Page 112 of For the Love of Art

“God, no!” I shook my head furiously. “No, there’s so much more to my divorce than I’ve shared with anyone.”

I searched Frankie’s features, waiting for him to react, but he sat stone-faced.

“The truth is, my marriage falling apart–” Fresh tears fell down my cheeks. Frankie reached across the table and took my hand, squeezing it. “Frankie, it’s all my fault. I’m the reason for the divorce.”

Frankie shook his head. “That can’t be true. You’re divorcing because he got that Marissa woman pregnant. Last I checked, you don’t have a dick or semen.”

I let out a small, airy laugh before sniffling. “True.” I took a deep breath. “You met Lianne when you both worked that corporate job that sucked the life out of you guys. That was right around when I was quitting the last gallery I worked at.”

Frankie nodded. “I remember. You said that you were planning on getting pregnant.”

“Being a father was all Don ever wanted.”

Frankie continued to nod, clearly remembering this time in my life. While I was sad to be leaving the art world, I was also excited for the next phase in my life, at least I thought I was.

“You also know that I struggled to stay pregnant.”

Frankie’s brows crossed. “I remember a few miscarriages.”

“There were a lot more than I shared. I stopped telling you guys because I started to feel like my emotions were annoying.”

Frankie looked a little hurt. “Did we make you feel like that?”

I shook my head. “No. You and Lianne were amazing. It was me. I felt like a broken record.” I shook my head. “I felt broken in general. We went to a doctor, and I learned that my uterus isn’t a hospitable environment for a baby. I mean, fuck. What was I supposed to do with that? A woman is supposed to be able to get pregnant and carry a baby to term.” A fresh set of tears rolled down my cheeks. “We were told we could keep trying, but it was a very low chance that I would ever make it to term. We kept going for a few months, but after I had another miscarriage that ended in me losing a lot of blood, I decided I couldn’t keep going. I settled on the fact that I would never bear children. Don was so hurt, but he agreed to stop trying.”

Frankie took a deep breath as he took everything in.

“There’s more,” I said before he could speak. “As Don and I moved forward in our childless life, I thought we were happy. Things felt good, you know? We talked more, spent more time together, and went back to enjoying having sex instead of it being all about making babies. It was a blissful time that lasted just over a year. Then, at his corporate Christmas Party, he met her– Marissa. She was his boss’ daughter. She was going to start working at the company.

“Five months after the party, Don asked me how I felt about surrogacy. He had this whole plan laid out, and I felt confused because we had never talked about it, but it seemed like he had for a while. He had a whole presentation, and then he mentioned that Marissa offered to be a surrogate.”

Frankie gasped. “Oh fuck! So, he did talk to someone! Her!”

I nodded. “Yeah. That was when I started to piece together Don had been coming home late for a few months, more days than not. I hadn’t worried because I knew he was eyeing a promotion, and I had–”

“Started working at the cheese shop,” Frankie finished the sentence.

I nodded. “I figured he’d been so used to me being home when he got home that he didn’t like the idea of the house being empty.

“Anyway, I thought on it for a long time. Probably too long. I finally agreed to do the appointments and just learn what it would entail. Once I had all the information, Don and I talked again. I could see how hopeful he was. He felt like this was his last chance to be a dad, and even though in my bones I didn’t want to do it, I said yes.”

Frankie squeezed my hand tighter as my bottom lip quivered. “You can take a break if you need to.”

I shook my head. “I need to finish. I’ve been holding this in for so long.” I let go of Frankie’s hand and wiped at my face. It was useless. For every tear I wiped away, ten more fell.

I took a shuddering breath before I continued, “For weeks leading up to the appointment, I felt sick. I’d said yes because I could feel Don slipping away, and I couldn’t let go of my marriage. I felt like a failure thinking of being a divorcee in my 30s. Then, on the day of the appointment, I couldn’t go through with it. I didn’t know if I could recover from one more loss. I couldn’t even risk it.

“Don was devastated. I knew our marriage was over before I even heard about the affair because I broke it. We weren’t going in the same direction anymore, and I lied to him pretending we were.”

“Isla–”

“And now it’s going to break Nathan and I.”

Frankie looked confused. “How?”

“This weekend, Nathan told me he wants kids with me. I can’t give him that. I can’t go through that again, Frankie. I can’t!” I buried my face in my hands, sobbing.

“Isla. Boo.” Frankie moved my hands from my face so he could look at me.