Maisie’s weeklong visit wasn’t for two weeks, but she did have a weekend trip this week while Leo was gone. Veronica and her driver picked Maisie up on Friday morning, giving me a rare day to myself. I’d made plans with Allison and Corrine to go out that night, and I planned a lunch with Mrs. Anderson on Saturday, all in an attempt to avoid having to spend time alone with Dylan.
Because I was fatigued a lot lately and noticed that I hadn’t had my period, I decided to take advantage of my free time to see the doctor. I’d never been on the pill before, but I noted that most of what I was feeling—depressed, upset stomach, breast tenderness—was listed as possible side effects. What concerned me was that I hadn’t had a period.
“Any chance you’re pregnant?” Dr. Layman asked as I sat on the exam table.
I quirked a brow. “Not if the birth control works.” God. If I was pregnant, I don’t know what Dylan would do.
She looked at my information on the EMR system. “But you’ve been having sex.”
“I have, but not in a while.”
“We should do a pregnancy test.”
What? “I’m on the pill to not get pregnant. Isn’t the effectiveness nearly a hundred percent?”
“Yes. But if you missed one—”
“I haven’t.”
“Or had sex before its full effectiveness, you could be pregnant. It’s best to get the most likely and easiest to test reason out of the way.” She studied me. “I take it a pregnancy wouldn’t be a good thing.”
“No. Not at this time.” Or any time where Dylan was concerned.
“Well, let’s test, and if it’s not that we’ll explore other options.”
I nodded, but I had a sickening feeling what the results would be. She handed me a pregnancy test stick and sent me to the bathroom.
Ten minutes later, she entered the exam room, and I could tell by the look on her face that my life was about to get even more complicated.
My eyes filled with tears.
She looked at me with sympathy. “There are options.”
I looked at her in surprise. “I’m going to have it.” There was no question of that. My tears weren’t over what I’d do. They were over all the potential me and this baby could have with Dylan, but wouldn’t because he was adamant that he didn’t want me or a baby.
“The father will be upset?” she asked.
“I don’t know actually, but he … well …” I didn’t know how to explain the complicated relationship with Dylan.
“Stop taking the pills—”
A worry grew. “Will they have hurt the baby?”
“Chances are, no. From now on, you’ll take prenatal vitamins. You can have normal activity, although avoid anything too strenuous. Sex is fine.”
I scoffed. Like that was going to happen. “How far along am I?”
“Based on when you reported your last period, it appears you’re six or seven weeks. We’ll schedule a sonogram to get a better sense.”
I was in a daze when I left the doctor’s office. I knew I needed to tell Dylan, but didn’t know how. A part of me was angry that he’d probably not be happy. This child was his and deserved to have all the love Maisie did, even if I didn’t. As I thought that, a new concern arose; what if he fought for sole custody of this baby? I knew he was a good father, and I wouldn’t ever keep the baby from him. But watching him deal with Veronica, I learned what he was willing to do to get his way. He’d hired a PI to get dirt on his ex. I had no dirt in my past, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t use things in my life against me. I didn’t have money or a job. I hadn’t finished my graduate program yet. He could even say I seduced him or tricked him.
When I parked the car in the driveway, I put my head back on the headrest and closed my eyes, feeling the ramifications of how much more complicated my life was now. All because I loved my neighbor and his daughter. I was starting to see why Dylan was so love-phobic. Love hurt.
I carried on that weekend, seeing my friends, having seltzer water that I led my friends to believe was spiked with vodka so they wouldn’t guess at my condition. The next day I had lunch with Mrs. Anderson, who encouraged me to finish school and not wait because of the custody suit.
“It’s wonderful how supportive you are of your husband, but I’ve taught a long time and I’ve seen many children go through that. Sometimes it takes years, and you don’t want to put off your degree that long,” she’d said.
Years? She was right. I couldn’t wait years. At the same time, if Dylan and I didn’t work out, I’d need a job. I could work as a teacher with my bachelors. I’d just need to take the test to get my certificate. I wouldn’t get paid as much as with my masters, but maybe that would have to wait.
I dreaded Saturday night when I had no plans, but Dylan texted me to say that he had to go to one of his out-of-town gyms to deal with something and wouldn’t be home until late. I wondered if he was avoiding me like I was him.
Maisie came home Sunday afternoon, and I still hadn’t told Dylan. With her home, I didn’t feel like I could say anything, because I didn’t want her to witness a bad scene if Dylan didn’t take it well. I’d even started talking myself into believing that the test was wrong. Until I had the sonogram, I wouldn’t know for sure, so I could wait. The test was scheduled the week Maisie would be at her mother’s. That wasn’t too long to wait.
As it turned out, the time came quickly. On Friday as I helped Maisie pack for the weeklong visit to stay with her mom, I worried about how I’d survive the weekend, much less the following week, with things strained between me and Dylan, and the stress of keeping my secret until I had the sonogram. I decided a visit to my parents for the weekend was the perfect solution.
I called Dylan, letting him know and suggesting that I could drive Maisie to her mother’s since I was going that direction. He agreed, and I wondered if maybe he was relieved that I wouldn’t be underfoot.
I called Veronica to let her know I could bring Maisie to Manhattan, saving her the trip.
“Oh, that’s perfect. I have some errands to run. Thank you, Tessa.”
By noon, Maisie and I were on the road, listening to her silly songs CD and singing at the top of our lungs. It made me think how Dylan would play his guitar and the two of them would sing everything from old folk tunes to current day hits while Maisie took her bath. I’d miss this when my marriage to Dylan ended. Even with my own child on the way, I loved Maisie, and would feel the loss of her as much as I would of my own child.
We arrived at Veronica and Leo’s Manhattan building, but Veronica wasn’t there.
“I’m so sorry, Tessa,” she said when I called to let her know we arrived. “I’m stuck at my hairdresser’s and won’t be there for twenty minutes or so. I’ll call the doorman to let you in. Leo should be home soon as well. Do you mind?”
“Not at all.” As crazy as my life had become, hanging with Maisie was what it made it all bearable.
Ten minutes later, the doorman let us into their apartment. Like the hotel Dylan had taken me to on our honeymoon, the apartment was lush and large. It was decorated in mostly white, which didn’t seem conducive to raising a child. In looking around, there were no signs a child was ever there.
“Do you have some toys here, Maisie?” I asked, thinking maybe we needed to send some of the ones she had from her room at home.
“Yep. They’re in my room. Mommy and Papa Leo don’t like a mess in the house.”
Hmm. They were those types.
I followed her to her bedroom, which was probably Maisie’s dream come true. It had a bed with a canopy, a tent that looked like a castle, and lots of princesses and fairies that Maisie liked.
“Wow, this is quite a room,” I said.
“Mommy said I could do it anyway I wanted.”
“It looks great.” I put her bag on the bed.
“I’m hungry and thirsty.”
I wasn’t sure if I should be making myself at home in Veronica and Leo’s apartment, but it was Maisi
e’s home too, and I was there taking care of her, so I followed her to the kitchen.
“What do you want?” I asked as I entered the large kitchen with granite counters and restaurant grade appliances.
“Cookies and milk.”
I quirked a brow. “Does your dad know you eat that here?”
“Mommy says what daddy doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”
Hmm. Not the best message, and yet, I’d snuck her a few sweets in the past.
Maisie climbed up onto a stool in front of the breakfast bar as I hunted for cookies and a glass for milk. I found a packet of two small gourmet-looking chocolate chip cookies, and poured her a juice glass filled with milk, setting them in front of her.
On the wall next to the breakfast bar, there was a little phone station, above which was a bulletin board. On it, a drawing Maisie had made was pinned. I was glad to see some evidence of Maisie in the home.
Below it was a pile of envelopes and other papers. I hadn’t meant to snoop, but I noticed Maisie’s birth certificate underneath what looked like a passport.
I picked up the passport and opened it to Maisie’s sweet face. “What’s this?”
“That’s the picture my mommy took me to get,” Maisie said with a mouth full of cookie.
I frowned, thinking this didn’t seem right, and yet Veronica was Maisie’s mother. She had every right to have a birth certificate and passport. “Are you going somewhere?”
“Mmm, I don’t know. Papa Leo goes away a lot, and mommy doesn’t like to be left by herself. She says they should move to Paris so she doesn’t have to miss him. Where’s Paris?”
“That’s in France.” Was Veronica having second thoughts, or was this passport an indication she wanted to take Maisie to Paris? Dylan would never allow that, so it didn’t make sense why she’d have this. She had to know he’d nix the idea. Unless she had sole custody, then she could do what she wanted and Dylan wouldn’t have any say.
“Where’s that?” Maisie asked.
“It’s another country across the ocean.” I pulled out my phone and snapped a picture of the passport and then pulled up a picture of France to show Maisie. “They speak French there.”
“Marie speaks French.”
“Who is Marie?” And why hadn’t I heard of her?
“She takes care of me sometimes when Mommy and Papa Leo go out. Like you do.”
My heart thunked in my chest at the reminder of who and what I was.
I heard a door open, and then voices.
“I’ll see if that’s your mom,” I said to Maisie. I peeked out of the kitchen towards the front door. Leo, along with a young woman, entered the apartment.
I couldn’t understand what they were saying as it appeared to be in French, but it wasn’t hard to miss the fact that Leo and the woman were more than friendly as his hand was on her ass and she was grinding her body against his.
He pinned her against the wall and made a “shh” gesture with his finger over his lips. “Veronica? You home?” he called out.
When he didn’t receive an answer, he lifted the woman’s skirt.
Oh, hell. I couldn’t let Maisie see this. I went back into the kitchen, opened and then slammed a cabinet shut so he’d hear.
“What’s that for,” Maisie asked.
I didn’t have a good reason I could tell her. I couldn’t say it was to make sure Leo knew we were here so he’d take his hand out of the woman’s panties.
A few seconds later, Leo walked into the kitchen. “What are you doing here?” I wondered if he remembered who I was.
“I brought Maisie here. Veronica was running late, so I was waiting. I hope it’s okay I got her a couple of cookies and milk.”
Papa Leo looked at me and then Maisie. He was probably wondering what we saw or heard. I kept a straight face.
“Hello, Maisie.”
“Hi Papa Leo.”
The woman came into the kitchen. “Ah mademoiselle Maisie. Bonjour my petite.”
“Bon-jer, Marie.”
Huh. Turns out Leo was banging the nanny. I wanted to snicker; except I was a nanny that had been banged by my boss. Of course, my boss wasn’t married. Well he was now, but that was to me.
“Did Veronica say when she’d be back?” Leo asked me.
“About twenty minutes …” I looked at my watch, “Fifteen minutes ago.”
He nodded. “Listen, would you mind staying with Maisie until she arrives? I have some work I need to take care of with Marie.”
I couldn’t help but gape. Was he going to fuck his nanny while Maisie and I were here?
“We’re working on extending her work visa,” he said.
“Sure. I’ll wait.” My parents weren’t expecting me until dinner time anyway. I watched as Leo escorted Marie out of the kitchen.
“She seems nice,” I said as I picked up Maisie’s empty plate and milk glass to wash.
“She’s okay. I like you better. You make forts and don’t make me speak French.”
By the time I had Maisie’s milk mustache and crumbs cleaned up, Veronica arrived home. I wondered if I should say something to her about Leo and the nanny.
Should I tell Dylan too? That certainly might be dirt he’d want to use. My conscience told me it was bad to use this type of information against Veronica. It would hurt enough to find out her husband was cheating, but to have it used against her in her custody suit seemed heartless. Was I betraying Dylan by thinking that?
Deciding I didn’t need to do anything at that moment, I gave Maisie a hug and kiss and told her I’d see her next weekend. Then I headed to Brooklyn, hoping I’d get respite and peace by spending time with my parents. The only stress I had was in trying to decide if I should tell them about the baby now.
22
Dylan
I walked into a quiet house on Friday, knowing Maisie and Tessa were gone. It wasn’t the first time I’d come home with no one to greet me, but for some reason, the emptiness stole my breath. It was like walking into a space devoid of life.
I hated what had happened between Tessa and me. Wasn’t that the reason I’d tried to resist her in the first place? Because I didn’t want to ruin our friendship? But I couldn’t blame her for where we were now. That was on me. My misery and loneliness were all because I pushed her away. I’d asked her to play the role of a loving wife, which she did perfectly. Even now, when it was clear a chasm was between us, she cared for Maisie, played a dutiful wife, and even managed to continue to sleep in my bed when I was sure she’d rather be anywhere else.
I could see it was taking a toll on her, which made me hate myself even more. She looked so tired and sad all the damn time.
The last year of my marriage with Veronica, there was the same cool distance, but I’d grown used to it, and eventually when she left it was a relief not to have to pretend anymore. But with Tessa, the further she felt from me, the more I wanted to do something to change it. I was scared shitless to let her into my heart, and yet based on how I was feeling completely gutted in my own home, it seemed obvious that she was already there. Fuck, she’d probably always been there.
The truth was, I wanted the reality of marriage and a family, not the sham. I wanted her to look at me as she had in the beginning; like I was her fucking hero. I wanted her to find her feminine sexual self using my body. I wanted to pay for her school, and whatever dream she had.
But I was a coward. I’d given everything I had to Veronica and she tossed it aside like an old tattered coat. Yes, we were young when we met as college sophomores, but lack of life experience didn’t mean the emotions we felt were any less intense. I’d loved her, and together we’d plotted out a life where I’d start a gym business and she’d work with me.
When Maisie was born, it had been her idea to stay home, which in hindsight, I should have known wouldn’t have worked. She was a social woman, liking attention and activity. By the time Maisie was a year old, it was clear she was unhappy, so when she said she wanted to spend time with f
riends in New York City, I didn’t balk. I wanted her to be happy.
Her trips became more regular, and I suspected that she wasn’t faithful, but I’d finally built a family my mother hadn’t been able to, and I wasn’t going to let it go. When she said she’d been hired to model, I thought that would at least stop the weekend parties and affairs, but when it turned out she was good at it, she spent increasing amounts of time away, and resented me and Maisie more and more when she’d come home. So when she called on a night she was supposed to be home to say she wasn’t coming home, ever, I didn’t beg her to return. When she asked that I take over full care of Maisie, I happily, and with relief, agreed.
I learned a lot from Veronica. The most important lesson was that I couldn’t put my faith in love. My mother chose her men over me. Veronica chose her dream over me. Now, all my love went to Maisie. I wouldn’t let her be hurt by life if I could help it.
I knew Tessa, despite her resentment of me, loved Maisie and would do anything for her too. I’d trusted her with Maisie’s care, and she’d never given me cause to question her commitment to my daughter. Even as I railed against her, telling her Maisie was mine and she had no rights, she’d stuck with me in this crazy scheme. She was a woman who gave of herself and stuck by her word. She was loving, honest, smart, sweet, and faithful. I didn’t deserve her, but I wanted her. I wanted her so badly my chest hurt.
What would happen if I said all this to her? If I told her I was willing to risk my heart for her? I don’t think she’d mean to hurt me, but it wouldn’t be a surprise if she told me to take a flying leap. For that reason alone, I shouldn’t say anything. It was too late to change things with her.
And yet, these feelings nagged at me. She might tell me to fuck off, but then again, she was a forgiving and loving person. Maybe she’d give me a chance.
I poured myself a drink and took out the covered dish of fettuccine Tessa had left for me for dinner. See, she couldn’t completely hate me if she made sure I had dinner.
So Wrong (Heart 0f Hope Book 3) Page 15