Present
They say if you love someone, you’re supposed to set them free. What if it’s the other way around? They set you free. Am I supposed to fly back? Or am I supposed to leave it up to fate? There’s a high chance fate isn’t on my side, my wings having been clipped, and without them I can’t soar.
This was me after Lex told me he was done.
The storm set in that night at the restaurant where I broke the heart of the one guy who actually loved me enough to want to be with me despite what I’d put him through. But it wasn’t fair, life wasn’t fair. Why didn’t I love Julian the same way I loved Lex? Life would have been easy then. Okay, so it wasn’t the love that set me on fire, but he was safe and solid. No past, no memories.
Yet he deserves better than me, better than this rollercoaster I put him through. I did to him just what Lex had done to me all those years ago. How can I cause so much pain when I know firsthand how much it hurts to be treated like that?
It starts to rain, but I walk at a normal pace, the people around me scurrying for cover and looking at me like I belong on another planet, but I don’t care. It all feels so insignificant now. The cold rain is drenching my barely-covered body as the fabric of my dress clings to my skin, and I shiver uncontrollably.
As I enter my apartment, I make my way to the bathroom ignoring Coco purring by the door. Turning the bath on, I let the hot water steam up the room. I wipe the mirror with my hand to look at my face. My mascara is smeared under my eyes, my lipstick is long gone, and my hair is a wild, tangled mess. I strip out of my clothes and climb into the hot bath, a small slice of heaven in a fucked- up situation.
Sinking further, I let it spread over my body. The warmth provides me with security for a short time, but then the water slowly becomes cold, and the reality hits me just as hard. After a solid hour, I climb out and make my way to the bedroom. Putting my pajamas on, I tuck myself in, willing myself to close my eyes.
It’s the first night I have cried myself to sleep since the morning I left The Hamptons.
The next day, I do everything possible to keep myself busy. I go for a run, but without Kate, it isn’t the same. I do my laundry and grocery shopping even though I have zero appetite. I clean my entire apartment and then watch three movies back to back hoping for some comic relief. It’s only six in the evening, but I decide to go to Adriana’s early for the final fitting for my dress she keeps nagging me about. It isn’t until about an hour ago when I realize I promised Will we’d watch the meteor shower together on his rooftop at eight.
I welcome the drive to Brooklyn, deciding to take my bike out. As I drive onto her street, I park the bike, pulling my helmet off. Okay, Brooklyn isn’t my favorite place to leave the bike, but I made friends with the guys down the road last time I was here, and they told me they had my back. Well, so far, they did anyway.
I make my way up to her apartment and knock on the door. Elijah answers, but when he sees me, his face appears panicked. I can’t blame him, I know I look like fucking shit. There are just some things that makeup can’t cover.
“What are you doing here?” he asks, looking back into the living room.
“Fitting. Apparently, I’ve lost weight, and Bridezilla says I need to fatten up to fit back in the dress.”
“Oh, right, the fitting. Wasn’t that supposed to be after eight?” Again, he turns around, the sweat beads forming on his forehead.
“Uh, yeah, but I have to see Will tonight, so I was hoping to get this done early. Elijah, are you okay? Did I catch you in the middle of something?”
Oh My God! Was Elijah having an affair, hence the panic? I seriously need to stop watching The Bold and the Beautiful.
“Just hang on a sec, Charlie…” He scurries out of the room leaving me to wait confused by his odd behavior. It isn’t long before I hear the familiar voice. Panicking, my body freezes. I’m unable to move, unable to run away like I so desperately want to.
Fuck! It’s him.
I don’t want to be here, but it’s too late. His voice gets closer and closer. Turning the corner, our eyes meet for the briefest of seconds. His stare freezes over like winter’s ice, robbing me of the warmth which spreads throughout me each time our gaze meets.
Adriana panics as well, asking me why I’m early. I explain my plans for tonight, and in a flash, he says goodbye to them, ignoring me, and walks out the door.
He looks amazingly beautiful.
And I miss him so much.
My stomach is in knots when I realize how easy it is for him to ignore me. He’s truly done, and that inkling, the little ray of hope, walks out the door with him. I’m left standing here, mustering any bit of dignity I have left.
“Char… c’mon, let’s have coffee before the fitting,” Adriana offers.
“When you say coffee, you meant vodka, right?”
She laughs as we walk into the kitchen. I sit at the small round table, flipping aimlessly through a wedding magazine that sits in front of me while she starts the Keurig. The pictures are all one big blur. I need a distraction, anything to stop me from remembering the way he looks, the way he gave up on me, again.
“We won’t talk about him.”
“Thank you.” It’s all I can manage to say.
Handing me a cup of steaming coffee, she leads me to her guest room where I change into my dress. I can’t help but look over at the suits that are hanging on the rack, especially the one with the Post-it note scribbled with Lex.
“Adriana, when did you really know Elijah was the one?”
She removes the pins out of her mouth, placing them back into her sewing box. “I think it was my first year of college. I mean, yeah, I always fantasized about marrying him. I’m sure you remember how much I talked about that in our senior year.
I nod with a smile. “Yes, you did.”
“I sure did love him, but you know it was high school, and I was only eighteen. Then the first year of college was rough. We were apart, and I had lost you. Lex had gone AWOL, and I really felt alone. I made some friends on campus, and there was this one guy, Matthew. He was great, your typical college jock, sweet and a great friend.” She smiles at the memory before continuing, “One day he made a move, and I froze. I didn’t see him that way, and I apologized that I gave him the wrong impression. Naturally, being a great guy, he understood, but then I asked myself what made me stop. And then I realized Elijah was the only one who’d ever kissed me, the only one who had ever touched me, and I didn’t want that to change. I knew I wanted him for the rest of my life but trying to propose to a guy takes balls.”
“You proposed to Elijah?”
“No, although I was close to doing it. He proposed to me. It was our second year of college, and he was studying art. I never really saw much of his work because it was very private to him. One day, he invited me to have dinner in his dorm room. Not the most romantic of settings but, of course, he’d decked it out with a million candles. Anyway, he said he wanted to show me what his assignment was, it was supposed to be something that captured you. He pulled the curtain away, and there was this black and white painting. It was me.
“But the thing was it looked so familiar, the scene, and then he told me it was when we used to sit by the lake and watch the sunrise. We never took photographs of that time, but he told me he knew he loved me even back then, and that image will be forever engrained in his memory. I was touched, of course, but what caught my eye was that the portrait of me sitting by the lake had something different. There was a wedding band in the painting. It stood out because everything was black and white, but the band… it was gold. I started to cry, and then he got down on one knee and asked me to marry him.”
“Oh my God, Adriana. That’s so sweet.” I choke back the tears threatening to fall. “You guys are soul mates, you know that, right?”
“I wouldn’t marry him if I didn’t think so myself.” She grins.
“You deserve only the best… I really mean that.”
With a sigh, she gazes at me sympathetically. “In the end, Char, it will all work out. I promise you.”
***
It’s well after midnight when I crawled into bed that night. The fitting went well, and according to Adriana, I’d lost a few pounds. It’s not like I needed a reminder of why my jeans feel loose around my waist.
As I lay alone in bed, the thoughts keep plaguing me, especially the way Lex ignored me. His face, tonight, the way he avoided looking at me, the way he couldn’t even say a word to me made my stomach queasy. The images, the memories of us standing in that gazebo saying ‘I do,’ he was my husband, and it hurt like fucking hell that he had forgotten that. Now what? Do we get a divorce? Annulment? Was it actually valid?
It’s the second night I have cried myself to sleep.
I’d spend the majority of the week with Will, taking him to school, picking him up from school, taking him to the park, museum, and library, practically visiting every part of Manhattan. Nikki encourages me to take the week off since my cases are quiet, and I gladly welcome the break looking for any distraction to get me through this tough time.
Despite a tiresome week seeing every sight possible, I can’t shake how ill I feel. I barely sleep and wake up in hot and cold sweats. I blame my binge drinking for my immune system taking a massive hit.
The vomiting hasn’t stopped, so I narrow it down to Will’s stomach bug. He caught it early last week, and I’ve been around him when he was contagious. Even in my sickly state, I try to get in some time at the office until Nikki sends me home, refusing for the rest of our staff to become infected. When I try to argue, she pulls out the health and safety policy of our team, which I can’t argue with.
By Tuesday, I’m told not to even step foot in the office. I hate being home alone. It gives me too much time to think. By Wednesday, I’m going insane, and I don’t feel any better.
Sitting on the couch certain I have some deadly disease, I decide to drag my sorry ass to the drug store. I’m out of Pepto-Bismol and Advil and need something stronger to battle whatever is wrong with me.
Dressed in my sweats with my purse in hand, I wait for the pharmacist who is busy talking to a lady who looks like she’s about to pop out an elephant. I half-smile at her as she rubs her belly, complaining to the pharmacist about the terrible heartburn she’s having.
I’m not really listening to the entire conversation, but something about her piques my interest. Despite her complaint, her face glows, her long red hair has that shine, the one they always say pregnant ladies have. Her loose dress hangs comfortably over her stomach, and her ankles are as swollen as tree trunks. I wince at the thought of being in so much pain.
However, she still looks beautiful, and then it hits me like a ton of bricks laced with acid.
My period.
In a panic, I scroll through my phone unable to locate my calendar. My hands shake as I fumble through the apps, finally locating it. I go back through the months. I get my period like I normally do but my shot. Shit. Unable to calm down, I search in panic, and there it is, the reminder to get my shot over a month ago.
“Miss, can I help you?”
Staring blankly into her face, I’d be lying if I smiled and said everything’s okay. I don’t need help, not when the weight of my mistake comes crashing down like a vicious storm.
Without warning, I fall to the cold floor, my chest heaving as vomit sprays out of my mouth hitting the area surrounding me. A scurry of assistants come to my assistance with a bucket and cold towel. The voices surround me, but my body continues to shake, the heaving persistent. Gasping for air, I struggle to breathe, another person handing me a paper bag. I take it from her, placing it on my mouth and sucking in the air.
In the midst of this breakdown, I motion for my phone. With trembling hands scrolling through the screen, my vision begins to blur, but I manage to find Nikki’s number. I dial it, passing the phone to the lady beside me. She talks, panicked, but I rest my head against the hard concrete desperate to shut my eyes.
I don’t know how long I lay on the floor, not until I hear a familiar voice yelling for everyone to back the fuck up.
“Charlie, Charlie… look at me?”
Nikki is kneeling beside me, her brows wrinkling as she stares at me waiting for a response.
“Nikki,” I croak, barely able to say her name. “I want to go home…”
“Charlie, I really think we should call the paramedics.”
I shake my head, still struggling with my words. “No… please don’t.”
“But Charlie—”
“Nikki, stop! Just help me stand. Please.”
She grabs my arm, and I manage to stand though unsteady on my feet. I beg again to go home, but before we do, I ask Nikki for a favor as I wait on the chair with a brown paper bag.
***
I sit on my bathroom floor beside Nikki in a catatonic state staring at the three pregnancy tests, each a different brand, all lying side by side marked with the two blue lines which have decided my fate.
“Charlie. Three tests can’t be wrong. They’re all positive.”
I continue to sit in silence, not even blinking as I watch, hoping for a miracle that the lines all become one. Just one line. My vision clouds, why is this happening? The lines are staring me in the face—nothing can make them change. Closing my eyes, I pray that this is an awful dream, and at any moment I’ll wake up, and everything will be back to normal, but minutes later, I open them, the reality a huge slap in the face is still staring at me.
Nikki shifts closer to me, placing her arm around me, pulling me into her.“Look, girl, I’m sorry, but I gotta ask… whose?”
Turning to face her, I search her eyes for any sort of judgment. She’s my best friend, and if anyone understands, it will be Nikki. I close my eyes again, remembering the past few months. Who I fucked, where I fucked, when I fucked, and what the fuck did I use?
I ramble through my thoughts which are causing my head to ache, a migraine now imminent. I used condoms, I gave head, and he fucked me in the ass. My body sinks and the weight of my actions causes me to shake again. Any self-respect I had for myself disappears along with my dignity.
I’m a whore, a slut, whatever you want to call it. I say the names to myself, my head screaming on repeat. My behavior is beyond disgusting, and now I have to pay the ultimate price.
“Nikki… I don’t know.”
“Oh, Charlie, it’ll be okay. Look at Will. Rocky and I couldn’t have been in a worse situation, but we made it work and look at him. My life doesn’t exist without him.”
“But you had Rocky.”
“Yes, I know,” she admits. “But why on earth would the father not want to be part of his baby’s life? Either way, you’ve got two great men, and both will make great fathers.”
“Because it’s all too complicated. Nikki, I can’t do this… I can’t be a single mom and have to look at this child every day and see the face of its father. I don’t understand how this happened.”
It isn’t a question because no matter how it’s answered, it won’t erase anything.
“Well, sweetie, it’s quite simple… you got caught up in the hot sex and forgot about Mr. Semen and his million buddies.”
“Nikki, I married him.”
“What?” She raises her voice, her eyes wide in shock.
“That last night in The Hamptons, we got married. Don’t ask me how he pulled it off. I still don’t know, but it happened. He kept asking me to marry him, and he took me to this house. Outside in the gazebo, the man, he performed the ceremony.”
“Are you fucking with me? You married Lex? You’re Mrs. Edwards?”
“Please don’t tell anyone. I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”
“So, you are married to Lex, and this may be Julian’s baby? My God, Charlie, it’s like The Young and the Restless.” She shakes her head while muttering something to herself.
I don’t know how long I sit there, numb, unable to process how fucking foolish I feel for being caught up in all this. I don’t cry, not one single tear has been shed since my breakdown in the drug store. Maybe I should have, I wanted to, but I couldn’t. I’m unable to feel the pain now like I have some sort of shield. Staring blankly at the tests, it feels like hours later when I speak again. “Nikki, you need to get back to Will.”
It’s all I can think of. She has a family who needs her—her son needs her, her husband needs her. Family. Why does that word frighten me to the core?
“Charlie,” she says softly, moving a loose strand of hair away from my face and tucking it behind my ear. “They’re fine. Do you want me to make you something to eat?”
I laugh out loud, very loud, unable to stop, hysteria finally taking over—the tears of laughter roll down my face. Nikki can’t cook to save her life—the irony isn’t lost on me even in the state I’m in. She laughs along with me, and minutes later, we both sit there trying to catch our breath.
“Okay, so can I order you something to eat? Charlie, you need to eat, whether you like it or not, it’s not just you that you need to take care of now.”
Sure, I know that.
The memories come flooding back to me, the pain now overwhelming as the tears leaving my eyes are tears of sadness. I can’t stop sobbing uncontrollably as the fear sets in. I can’t be a mother. I’m not able to carry this baby inside me nor do this all alone. Nikki holds onto me, and sometime during the night, I fall asleep curled up in a ball on the bathroom floor.
I wake the next morning on the floor, a pillow under my head, and my grandmother’s knitted blanket covering me. I sit up, quickly searching the room, but it’s empty. Wait, did I dream all this? My body aches as I take in my surroundings. I had slept on the bathroom floor which only means one thing, I’m really pregnant. I hear the click of Nikki’s heels on my floorboards. She’s dressed, ready for work, and must have gone home sometime during the night.
She hands me a mug. Thank God, I need coffee. Taking a sip, I scowl as the taste of tea lingers in my mouth.
“Don’t look at me that way. No more coffee for you.”
“Nikki, one cup won’t hurt.”
“No, it won’t, but you don’t know how to drink only one cup a day. Listen, I have the Henderson court meeting in an hour. Will you be okay? You know I wouldn’t leave, but I’ve been working on this case for months.”
“Of course, I understand. I’ll just get changed and see you in the office later.”
“Look, I’d rather you rest, but I get it. You need the distraction. Just promise me if you feel ill, you’ll go home right away? I’ll have my people watching you, so don’t try to be a hero today.”
I nod, silently. Nikki grabs her briefcase and makes her way to the door and turns around to face me.
“Charlie, you’ll always have us. Rocky, myself, and Will. We’re your family. Even when you have lost hope and think you’re walking through this pain alone, remember, we are here for you no matter what you decide.”
I smile, though it’s painfully forced. As she closes the door, I sink back onto the floor, my tears falling without my permission. The walls feel like they are closing in, the roof caving on top of me ready to bury me under its weight.
I have to find the strength just to get through this one day, and maybe tomorrow, I can start answering the questions I have been desperately pushing aside.
In a zombie-like-state, I shower and change into a simple pair of black dress pants, a white collared shirt, and my black boots. Unable to even think about hair or makeup, I place my hair into a bun and apply a small amount of foundation and mascara. I don’t want to raise any alarms with Eric, or anyone else for that matter, so I grab my lipstick to touch up the rest of my face. At least I look somewhat decent.
As I step into the office, I feel different. The confidence I usually carry with me is shattered. Instead, I carry this burden, this thing, this… I can’t even bring myself to say the word.
I take a deep breath and close my eyes. I have to do this. Do what? Carry on with work or raise this… again that word. I can feel everyone’s eyes on me like they all know. In a self-conscious move, I scan my stomach. Impossible, I’m only, what, a few weeks along? Fuck, I don’t even know. I will have to get ultrasounds, hear the heartbeat.
No, not now, not here at work.
“Charlie, you’re back! Do I have stuff to tell you…” Eric glances around the room, then grabs onto my arm, ushering me into my office. I place my purse down and sit in my chair.
This chair feels like home, the comfy plush leather gives me a sense of power, and I love it. Well, I used to love it. Now flashes of Lex sitting on this chair plague me. The way he takes over, the way he demands me. I close my eyes for a brief moment while memories torture me every second I continue to breathe.
“Charlie, hey, girlfriend,” he calls, snapping his fingers in front of me.
“Sorry, E… okay, so what have you got for me?” I focus on Eric because if anyone can make me feel normal for a split second, it’s him.
“Are you okay? I mean despite, you know… and having this bug which, by the way, don’t pass it on to me. I have a hot date with that Latino guy who works out at my gym.”
“Wait. What happened to that other guy?”
“Long story, but the short version is I caught him getting blown by the busboy at La Rouges last week.”
“I’m so sorry.” I frown, letting out a sigh. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Girl, you got your own worries.”
“Sorry, I’ve been a really shitty friend.”
“Yes, but it’s justifiable, sweet cheeks. Anyway, so guess what?” He claps excitedly, again.
“What?”
“Emma fucked Tate last night in the parking garage downstairs.”
“No way!” The pitch of my voice is so high, it even startles me.
That’s the last thing I expected to come out of Eric’s mouth. I know Tate sleeps around, but as long as it was outside the office, I never asked him about his personal life. Despite Eric’s gossip mouth, I pray this union of theirs won’t affect our office and ability to work together as a team.
“Yep, I swear. She didn’t tell me, but you know how I get my brows waxed with Lyle down on six? Well, he saw them and texted me last night.”
“Let’s call her in.”
I smirk, dialing her number. She picks up immediately, and I ask her to join us in my office to discuss a brief.
Moments later, she walks in, and I’m not surprised when I see she is dressed differently from her usual attire. Without a doubt, she’s gone the extra effort to spice up her usually tame wardrobe. She’s wearing this thin, black pencil skirt which hugs her body in all the right places. Her blouse is a chiffon cream color and slightly unbuttoned, and her pumps are new, in fact slightly higher than she normally wears. Oh, she is so trying to impress. This will be fun—interrogation is my specialty. I am a lawyer, after all.
“Morning, Emma. You look awfully nice today. Special occasion?”
“I, uh… um… thanks, Charlie. How are you feeling?”
“Better. Thank you for asking. So, the Jensen case. I hear you and Tate have been making good progress. Ahead of schedule, I see?”
“Yeah, we’ve put in a lot of hours as we’re close to closing this one.”
“So, I see. And Tate hasn’t been working you too hard? You know, pushing you beyond your limits?”
She coughs as I say it, her face turning bright red while she stares down at the floor shuffling her feet awkwardly. “No, um… not at all. He’s been quite attentive to my, um… needs.”
The silence falls across the room as we wait for which one of us will cave. I know Eric won’t last long, and that’s why I love him. He has no filter, and during times like this, his normally annoying trait is a godsend.
“So, when you say attentive to your needs, do you mean the way he shot his cannonball into your love purse on that red Mercedes downstairs in the parking lot?” Eric asks in a serious tone.
“Eric.” I laugh uncontrollably.
“OMG, Eric, how do you know that?” Emma panics.
“Lyle saw you, and don’t worry, he won’t say anything because I offered to pay for his next five brow appointments. You owe me big time, girl. Now spill the juice.”
And so, she tells us the story of how last night unfolded, how for months there has been this awkward tension between them, but nothing came of it. Last night they were working late, and he offered her a ride home. Before she knew it, they were getting it on in the parking garage.
“And how was it?” I had to ask, desperate for any distraction, including Emma’s forbidden love affair.
She closes her eyes for a second. “It was… I don’t know what to say… like, amazing doesn’t cover it.”
“Emma, are you in love with him?”
“Oh no, nothing like that. It’s just that I’ve never been with a real man, you know? I mean he’s thirty-one, and I’m twenty-two. The guys my age can’t find a G-spot if you handed them a GPS and a tour guide.”
We burst out laughing. I can’t argue with her. Eric, of course, is in a league of his own and had to throw the question out there that was burning a hole in his pants.
“And… you know… did his goods match up to his feisty personality?”
“Let’s just say it matched and then some.”
Eric and I look at each other and happy-clap like old times. It’s this that I miss, this carefree chit- chat. For a moment, I feel safe, but it soon disappears as I look down and stare at my flat stomach, soon to be a daily reminder of the mess I’ve gotten myself into.
I spend my lunch hour working through the mountain of emails that have piled up. My stomach hurts, but it’s an unusual pain, something I’m not accustomed to. I ask Eric to grab me a sandwich, maybe I’m just hungry. As I wait for him to return, I continue to drink water to pass the time while my queasy stomach churns.
Rocking back and forth in my chair, the room begins to feel stifling hot. Placing my hand against my forehead, my skin is on fire. Removing my blazer, I fan myself to cool my body temperature down.
I must be dehydrated. That’s it. With a desperate need for cold water, I walk out of my office to be greeted by Eric. He looks hazy, but I realize it’s not him, it’s me.
The room starts to move, and I clasp at my chest while struggling to breathe. Eric’s voice echoes in the background, his panicked words making no sense.
Around me, I see shadows, but the spinning only blurs my vision until all I see is darkness.
