Tethered (62 page)

“I’m fine,” I said quickly.

He sighed and met my eyes. I wanted to look away, because I knew he could see into me with those eyes, but I held his gaze.

“Can you please sit down?” he asked softly. “For me.”

I hesitated a moment and then silently nodded.

“We can sit outside,” he said, gesturing to the sliding doors that led into the backyard. There were several people outside and a lot of kids, and a couple of men stood around a grill drinking and barbecuing burgers and hotdogs and steaks. Emmet put his hand on the small of my back and led me outside and across the yard to a seating area that was away from the rest of the party.

“I’ll be right back,” he said after he made me sit. He disappeared back into the house for a couple of minutes and then reappeared carrying a bottle of water and a plate of fruit and cheeses. He set them down on the table in front of me and even went as far as to open the bottle of water for me.

My hormones suddenly turned on me. I turned my head away from him as I started to cry. Why the hell was I crying? It was just fruit and cheese.

No, it was Emmet looking out for me, worried about me holding Owen, making me sit, and now bringing me food.

I only cried for about fifteen seconds before my hormones jumped back to the land of the normal. I turned back, but focused my eyes on the plate of food and ignored Emmet’s heavy gaze.

“So, this is really happening,” he said with resignation.

“What is really happening?” I asked quietly as I pushed a grape around with my fork.

“You’re having a baby and she isn’t mine.”

His hands fisted on the table not far from my plate.

“Yeah, well, welcome to my world.”

“How much more am I going to be punished for what happened?” He asked earnestly.

“Here’s a piece of interesting news, Emmet,” I said as I looked at him again. “I did not get pregnant to hurt you.”

He sighed, but fell into silence as he stared at my belly. After several seconds, he scooted to the end of his chair until his knees touched mine, and to my surprise, he placed his hand on my unborn baby. I gasped lightly and my body trembled slightly. Seeing Emmet’s hand on my pregnant belly stirred a pot of emotions inside of me that had me blinking back tears.

“I really wish things were different,” Emmet said, just above a whisper. “I wish you were carrying my baby, Donya. I love Owen and I would never wish him away, but I wish we had made different decisions and then this baby would have been ours, together.”

I was thankful that my back was to the men at the grill and most others in the yard, because tears streamed down my cheeks and I couldn’t stop them.

“But even though she isn’t mine, she is a part of you, and I know I’ll love her,” Emmet said. His eyes were moist. He managed to keep the tears at bay, but he seemed to be unable to take his hand away.

I raised my hand off of the table and then hesitantly covered his hand with my own. In that exact instant, the baby moved and we watched as our hands were pushed upward by her movement. It was almost as if she knew what kind of love was there in those two hands and she was reaching for it, because my belly rose again and again.

“This is how it was supposed to be,” Emmet whispered as his eyes met mine.

“There you are,” Casey’s voice infiltrated our moment and I hastily pulled my hand away and wiped away my tears. Emmet only reluctantly pulled his hand away as his wife approached. She stopped beside Emmet and made a sympathetic sound. “Oh, god. Pregnancy hormones?”

I forced myself to laugh lightly and wiped my eyes again. “Yeah, I mean who would have thought that cheese could make a girl cry?”

“Tell me about it. I cried about everything, too.”

I didn’t want to hear about Casey’s pregnancy. Seeing Owen was different, but hearing about those months would bother me. Fortunately, she didn’t continue, but what happened next bothered me just as much if not more. Casey pushed Emmet’s hair off of his forehead and out of his eyes.

“I hate when your hair gets this long,” she murmured.

I loved when his hair was longish like that. I loved the way it fell across his forehead and how random strands fell into his eyes. How could she hate that?

Emmet pulled away from Casey’s touch. A hurt expression crossed her face, but she quickly covered it with a chuckle and let her hand drop to her side.

I didn’t know what to make of this. Maybe they had a fight earlier in the day and Emmet wasn’t over it. Even though I could normally sense Emmet’s emotions, I couldn’t get a read on what he was feeling for Casey, and after some thought, I realized I didn’t want to know.

I stood up abruptly.

“I’m sorry,” I said to them. “I need to go find Emmy. God only knows when I’ll see her again after today.”

“Right, of course,” Casey said, smiling. It could have been my imagination, but her smile looked a little tight and I had to wonder how much she saw happen between me and Emmet.

Later that evening I sat at the kitchen table watching Emmy and Luke. When Emmy first moved in with Luke, things were tense and she was clearly unhappy. I was under the impression that Luke didn’t like her very much for all of the things she had done, but in a matter of months, their relationship had improved dramatically. They still weren’t a couple, but their relationship was more than just raising a son together. It appeared that they were friends, and maybe more, judging by the way Luke looked at her when she wasn’t paying attention. Maybe there was some hope for them.

I wished that I had the same confidence about my own circumstances.

I don’t think that Jerry ever truly meant his promise that we would eventually have kids. He probably would have said anything to keep me appeased and on his arm. If he ever wanted kids in the future, he would have gotten over his initial shock and he would have been excited about our baby. Instead, he avoided me as if I had a communicable, deadly disease. I was already having some regrets by the time I entered my last trimester, but after the way Emmet lovingly caressed the baby bump that was in no way his, my regrets were threatening to drown me, right there in the middle of Lucas’s party, in front of a dozen other people, my soul mate and his wife.

*~*~*

Rosa Andrea Vasquez slept peacefully in my arms, oblivious to my tears that fell on the soft blanket she was swaddled in.

It was just us, just she and I. Jerry did not show up to watch his daughter’s birth or to even support her mother. I knew he wasn’t happy about becoming a father, but I honestly believed he would have put that aside for
this
. When I called him on my way to the hospital, he was getting ready for a home game. He could have easily gotten out of it, but he didn’t even try. He behaved as if my labor and subsequent child bearing was somehow inconveniencing him. The game had been over for hours, but still Jerry did not show.

I couldn’t stop thinking about Emmet, our hands on my belly and his obvious love for a baby that he had no part in creating. I wanted Jerry there because he was my husband and Rosa’s father, but my need for Emmet while I sat there in that hospital bed holding my daughter was emotionally and mentally crippling. He was the man I should have been having a baby with, just as he said. It was meant to be that way. I went against our nature. I was not meant to be sitting in a hospital room alone with my hours-old baby. I had no one to blame but myself. I had no right to hold Emmet accountable for impregnating Casey while I was planning a wedding with Jerry. Even as hurt and angry as I was, I should have canceled the wedding. The price of my folly was more than I could pay.

My tears fell in a deluge now, and my body trembled violently with my sobbing. The nurse walked in, took one look at me and instantly took Rosa from my arms.

“I’ll take her down to the nursery,” she said gently. She took my baby away despite my tearful objections.

Then I was entirely desolate and decidedly inconsolable.

Jerry arrived early the next morning, just in time to pretend to be the happy new father in front of Sam and Fred who flew in late the night before. I didn’t play into his false excitement over Rosa. I didn’t do much of anything. I sat quietly, always with tears brimming, as Sam, Fred, Jerry, and later Jerry’s sisters made a fuss over Rosa. I couldn’t pull off Supermodel Donya and pretend to care, because she was sitting in a corner crying hysterically.

The doctors tried to diagnose me with postpartum depression and feed me drugs, but I was very blunt with them.

“My husband was never interested in my pregnancy and didn’t bother to show up for our daughter’s birth. He’s pretending to be happy now because people are watching him, but he doesn’t want her. He doesn’t want children. Last month I saw the man I should have married and he showed more interest in my pregnancy and my baby than my husband has shown in nine months. There aren’t enough drugs in the universe to fix this.”

After I convinced him that I did not have any violent feelings towards my baby, he backed off and signed my release papers.

I refused to wallow in my self-pity after Rosa and I went home. I couldn’t fix the past and what I lost with Emmet, but I could fix my current situation or move on. My first night home from the hospital, I stayed up late waiting for Jerry to come home from his game. The door had barely closed behind him when I started to speak.

“You have a choice,” I said quietly, but firmly as I sat in the dimly lit living room in an armchair.

He stood there, unsure of what to say or do. This was the first time in months that I stayed up to wait for him after a game. We had been living two separate lives. We only slept in the same bed out of habit, not because he wanted to feel my warm body wrapped around his in the night. I had learned early in my pregnancy not to touch him. The rejection hurt too much to repeat.

“What are you talking about?” he finally asked, with a tired sigh. He dropped down on the couch and waited patiently.

“It’s after midnight, it’s a new day,” I said. “What we couldn’t or refused to fix yesterday, we can fix today. Today you can choose to be the husband I married; funny, sweet, loving, and caring. You can choose to be the father you are more than capable of being and love your daughter. It doesn’t matter if you didn’t want a child before I got pregnant, you have one now. You can do those things or Rosa and I can leave and we will get divorced. I can raise her with or without you and I can live with or without you. I love you, but I don’t need you, Jerry.”

Jerry looked at me for a long time before dropping his gaze to the floor. He was silent for so long I thought for sure had made his decision. I started to get up, but his voice stopped me.

“I haven’t been good to you and I haven’t been good to the baby,” he said.

“Her name is Rosa,” I said sharply.

“Rosa,” he weighed her name on his lips. He finally looked at me then. “I love you and believe it or not I love Rosa. I can’t tell you that I’m going to become Husband of the Year or Super Dad but I will… try. I don’t want a divorce, Donya.”

I should have asked for explanations – why didn’t he want a divorce, why would he only
try
and not
do
, and if he still loved me and if he loved Rosa, why had he been so cold and distant for so long? But I didn’t ask. I took his word at face value.

“Okay,” I said after a moment. “Thank you.”

I stood up and started towards the bedroom, but Jerry’s hand on my shoulder stopped me. He moved in front of me and put his arms around me. Automatically, I reciprocated and put my arms around him, too. He held me close and whispered in my ear.

“You’re still my princess,” he said. “I’ll try to make you happy again.”

I didn’t answer. I just let him hold me, but I knew deep down that only one person could ever make me truly happy, but I didn’t have him. So I’d have to make do.

Book
Three

Chapter Fifty-Two

I watched with apprehension as Emmy transformed from a smiling, glowing, happy woman into a monster, shouting and snarling. Seconds later she burst into tears.

“Why can’t everyone just do what I want them to do?” she asked no one in particular. Luke pulled her into his arms and she mumbled some other indiscernible words that were muffled because her face was in his shirt.

“I said I would do it,” I said, still staring in shock at her back. “I just thought that maybe that was something you would want to handle yourself.”

For the rest of my life, I will swear that Emmy’s head twisted around on her neck like some demonized fictional character, and her eyes were orbs of fire. I’ll stand by that statement for the rest of my life. “Obviously I can’t handle it myself,” she snapped at me in a raspy voice that was foreign to her vocal cords.

I put a hand on my hip. I flew into Chicago earlier that day, alone, with a baby, so that I could be of some assistance to her and Luke. There was a snow storm due the day I was supposed to fly back home, which meant I would probably be stuck in the frozen tundra of Chicago for no less than a week. I could have stayed the hell home and sent a congratulatory card. I was just about to put her in her place when a strong arm closed over my shoulder and gently pulled me back away from Emmy.