“I’m sorry. I didn’t expect to see you here. Don’t you live in LA?” I tried to cover up my abrasive response with a question.
“San Diego,” he answered, as he moved back into the cubicle-like room.
I looked back down at Christopher as Rhys got nearer to where I sat, unable to meet his eyes. By now, everyone knew Jackson Radcliffe was not Christopher’s father. I spoke to Jackson last week and cleared the air about everything. But no one knew who Christopher’s father was and I wasn’t planning on telling anyone, especially not the man who fathered him. Christopher had my last name. He was mine and mine alone. Now, the man I was hoping would leave us alone to live our lives was here, standing in front of me, looking devilishly handsome and wreaking havoc on my fragile emotions.
I didn’t want to hurt him, not any more than I already had. Not any more than I had already hurt everyone. We couldn’t be together for a lot of reasons and I didn’t want him to feel an obligation to Christopher I never intended to make him uphold. Jessica kept me updated on Rhys’s career. I knew the last tour really put his band on the map, and their album release this week topped the charts in sales. He didn’t need me or my sickly baby dragging him down. I had done enough damage to last me a lifetime.
“Right, San Diego. Are you in town for business?” I wanted him to leave, and asking more questions wasn’t the way to accomplish that.
“No, I came to see you, like I said I would.” The look in his eyes was intense, boring straight to my soul, and I had to close my eyes to break the contact. Why was he doing this to me after I was so cruel to him?
“Oh, uh, you didn’t have to come. I’m fine.” I huddled over Christopher more, wrapping my body around him as best I could as Rhys sauntered even closer to where we sat.
I was suddenly very self-conscious about my unkempt state, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. Showering wasn’t a priority and it had been at least two days since the last time I had one. My clothes, a pair of gray sweatpants and old Columbia t-shirt, were ripe and stiff, but I didn’t care. At least not until Rhys walked into the room.
“I had to see if you were all right, to check on you and Christopher. Since I heard about him, I haven’t been able to think about anything else.” He held up his hands as if in surrender. “I know how lame that sounds but it’s the truth, and I only want truth between us now.”
Truth.
Did he know about Jackson? Was he here to tell me he knew Christopher was his, the product of a night of passion in a dark alley at one of the lowest points in my life?
“Look, Rhys,” I started, but he held his hand up again.
“I’m not asking for anything, Natalie. I know you have a lot on your plate right now, but I came because I had to see you. I don’t believe that you are back with your ex-husband, even if you had his baby. What we shared—last time, the time before, any of the times we were together, though brief—wasn’t something I ever experienced before. I came because I was worried about you. And I’m here because I wanted you to know I wasn’t going to give up as easily as I have before.”
“Rhys, I can’t. I mean, I don’t have anything to offer you.” I shrugged with one shoulder as I spoke.
“I’m not asking for anything,” he repeated, now standing directly over me.
“Rhys,” I whispered his name like a pledge, a chant that would keep me from falling from a cliff. I wanted to tell him everything. About Christopher, about the way I felt, because I felt so alone in this hospital room, day in and day out, with only the thoughts and memories of how I had done so much more harm than good in my lifetime. But the words lodged in my throat with the lump of tears that developed, and I had to look down at Christopher again.
“I’m only in town for a few days because I have to be back in LA for our album release party this weekend. But I’ll come back if you need me.”
I shook my head. This was why I couldn’t tell him. Because Rhys was a good guy, and good guys gave up their whole lives for babies that were theirs. Rhys had too much to lose, much more than me. I knew that now, and I couldn’t ruin his life because I had ruined mine. Christopher wasn’t a mistake but my actions, the way I handled everything was, and I wouldn’t bring Rhys down with me when I fell. As I fell.
“We’re fine,” I mumbled again, brushing the tears from my eyes swiftly with the back of my hand so he wouldn’t see.
“I don’t believe you.” His hand enveloped mine, holding on to me when I was grasping at empty space.
“You have to, because I need you to.” My words were soft, but he heard them. I could tell by the renewed pressure on my hand.
“Natalie, you don’t have to do this.” I wanted to believe his declaration was his way of telling me he knew about Christopher, but I also knew Rhys believed me when I told him the baby was Jackson’s all those weeks ago. The fact that he wanted to be here in spite of that made me hold faster and stronger to my resolve not to tell him. If he knew, he would drop everything for us.
“I do. I’ll be fine. You have to be back for your album release party and I have to be here with Christopher. It won’t work, Rhys. We are on different coasts, in different places in our lives and careers. You have your life in California, your music, your band. I have Christopher. We have to keep it that way or we will both be unhappy.” Rhys wanted truth so I gave it to him, without giving him all of it.
“You don’t know that.” He tried to say it with conviction, but I could tell he was beginning to agree with me, to doubt his own words.
“I do. And so do you.” I wasn’t trying to hurt him, but even so, I could see I was. No matter what I did, I hurt everyone I cared about.
“I’ll stay with you for a little while today, and I’ll come back tomorrow too. But you’re right. I have to finish what I started with the band. But if you need me, you’ll call right?” He was still holding my hand, pressing it to his chest, just above his heart.
The symbolism of it made the lump return to my throat but I swallowed it back and cleared my throat. “Yeah. I’ll call.”
It was a lie because I wouldn’t and I think, based on the slight nod he gave me, he knew it too.
* * *
Rhys sat with me for two hours while I held Christopher. He talked to me about his band, his tour, and his new album. I sat there, cuddling my baby, and listened because everything I wanted to say was clogged in my chest in a tight knot. Because I couldn’t say the one thing I wanted to.
“That brings me to today, when I spontaneously decided to buy a plane ticket to New York.” Rhys laughed as he said it, but I could tell he was self-conscious about his decision.
“Spontaneous?” I asked because I had to know if what he said before, about wanting to come to New York after he found out about Christopher, was true.
A slight blush rose under Rhys’s trimmed sandy-colored beard. “Well, not so spontaneous.” He chuckled again. “I’ve been thinking about it for a few weeks.”
I smiled, looking back down at Christopher for a minute, as the words I couldn’t say swelled in my chest again.
“Are you excited about the album release? I’ve been following the results so far,” I said instead.
“It’s been a whirlwind. The back-to-back tours and now the album release seem like they’ve happened so quickly. But this was what we wanted when we started the band back in college. I never thought people would stop me on the street and know who I am.”
I opened my mouth to speak but a nurse popped into the room at the same time and I closed it again abruptly.
“How is everything?” she asked as she ambled over to where I sat with Christopher in my arms.
“Great. He’s sleeping.” Nerves assaulted my belly again as I handed Christopher to the nurse, who began to do the routine checks of his blood pressure, oxygen, and everything else under the sun.
“He’s doing great. I think the time spent being held is really helping him with his breathing. Fingers crossed that we only have a few more weeks left on the v
entilator.” The nurse crossed her fingers in front of her face as she spoke to me and I nodded.
“That would be great.” I could feel tears begin to clog my throat again. Between the postpartum hormones, the lack of sleep, and proper food, I was a mess lately.
The nurse patted me on the arm with sympathy as she walked out of the room. I was alone again with Rhys, not holding the baby as a barrier between the two of us. Self-consciousness at my appearance gripped me again, and I fidgeted with my t-shirt hem as I stood next to the incubator.
“You could wear a potato sack and still look beautiful, Natalie,” Rhys said from directly behind me.
I pivoted swiftly, which was a bad idea because now we were face-to-face, our bodies inches apart. He was so close I could smell his scent, which wrapped around me like a warm blanket, filling me with a comfort I didn’t deserve. I looked up at him because his proximity highlighted the almost full foot of height difference between us, and I couldn’t see his eyes without tipping my head back.
“I don’t want to leave him for very long.” I used the excuse as a way of explaining why I was such a mess. But it wasn’t really an excuse; my heart ached and felt empty when I was away from him for more than a few minutes a day.
“You don’t have to explain yourself to me. Not ever. Christopher needs you now.” Rhys placed a gentle hand on my arm, sending a bolt of lightning straight to my core with the contact. It was meant to be a comfort, just as when the nurse did it, but it morphed into something else as he began to draw slow circles on my forearm with his thumb.
Our eyes met, the electric blue depths of his not hiding any of the lust or desire I was trying to suppress in mine. This was wrong and inappropriate, but I couldn’t stop the way I felt about Rhys and for a moment, I didn’t want to. For years, I was Natalie Livingston, ballbuster and grade-A bitch. Now I was Natalie Livingston, mother to a micro-preemie and failure at relationships. I didn’t want to be any of those things for a moment. I just wanted to be the woman Rhys looked at like he was going to devour her in one bite. I wanted to feel passion instead of fear, lust instead of anxiety. I wanted to be someone else.
But, just as it always did when I wasn’t thinking, reality came slamming back like ice water over my head. Christopher’s monitors began to beep with fervor and I jumped back from Rhys, swinging around to my son. I grabbed the button to signal the nurses, but they were already flying into the room. They pushed me out of the way to get to him, and the shrill sounds of the monitors wailing were like a knife in my soul.
“What’s going on?!” I shouted over the noise, not caring if I disturbed the other families who were doing their best to avert their eyes from my panic. They didn’t want to be reminded of the tenuous string that held their own child’s life in the balance.
“It’s all right, Natalie. It’s okay. The doctor is on her way. His pulse ox dropped a bit low, as well as his blood pressure, but we are getting it back up. We just need to make sure he doesn’t have an underlying infection, especially since he was doing so well up to now.”
Rhys was still in the room but I lost track of him, until his large frame wrapped around mine. I wanted to sink into him, to get lost in his security and warmth. It would have been so easy to accept what he was offering and lose myself, but I didn’t have the luxury of forgetting myself, as I was so harshly reminded. Shaking him off, I stepped back towards Christopher’s incubator.
The beeping had stopped and my heart rate was beginning to slow to its regular pace. Everything was still chaotic though. The doctor came in and examined him. She wanted to take some blood and by the time the crowd cleared out and everything settled, I was exhausted.
I collapsed into the chair, leaning forward and putting my face in my hands. The day was longer than most, but it seemed every few days, something came up with Christopher and I was always in fear of his life.
“Do you need anything?” Rhys. I had forgotten about him again.
“No, I’m fine.” I was back to this. Suddenly I wanted him to leave.
“Are you sure? I can bring you dinner or something?” His tone was tentative, as if he didn’t know what to say, or how I would react.
I shook my head vehemently. The room was closing in on me and I had to get Rhys out of here before I broke down in front of him. If he saw me break down, if he saw how I was teetering so close to the edge, it would ruin everything. I might let loose all I was holding back, and he would give up everything he worked so hard for to be with us. I couldn’t let that happen.
“No, no. I don’t want anything, Rhys. I think you should go.”
Shock flitted across his face for a second before it was masked with a scowl. “I know you’re under a lot of pressure, Nat…” he began.
“You have no idea what kind of pressure I’m under. You have no idea what it’s like to be here every single second of every single day, and not know if your child will live or die. I told you I couldn’t do this with you right now, and I meant it. Go home, Rhys. Have your record release party and live your life and forget about me.” Hot tears ran down my face as I spoke the words I hoped would finally push him away for good. The words that threatened to rip my heart out and break it into a million pieces.
“You don’t mean that, Natalie,” Rhys said, his voice low as he ran a hand through his already disheveled hair.
I nodded my head. “I do. Please go.”
And without a backwards glance, he did.
16
Rhys
I left, just as Natalie asked me too. Even though I could see in her eyes she wanted me to stay. Even though, right before Christopher’s monitors began to shrill, I could see the same thing in her eyes that I felt. How I hadn’t noticed it until now, I didn’t know, but it was there now. Maybe because Natalie was in such a vulnerable state and unable to hide from me any longer. Whatever the reason, I was going to let her have some space, as if that wasn’t what had been happening for the last few months. But I was going to give her the space she claimed she needed, to sort out what was happening with Christopher and her life. Until I thought she was ready. Until she showed me she was ready.
Growling out a frustrated sigh, I collected my duffle bag from the back seat of the Uber and got out at the airport terminal. My flight didn’t leave for another two hours, but I had nowhere else to go in the city. And Natalie had asked me to leave.
“Are you the singer from Weighted Armor?” I heard from behind me, snapping me from my thoughts.
I turned to see a pair of young girls, probably no more than sixteen, standing behind me, wide smiles on their faces. The fame that came with our recent explosion wasn’t something I was used to and for a moment, I didn’t know what to say. I removed my head from my ass long enough to sign an autograph for them, plug our album, and make my way to the terminal to wait for my plane.
By the time my flight took off, I had mired myself into a pit of self-doubt about this whole situation with Natalie. I couldn’t remember a time when I was this torn about a woman, and it was shaking me off of my foundation. It made no sense, the way I felt about her. Not after only knowing her for several months and only being with her twice. But here I was, lost deep in thought about a woman who had dismissed me more times than I could count.
The four-hour flight felt like an eternity, alone with my thoughts, and when I finally returned home, the only thing I wanted was a shower and a nap. As I dropped my bag and shed my jacket, placing it on the back of the bar stool in the kitchen, my phone began to ring from the pocket.
I was going to ignore it because I needed a day without the demands of the industry, but I knew that wasn’t practical.
“Yeah,” I barked into the phone with a grumpier tone than I had intended.
“Rhys, bruh, where have you been? Nathan has been trying to call you for hours.” Rob’s voice came over the line, irritated and high-pitched, and I gritted my teeth against the retort that was waiting for him.
“I had some shit to do in New York. I just g
ot back. What’s up?” I plopped onto the couch, resting my head on the back and closing my eyes.
“New York? What the hell kind of shit do you have in New York?” I wracked my brain to come up with an excuse, but before I had to, he started up again. “They want us to do an impromptu show tomorrow, in LA, as a way to welcome us home from the tour, as well as drum up more sales for the album. We have to meet in an hour for sound check.”
My brain, fried and exhausted, couldn’t answer Rob right away, and I stared at the ceiling as I tried to find the energy to respond.
“Rhys? You still there?” Rob asked, his tone taking on a slightly desperate edge.
“Yeah, I’m here. I’ll be there in an hour. Text me the directions and I’ll meet you there.”
“All right, cool. See you soon.” Relief was evident in his tone.
I couldn’t blame Rob for his, or any of the other guys’, concern I may not show up. They’ve watch me spiral for weeks now, with the drinking and melancholy without any explanation, not that I owed them one. Though, if I was being honest, I guess I did, considering their careers depended on me, and vice versa. I knew it was only a matter of time before they wanted me to explain. Today wasn’t the day though. Not today.
With one last sigh, I stood and headed to my room. I had about ten minutes to shower and get ready if I was going to make it LA in under two hours.
17
Natalie
“You should go home and get some sleep.” My dad startled me from dozing as he walked into the room, his loud voice booming in the sanctuary of silence I had created around Christopher.
I shook my head. “You know I won’t do that.”
After a month and a half, I practically lived in the NICU at the children’s hospital where Christopher was transferred, and I wasn’t planning on going home anytime soon. My apartment seemed like a distant memory, a place I used to live, and I had only been there once or twice in the last two weeks alone. I brought a bag with me to the hospital, sleeping in the chair, and using the sink to bathe when I couldn’t stand the smell of myself any longer.
One Song: book two in the one series Page 11