As my dinner heated, I psyched myself up about my feelings for her. I’d spend the weekend figuring out how to tell her how I really felt and see if I couldn’t persuade her to give this thing, or the thing we had a few weeks ago, a chance. The idea scared the shit out of me and at the same time, a sense of serenity came over me. Like this was the right choice.
I put my plate in the dishwasher and headed to the living room, thinking I’d make plans for the shelves Tessa thought I should have in the living area to help store Maisie’s growing stash of toys. I passed the phone sitting on a little side table and noticed the message light beeping.
I hadn’t had a landline phone until Tessa suggested it. She indicated that it was a safety issue if I didn’t have cell phone power in an emergency. She also said Maisie was old enough to call for help if needed, but she’d need to know where a phone was, which could be a problem if it was hidden in my coat. I remembered saying if I had the phone I could call, but she argued that the emergency could be with me. So I got a landline and until this moment, hadn’t ever noticed messages. I never even gave out the number.
Even so, I poked the message button.
“Hello, Mrs. Hyatt, this is Dr Layman’s office. She asked that I call to reschedule your sonogram to the week after next instead of this coming week.” She gave a date and time.
I stilled. Sonogram? Was Tessa sick?
“She said not to worry, a week later will be fine. Just keep taking the prenatal vitamins and take care of yourself. If you have questions or concerns, you can call us.”
I staggered back for a moment. Then deciding I hadn’t heard right; I replayed the message. Reschedule sonogram. Take prenatal vitamins. Jesus … Tessa was pregnant.
I swallowed as the news filtered through, turning from shock to anger. She was pregnant and hadn’t told me. What the fuck?
I began to pace, feeling like my world was whirling away. I’d just spent an hour in my head telling myself I could love her. That I could trust her. I could build something with her. As it turned out, I was wrong. Like I was always wrong.
From there my mind spiraled downward. Had she lied about the pill? Was it her goal to get pregnant? Was she planning to keep this pregnancy a secret and take my child, as Veronica was trying to do?
I grabbed the phone and dialed her number. She picked up on the third ring.
“You’re calling from the landline. Is everything all right?” she said.
“You tell me,” I growled into the phone.
There was a pause. “What’s going on?”
“There’s a message here from Dr. Layman’s office.”
Her breath hitched. I knew that sound. It was the sound someone made when they realized they’d been busted.
“Were you going to tell me you were pregnant?”
“Yes. Dylan … I can explain …”
“Really? There is a good explanation for why you’d keep this from me? Or were you going to take my child from me?”
“No, I’d never—”
“Funny, I don’t believe you. Is that what this was all about? You wanted to trick me?”
“Dylan, it was your idea to get married, not mine.”
“You wanted me to fuck you. I did fuck you.” I’d thought she was so sweet and innocent. Had I missed the signs that she was manipulative like Veronica?
“You used a condom the night I told you I wanted you.”
“And the honeymoon?”
“You started that.”
Fuck, she was right, but maybe I’d just let my dick lead me where she wanted him to go.
“I was going to tell you, but I wanted to be sure with the sonogram—”
“Bullshit. If you had a test, you knew. Why would you keep that from me? I trusted you—” I hated how vulnerable and desperate those last words sounded.
“You said you didn’t want to love or have more kids.”
“So you were going to keep this from me? Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”
“I wasn’t going to hide it.”
All this time, I’d thought her attitude towards me had to do with how I’d treated her. But maybe she got what she wanted and was now done with me. “Maybe you were acting so cold and distant so I wouldn’t notice. Or maybe you were going to bail on me and have the child on your own, never telling me. You probably don’t think I deserve to know.”
“Dylan, no.”
I could hear in her voice that she was crying, but I fought to not be swayed. I’d been swayed by tears before.
“What did you want, Tessa?”
She was quiet for a moment. “In an ideal world, you’d love me like I love you and, we––you, me, Maisie and this baby––would be a family. But I knew that wouldn’t ever happen, and I just needed time to wrap my head around the reality.”
“You don’t love me,” I scoffed. Did she really think I’d buy that?
“I do, Dylan. I’ve loved you for so long.”
“I don’t believe you. If you loved me, you wouldn’t have kept this from me.”
“I’ll come home and we can talk—”
“No. I’m done. You stay at your parents. But don’t think that this means I won’t fight for my unborn child. You know me well enough to know that nothing will keep me from my child.” Not wanting to hear more excuses or lies, I hung up.
“Fuck!” I yelled. How had my world so quickly gone to shit?
23
Tessa
Thank God I was in my childhood bedroom when Dylan called. I’d hate to have that conversation within earshot of my parents. Or for them to see me so upset.
My first thought when I realized Dylan was calling was that maybe he missed me. I noted the number on my caller ID was from the landline, so then I figured he just had a question. Maybe there was a message and he wanted to know how to get it. In the year since I’d suggested the phone, he’d never checked messages.
As it turned out, he did know how to get messages, and he’d gotten one I never expected him to hear. Why had the doctor’s office called that number and not mine? I’d given the landline number as a backup.
I sank to my bed the moment I realized he knew my secret. He sounded so angry. Of course he would be. He should be. I’d kept something from him, and considering everything he was going through with Veronica, I couldn’t blame him for feeling betrayed and fearful about losing his child.
At least he wanted the baby, I tried to console myself, even as my heart was breaking at his harsh “I’m done.” I wasn’t sure what that meant. Were we going to continue the charade, or was he going to kick me out and file for divorce? Either way, any chance with him I’d had was gone, although who was I kidding? I’d never had a chance. He’d said so on more than one occasion.
I had to hope that when he calmed down, we’d be able to negotiate something that allowed us both time with the baby. I wasn’t like Veronica. I wouldn’t ever try to keep him away. He didn’t believe that now, which hurt. I’d have liked to think that he knew me well enough to know I wasn’t the sort of person to use a child or to want to hurt him. Then again, considering how strained things were between us, and now knowing what I’d kept from him, it was hard not to think he’d believe the worst.
“Tessa?” My mother knocked on my door. “Are you all right?”
I sniffed, and reined in my crying. “Yes, Mom.”
“Dinner will be ready in ten minutes.”
“I’ll be down.” I stood and went to my mirror. My eyes were red and puffy. As soon as I heard my mother go downstairs, I’d go to the bathroom and see about salvaging my face. I wasn’t ready to tell them about me and Dylan or the baby.
I picked up my phone and accidentally hit the photo app. The picture of Maisie’s passport popped open. I’d forgotten about it, but knew I needed to tell Dylan, so I started to dial his number. Two digits in, I decided he wouldn’t pick up. It was clear he didn’t want to talk to me.
Instead, I called his lawyer, and told him about the passport.
“If she took Maisie out of the country, Dylan wouldn’t see her,” I argued.
“She’s a model and her husband is a businessman. It makes sense they’d want that, because they travel a lot. I’m not saying she’ll win; I’m just saying there’s no wrongdoing there.”
“What if she plans to move there? They have a French nanny. A French nanny that I saw with Mr. Baskin’s hand up her skirt.”
“Oh. Now that is something that could be useful.”
I was glad he had something he could help Dylan with, even though I felt like the passport was more significant than the fact that Mr. Baskin cheated on his wife. When I got off the phone, I called the PI Dylan had hired and recounted my story again.
“I know it may not be anything, but it seems like something Dylan would want you to check into,” I’d said when I finished.
“You’re right,” he said. “Why isn’t Mr. Hyatt telling me this?”
“I dropped Maisie off at Veronica’s and saw it tonight. He wasn’t home, so I called you directly. I called his lawyer too.”
Thankfully, he accepted my excuse. Hopefully they’d find something by the court hearing the week following Maisie’s visit with her mom.
I washed my face, although I was certain my mother would still be able to tell I was upset. I’d just have to come up with some excuse like Maisie cried when I left her. I was lying again, and because I was, I realized that Dylan had no reason to see me as an honest person. I’d been willing to lie about my marriage to my friends and family. It wasn’t that far of a leap to think I’d lie about a baby.
When I got downstairs, my father frowned and looked at my mother when he saw me, a good sign that I looked like hell.
“Sit down and eat honey, then tell us what’s wrong,” my mother said, putting a platter of spaghetti on the table.
I sat and scooped food onto my plate. I wasn’t hungry, but I needed to eat because my baby needed it.
“Did Dylan hurt you?” my dad’s gruff voice asked. My dad looked like the typical bulldog-faced, barrel-chested cop, but he was a cream puff on the inside.
I pushed my food around my plate, trying to figure out what to say.
“Did he hurt you?” my mother put her hand over mine.
Yes. “There’s been a lot of tension with the custody case.”
“What’d he do?” my father’s eyes narrowed into piercing hard dots.
“He didn’t hurt me … he’s not abusive,” I clarified. “He’s scared of losing his daughter.”
“I worried you were too young—”
“And married too fast,” my father added to my mother’s statement.
“My age doesn’t matter. What matters is that he’s a man terrified he’s going to lose his daughter. Surely you can understand that.”
My mother handed a basket of garlic bread to me. “Of course. I can’t imagine what he’s going through.”
“That doesn’t give him the right to—”
“He doesn’t hurt me.” I’m done. His words came back to me. If I wasn’t able to get through to him, I could be the one in court against him. As it was, he had a court date coming up, and I didn’t know if I should be there. “I’d rather just eat now, if that’s okay.”
“If you need me to put some sense into him, I will,” my father said.
“He doesn’t need sense,” I said. He needed to believe in love and open himself to it.
Fortunately, my parents respected my wishes. Instead of me divulging all the mistakes I’d made or that they were going to be grandparents, I listened as they told me the latest gossip in the neighborhood.
“Mr. Spinelli is thinking of selling the bagel shop,” my mother said.
“He must be nearly a hundred,” I said, remembering getting a bagel every Saturday morning with my parents.
“Ninety-six,” my mother said.
“It will be a sad day when there are no more Spinelli bagels.” My father shook his head. “We should all go tomorrow.”
I smiled, and my mother brightened. “Yes. Let’s. It will be like old times.”
I loved my parents and being home, and yet it made me sad too. Sad that I wouldn’t have what they did. I was all for women’s rights, equal pay, and feminism, but I’d have been completely content to be Dylan’s wife and a mother, as well as a teacher, just like my mother.
I’d been fighting with myself for weeks now. My heart wanted what my head knew I could never have, and yet my heart still yearned. It was time to toughen up, and let go of the dream of a family, at least with Dylan.
I didn’t know what was going to happen with our fake marriage. Maybe tomorrow, I’d have the guts to call Dylan to ask him if “I’m done” meant I shouldn’t come at all. But for now, I was going to let all that go and feel the warmth and love that my parents surrounded me with.
24
Dylan
That evening, feeling completely untethered, I called Veronica and asked if I could speak to Maisie. Normally I waited for them to call, but I needed to hear her voice. To listen to someone truly pure and that loved me unconditionally.
“Hi Daddy,” her little voice came over the phone. She was such a wonderful child. I wondered how she’d feel about a little brother or sister.
“Hi lazy Maisie. You having fun?”
“Yep. Mommy took me out for pizza.”
“Where’s Leo?”
“He had to work. Mommy took me to a candy store too. Did you know there’s like a million candies?”
I closed my eyes, hoping Veronica was putting something healthy into her. “That’s a lot of candies. Did you eat them all?”
“No, Daddy.” Maisie laughed, the sound of it lifting my spirits a little.
She and I chatted a bit, and then I was back to the cold empty house and the mess of my life. What the hell was I going to do about Tessa? How was it possible that I’d been completely duped again? And now she was pregnant. Jesus, I was going to bring another child in the world that wouldn’t have a stable home life. How was it that I was perpetually creating what I was trying to avoid—a dysfunctional family? Perhaps it was time to consider a vasectomy. And possibly monkhood.
Instead of working on the house over the weekend, I visited each of the gyms and found work to do there to avoid home and my messed-up life. At home, I was miserable without Maisie and yes, even Tessa, but then I’d remind myself of her deception. I wondered if she was planning to come home Sunday and what I’d do if she did.
I meant it when I said I was done, and yet I couldn’t be done. There was a baby to think about. I could move Tessa’s former housemates, Allison and Corrine, into another of my real estate properties and then let Tessa have the house next door. I don’t know how I’d be able to see her and not feel the pain of her betrayal, and yet, it was ideal for the baby to have us both nearby. And Maisie too, who I wanted to know her little brother or sister.
On Sunday afternoon, I received a text from Tessa saying she planned to stay longer with her parents. It was a relief and yet, unsettling too. I didn’t want to deal with our situation, and yet putting it off only made it hang over me.
I messaged back, “Fine.” It would give me time to think more on how to deal with things.
On Monday, I called my lawyer to let him know what was going on.
“It’s not a good time to file divorce papers,” he said. “Not during a custody case.”
“I don’t know if we can pull off happy family.” I sat on the couch with my head back, like the weight of everything made it too heavy for my shoulders.
“You did fine before.”
“We were a happy family before.” Okay, so maybe not a legitimate happy family, but for a time we seemed to have what I hadn’t with my own family.
“The point is, the judge won’t like it. She won’t care that Leo is banging the nan
ny, probably, but she’ll think it is difficult for Maisie to be in the midst of a divorce.”
“Leo is banging the nanny?” Had my PI figured that out and passed it on? That was the one source of good news I’d had in a long time.
“Yeah. I’m looking into it more.” He sounded distracted as if someone was taking his attention while he was on the phone with me.
“Okay, so no divorce, but she’s pregnant, and I need to ensure that my rights are protected.”
There was a pause. “You know Dylan, for a guy who seems to have it all together, you don’t have it together. You want to divorce your wife while she’s pregnant? Jesus, if your ex got wind of that—”
“Well she won’t, right? Client-attorney privilege.” I did sound like a complete douche, but she was the one who tried to keep the pregnancy from me.
“Now isn’t the time for any of this. If you want Maisie, suck it up and make it work until this is done.”
I knew he was right. There wasn’t anything I wouldn’t do for Maisie, so if I had to stay married to Tessa, I would. “Tessa is with her parents right now. I don’t know if she’ll be back for the court hearing coming next week.”
“I’ll take care of it. In the meantime, stay the course.”
The following Sunday, I felt like I could finally breathe again when Maisie returned home.
“Where’s Tessa?” she asked when I closed the door behind Veronica and Leo as they headed home.
“She’s visiting her mom and dad.”
“Still? She’s been there longer than me.”
I didn’t know how to explain Tessa being gone. We’d had a few texts, mostly her telling me she planned to stay at her parents longer. On Friday, she sent me the sonogram appointment information. But other than that, we hadn’t talked, and it was fucking killing me. How was it that I missed her as much as I missed Maisie? She’d hurt me, and yet somehow all I could remember was her sweet smile, generous heart, and the way she doted on Maisie. It was a lie, I told myself. But I didn’t want to believe it. In fact, one night, Tessa came to me in my dream. She started to suck my dick, which I didn’t want her to do because even in my dream I was pissed.
So Wrong (Heart 0f Hope Book 3) Page 16