by Nikki Ash
“Uh…yeah, you sure you’re okay? I can stay. Bria is asleep, but—”
“No. I’m okay. Promise. A hot bath and bed is what I need.” With uncertainty in her eyes, she nods and heads home. After a hot shower, I climb into bed and reach inside my nightstand for a small box. I hold it to my chest before removing the top. The day my mother said to grab anything of value because I wouldn’t be returning, I only took two things: the clothes on my back and an old picture of Jake and me. It was taken at his graduation party and the night he first kissed me. We were smiling, his arm wrapped around my neck, our heads knocking together. We looked happy. And we were. Jake had asked his mother to take it, and shockingly, she did. The next day, I woke up and it had been slipped under my door with a note.
Willa,
Remember this happy. You’re always the most beautiful this way.
-Jake
He didn’t say goodbye in words, but this was his farewell to me. A piece of himself I could hold on to when he was away. I brush my fingers over our faces, remembering the way his heavy arm felt so comforting around me, the smell of his cologne that stained my pillows from the nights when he would sneak into my room and we would stay up for hours talking, my obnoxious dress he tried hard to convince me looked beautiful but couldn’t mask his goofy grin at the gaudy pattern of tacky orange passion flowers and purple peonies.
Inhaling, I wipe away a tear, place that picture aside, and pick up a photo of Bria and I right after she was born. She was so tiny and frail. The birth wasn’t easy since they didn’t allow drugs inside the monastery. A smile is on my face, but there is so much sadness in it. My heart felt full of life, but so empty from his absence. He should have been there.
I pull out the stained piece of paper. His email to me. A letter I forced myself to read over and over as a reminder that I needed to leave my so-called fairytale life behind. It wasn’t real. And I needed to see the facts in front of me. He chose to abandon me. But did he? Did my mother hate me so much, she would have conjured up a scheme to allow me such pain? For my heart to bleed with betrayal? Could he truly not know about Bria and all I’ve endured?
I shake my head and shove the items back in the box and cover it, slamming my nightstand drawer. His words slice at me. “Tell me what’s wrong. Why did you disappear on me?” He wrote that letter. He had to have. If he didn’t, I’ve spent the past two years bleeding for nothing. All the wreckage around my heart caused by manipulation and lies.
I punch my fists against my pillow, hating the way I soak the cloth with my tears. “Why are the people meant to love me most, the evilest?” My heart is being torn in two directions. Betrayal and forgiveness. And now I don’t know which one is the harder pill to swallow. What does this mean for us? For Bria?
If Jake didn’t truly abandon me…
Chapter Six
No amount of coffee is going to help me today. My eyes are bloodshot and swollen. I attempt to lather on more makeup than usual, but it only makes me look more tired. I give up and kiss Bria goodbye and head off to work. I refuse to allow last night back inside my mind. I need to move on and be strong for Bria. I made a promise to myself I would never again be deceived. I have to believe that as much as my mother despises me, she wouldn’t go that far. I can’t allow myself to think what I’ve been through was for nothing.
As Sister Helen would say on the nights I felt I couldn’t go on, this too shall pass. I repeat those comforting words as I push through my workday. Mr. Anderson is unbearable. I’m not sure how much more I can take before I have to get HR involved. He’s getting closer and closer to crossing lines I may not be able to stop.
I hurry out of his office, once again fending off his wandering hands, when Tracey pops by. “Hey, you…uh, have a visitor…”
My eyebrows raise. “I do?” Jake comes around the corner holding a giant bouquet of passion flowers and peonies, his eyes searching the layout until they land on me.
“Yeah. Kind of romantic, even though he has horrible taste in flowers.”
I lock eyes with Jake as we share a smile. Purple peonies and orange passion flowers. The same gaudy pattern on the horrid dresses mother would stuff me in. “Yeah…horrible.” I can’t fight the smile that spreads as he gets closer.
“Hey,” he says softly, weighing my reaction.
“Hey,” I return his simple phrase.
We stare at one another until Tracey clears her throat. “Yeah, so I’m going to lunch. See you later.” Behind his back, she winks at me before she disappears.
“I hope you don’t mind me showing up here. I’m not stalking you…well, I guess I am…it’s just…I remember seeing the name on your badge…well, I found out where you worked beforehand ’cause I Googled you…and, I mean, it’s the only way I knew how to reach you.” He takes a deep breath and extends his arm. “These are for you. Truce?”
I accept them, relishing in the way our fingers brush against one another. “Thank you. They’re—”
“Beautiful,” he replies for me, his eyes piercing into mine. “Willa, can we talk? For real talk? No more tap dancing?” Sincerity shines from his eyes, and I take in his aged features. It’s been two years since I’ve gazed into the softness of his emerald eyes. He seems taller, more masculine. His lips are just as plump and smooth as I remember. His sandy blond hair is a bit longer, but it fits him. It’s never been about his looks for me, though. It’s his essence that always drew me in. His aura that wrapped around me and made me feel safe.
“Please…” His voice breaks me from my spell.
Sister Helen’s words replay in my head. If your path crosses with Bria’s father’s again one day, believe there is hope in you to do right. Maybe this is what she was talking about. This is my chance. A slow smile spreads across my lips, and I nod. “Sure. I’d like that.”
Jake closes his eyes, briefly bowing his head in relief. When he recaptures my gaze, a flutter of sensations trickles down my arms. “Just let me…um…just put these in water, and we can go, okay?”
“Yeah, sure, anything…” His nervousness creates another round of flutters. I hide my blushing cheeks and bend down to grab a vase from my desk. The door behind me opens, and Mr. Anderson stumbles out of his office, brushing crumbs off his belly. “Willa—who’s this?” he snaps at Jake.
“Sorry, sir. This is…my friend. I was just leaving for lunch.” Mr. Anderson eyes him with contempt, evidently not approving.
“This isn’t a social gathering. We don’t approve of non-employees loitering. Make sure to keep lunch to under an hour, and I’d like to see you in my office the minute you return.” He licks his lips, eyes Jake up and down, then walks back into his office, slamming the door.
“What was that all about?” He frowns at the closed door. “He seems…very unprofessional.”
“It’s nothing. Let’s just go.”
We’re seated at a small café close to the office. We’re both fidgety, waiting on the other to speak.
“I’m sorry…”
“About last night…”
We both sputter at once.
“I—”
“You—”
“Sorry, you go first,” he starts.
I nod, intertwining my fingers to help remain calm. “I have some questions.”
“Okay. Anything,” he rushes out.
“Did you know you were leaving for France that night? Before we…”
“I found out a couple hours before. I didn’t find out I was leaving that night until I walked out of the guest house. I would have never left like that…left you like that if I knew.”
I nod, feeling the pit of anger that’s weighed me down for years start to dissipate. “Did you know Rebecca was going with you?”
Shame forms in his eyes. His chin dips. “Yes.” The pit returns.
“Was what happened that night out of guilt? Was it for—?”
He grabs my hand. “Please stop thinking that. I know I probably left you so damn confused. Even I left not re
alizing the consequences until it was too late. But don’t think for a second what happened was out of anything but love. If anything, I was wrong for taking advantage of you.”
I pull my hand away. “How was it taking advantage?”
“You were only eighteen—”
“And in love with you. If age hadn’t been a factor, it would have happened sooner.” He stares at me, truth shining back at me. I become angry. “Or had I mistaken what we truly were? Maybe it was just me being naive and too young—”
“You want me to be truthful, then you have to be truthful too. Stop pretending what we had was just a childhood crush. I never acted on it because it was wrong. You were underage, and I wasn’t. I should have known better. If we got caught, in the eyes of the law, it would have been assault. How would that have looked for either of us?”
“Well, it doesn’t matter because no one found out. Our parents made sure of that.”
“Of what? How would they—you’re speaking in riddles. I’m too confused to understand. What did our parents do? Why did you not go to school? You couldn’t wait to leave. And there’s no way your mother would have let you gallivant around the world. What are you hiding? Did they do something to you?”
I slam my hands on the table. “No! Just stop. Stop making this about them. It’s about you and how you abandoned me when I needed you most—when I needed you to be there for me.”
“Then explain to me why? You seem so angry with me, and I don’t know why. You’re the one who was gone when I came home. The one who didn’t return any of my calls or letters. But I’m the one in the wrong?”
“Your email! You told me in your email exactly how you felt, so don’t go turning the tables on me!”
“What email?!” His voice booms, attracting attention to us.
A waiter walks up to our table. “Excuse me, but I need to ask you two to quiet down.”
Ignoring the man, I rip myself out of my seat. “How could you?”
Jake is up just as fast. “How could I what? You act so hurt by me leaving, as if I had a choice. As if you didn’t know my hands were tied. They’ve always been tied, so have yours.”
“It’s not about you leaving. It’s about you not coming back!” Tears rush down my face. When he attempts to clear them away, I slap his hand away. “About what I had to endure on my own.”
“Then tell me! Fucking tell me. I’m trying to understand, but I don’t!”
“‘I cannot claim personal responsibility. I hope you can get the help you need and make this go away.’” He jolts back as if I slapped him. “Sound familiar? That’s the letter I got. Or does your guilt keep you from remembering?”
“I—I have no idea what you’re talking about. I wrote nothing of the sort. What did you need to make go away?”
“Oh, stop! Just stop. This ignorance is tiring. I’m done. I survived. She survived, even after your pathetic, cowardly response. And I’ll continue to survive after you return to wherever you came from—”
“Survived what, Willa? Who’s she? What the hell are you talking about?”
He goes to grab at my shoulders when a stranger steps in. “Hey, man. I think you should step off. The lady said to leave her alone.”
“Fuck off,” he snaps, then returns his searing gaze to me. “Answer me, Willa.” He’s so angry. I shield my heart from his anger, haunted by a memory that suddenly feels like a nightmare. “Willa—”
“I can’t…I’ve gotta go.”
“Willa!” he yells for me, but I’m already out the café door.
Chapter Seven
I don’t go back to work, too frazzled and afraid Jake will follow me there. When I get home, Carrie is struggling to get Bria to stop crying.
“It’s fine. I think she’s teething,” I tell her, then let her go home.
I hold my little girl in my arms and cry, begging her to calm down, praying for her forgiveness. She doesn’t have her father in her life, and it may be my fault. Does he not know? Did he not send me that email?
I curse my mother. How could I have been so foolish? I didn’t even second guess that it couldn’t have been him. Anyone could have sent it. Anyone being my mother. Or his. Two desperate women blood-hungry to be on top. His words were so cold and held no meaning. As if I’d never meant anything to him. Those words hurt so much, I was too pained to see it then.
He didn’t write it.
He doesn’t even know.
Bria doesn’t let up. I soothe her gums with medicine and frozen toys. I rock her and sing to her, but she doesn’t stop. I give her a bath, but she’s too restless and flails so bad, I give up and redress her. “Please, baby girl. It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”
I fear it’s not. How could I think I could do this on my own? Helplessness weighs me down. She’s in pain, and I don’t know how to fix it. She finally cries herself to sleep, and I put her in her crib. I try to go to sleep, but I toss and turn, the guilt too much to handle. I get up and check on Bria. When I touch my palm to her tiny head, it’s on fire. “Oh my god.” Running to the bathroom, I grab a thermometer and take her temperature.
“No, no, no,” I cry, watching the number rise to an unhealthy temperature. “Shit.” I pick her up and bundle her up. I should have taken her at the first sign of distress. Her fever is in dangerous territory, and it’s all my fault. I throw my shoes on, forgetting to put a jacket on myself.
It’s dark outside, so I run to the nearest intersection to flag down a cab. “Emergency room. Please hurry!” I hold Bria close to my chest, praying. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” She’s too calm, and I start rocking her in my arms. “Please, baby girl, you’re going to be okay. Hurry!” I yell at the driver, fear creeping into my lungs and stealing my breath. He pulls up, and I jump out, running through the large sliding glass doors.
“Help! I need help!” I scream to anyone. My pulse is erratic, blocking out the whispers and gasps of onlookers seated in the waiting room. “Please, someone help me!” A nurse hurries to my side.
“What’s wrong?” She tries to pull Bria from my grip. “Honey, let me see.”
“She’s got a fever, she was crying, I thought it was teething, but now she’s so still! Please!” Panic washes over me and I become hysterical as the nurse pries Bria from my grip. I don’t want to let her go. I’m afraid if I do, she’ll disappear on me.
“Miss, we have to take her to get examined, okay?”
“Willa?”
My name echoes from a few feet away, and I whip around to find Jake dressed in a lab coat. “What’s wrong? Are you not well?” He rushes over to me, taking notice of the nurse holding a baby. His eyebrows raise, and shock fills his gaze. My heart clenches as his lips press tightly into a thin line. He blinks, refocusing, and reaches for her.
The nurse addresses me. “Willa, is that your name? Jake is our best resident on staff. He will get her the help she needs, okay?”
I dare a look back at Jake. His focus is on Bria. I nod frantically as Jake gently unfolds the blanket she’s wrapped in and glances down at the baby in his arms. His eyes flash with confusion, then understanding, and the final knife to my heart: anger.
He glances at me, furious, then goes into medical mode. “I’m taking her into triage two.”
“Jake,” I call for him, but he doesn’t turn back. He walks through the doors with our daughter.
The nurse has me fill out paperwork, then guides me back, where I find Jake and a team of nurses working on Bria. I stand behind the glass window like an outsider while my baby girl lays motionless and pale. My world spins, and I grab onto the ledge to steady myself. If anything happens to her…
My mind takes a dark turn. All the horrible things that can go wrong. Everything I should have done differently. After what feels like an eternity, Jake walks out of the room. I hurry toward him. “How is she? What’s happening?”
Gone is the gentle man I’m used to. His eyes are cold as he grabs my bicep and drags me away from Bria. “Jake, tell
me, is she okay?”
He stops abruptly, opens a door, and throws me inside a supply closet.
“Jake—”
“Is she mine?”
His voice is consumed with utter rage.
“Jake—”
“Answer me!” I startle at his tone.
“Yes.” Turning, he punches his fist to the wall, then swipes a row of supplies off a shelf. “I tried to tell you—”
“You didn’t try hard enough!” He whips around, his chest heaving. “Is this what you survived? Is this why you left?”
I refuse to take the blame for this. I’m the victim here. Not him. He’s been jet-setting in France and living his life while I debated whether mine was truly worth living. While I suffered from so much loneliness, I couldn’t bother to leave my bed for days. While I gave birth to a child, alone and scared. All because everyone in my life shoved me away and forgot about me.
“Don’t you dare turn this around on me. You left me. I tried to reach you. I spent weeks struggling to contact you. I even went to your mother.” He freezes as his eyes narrow. “Yeah, and she told me to get well and shooed me away. Not even a day later, I received an email from you telling me you didn’t want it. That I was a mistake, you were proposing to Rebecca, and you wished me well.”
With wide eyes, he flinches and steps back as if I just slapped him. “I never would have done that.”
“But you did!” I lash out.
“You think that low of me? After everything, you think if you had told me I got you pregnant that night, I would have sent you an email saying to abort it?”
I choke on my own truth. Because I don’t think he would do that. “Yes.” The lie is sour in my mouth.
He comes at me, his grip bruising my shoulders. “I came back for you.”
“And I wasn’t there because I was shipped off to a nunnery to have a baby alone while my parents told everyone I was touring the world. When I was given an ultimatum that I could either return home without my child and stick to the lie, or not come home at all, I chose our child.”