long he’d been sitting there like that. I felt angry at him and sorry for him at the same time. I decided we weren’t getting anywhere this way however. I wasn’t going to win an argument with a drunk. I started to stand up when I felt his hand on my wris
t.
“Leaving again?” he said, angrily.
“Let go of me, Aiden. I’m trying to forgive your behavior because you’re roaring drunk, but you don’t want to take this any further.”
“Why, Holly? What are you going to do? Walk out? Haven’t you already done that?”
“I just needed some time alone, to think, Aiden. I came back to talk, but I can’t talk to you like this. Let go of me.”
He did and I stood up. I looked at him and hardly recognized the man that I saw. I felt another surge of pain in my chest for him, but at the same time I was disgusted. It was a familiar feeling, the same one I got when I looked at my own, drunken mother. I could tell that he was hurting, but I needed him to talk to me before I could help.
“Aiden, do you want to tell me what’s wrong? I understand you’re upset with me, but surely that’s not all there is to this?”
He had his head down on his chest and I couldn’t see his face. His breathing seemed heavier and I wondered if he’d fallen asleep. “Aiden?” I said, again.
He didn’t answer and then suddenly I heard a big snort. He had passed out. I stood watching him sleep for a few minutes knowing that I couldn’t leave my baby with this man. He was so cold sometimes that he was practically sterile and now I find out how he deals with his problems -just like my mother.
I packed the things that were mine, the ones that I’d brought with me or bought with my own money since I’d been here. I didn’t want anything he’d paid for like the pretty dresses or shoes he’d bought for me to wear out. Once my bag was packed I sat down and wrote him another note:
Aiden,
As you’ve probably already figured out, this is not going to work. I struggled with putting aside my personal feelings and everything I’d always believed about being a parent. I think I did a pretty good job, and in spite of any emotions left inside of me, I was still willing to uphold the contract. Yet all along, you had some kind of silent timeline that you hadn’t let me in on. When I heard you interviewing a new surrogate on the phone, it made me physically ill. I needed to think, I needed some time and space alone to figure all of this out. I thought I had, and then I get here to find you drunk and obnoxious, unwilling to talk to me about what is bothering you. I don’t want to bring a child into the world that will have a father who looks at the world as one giant business deal. A child who is either an inconvenience or a tax write off for a father who handles his troubles by looking at them through the bottom of an empty bottle. I wish you the best of luck in your future endeavors Aiden, and thank you for everything you’ve given me thus far.
Holly.
I looked at him one more time before I left. I needed to hold that sight of him drunk and disheveled in the forefront of my mind to know that I was doing the right thing for me, and the baby. Why did the right thing always have to hurt so much?
~
Chapter Fourteen
~
I went back to the hotel I’d stayed at before that first night. I wasn’t sure what I would do, or where I would go, but I knew when I’d heard Aiden on the phone talking to that other woman and telling her what a failure I had been, that I couldn’t be there with him any longer. Some might say it was partially my own fault for not telling him right away that I was pregnant. That may be true, but the coldness he had shown, over and over was a fact. My own heart was at stake as well as the welfare of an innocent child. I had to be strong and do what I needed to do to protect us both. I wasn’t going to hand my child over to someone who drank away their problems. I’d lived with that for far too long and it would be horrible of me to knowingly subject my child to the same kind of life. I didn’t think that Aiden was an alcoholic, but if he continued to turn to alcohol to solve his problems then it was a strong possibility for the future.
Aiden hadn’t called me the first time I left, but he did call this time, after he sobered up and realized that I was gone. He called and text over and over again. I was afraid at first that the doctor had told him about the pregnancy, but as I listened to the messages, it was apparent that he didn’t know.
First Voicemail: Holly! This is ridiculous. I had a few drinks and it’s not like we’re married and you even have a right to be upset. Call me back.
Second Voicemail: Holly, you’re right. I should have just talked to you. I shouldn’t have gotten drunk. I was upset and I started drinking and it got out of hand. I’m sorry. Come home, or at least call me.
Third voicemail: Damn it, Holly! This is absurd. If you’re this immature than maybe I don’t want to do business with you after all. Call me back!
They were all pretty much variations of the same view, like he was cycling from angry to remorseful and back again. It was another thing that reminded me of my mother. It was what she did after going on a bender and making a fool out of herself. She would throw blame at me and then she would apologize and when it was all over, my head would be so messed up that I wouldn’t know for sure who really had been at fault.
The messages went on for days and they got more desperate and angrier with each day that passed. It was beginning to look like I’d have to change my number to get him to leave me alone. I couldn’t make myself pick up the phone and talk to him, and it got even worse or at least more embarrassing when I got a call from first Rose and then Myra. He was calling the café, telling them that he knew I would have told them where I was going, and begging them to tell him, or at least to tell me to call him. Rose said that he would start out as sweet, sad and charming and by the end of the conversation, he would become angry and somewhat rude. I apologized profusely which of course they both told me was unnecessary. I wanted to tell him to stop calling them, but I was still afraid to call him back. I knew that I didn’t have the strength. He would be remorseful and charming and before I knew it I would be right back in the same situation. I had to make a clean break. Myra told me that he’d actually come in one day and got a little confrontational. But like Rose, she told me they were “handling it” and for me not to apologize or worry. They were really good friends.
The day after I’d talked to Myra, I got a call from a nurse at my mother’s facility.
“Miss Valentine, this is Nurse Jacobs. I’m sorry to bother you…”
“It’s fine, Is my mother okay?” I asked. I was worried that she’d gotten sick, but more worried that she had managed to get drunk.
“No, she’s fine. I didn’t mean to worry you. It’s just that a gentleman showed up this afternoon.” My mind went straight to Aiden. Dear God, how did he find out about Mom and how did he know where she was? I realized then that the nurse was still talking. She said, “He was very polite, but he was asking for confidential information. He wanted your contact number and/or your address. When I told him he couldn’t have that, he wanted to talk to your mother. I explained to him that she couldn’t have visitors yet, so he left, but I thought I should let you know.”
“I appreciate that, thank you for keeping our confidentiality. Did he get confrontational with you at all?”
“Oh no, like I said, he was polite and respectful, just disappointed that I wouldn’t tell him anything.”
“I’m really sorry,” I said. I could feel my face flush red. I hoped they wouldn’t hold my “relationship” issues against my mother.
“It’s no problem, Miss Valentine, it happens more often than you think.” I was at least glad to hear that. I thanked her again and hung up. That was when I knew I had to go talk to Aiden. He had to leave the people I cared about alone. I gathered every ounce of courage within me and I took a cab to the penthouse. When I got there, his doorman acted shocked to see me. Aiden must have said something to him about what to do if I showed up. He told me that Mr. Scott was at the office but I could wait in the lobby and he would call him. I politely declined, knowing full well that he called him as soon as I left. I took another cab downtown to Scotto Enterprises. I’d never been there before and the building itself was slightly overwhelming. It had to be over thirty sto
ries high and it was all one company. I couldn’t wrap my head around running a business of this size. I definitely got a renewed respect for what he did every day. I got there and pulled the heavy glass door to the lobby open just in time to nearly run head on into Aiden rushing out.
An Heir At Any Price: The Billionaire's Obsession - Contemporary Romance Page 11