Page 40 of Breathe Me: Smith & Belle

As soon as he was gone, I turned and for one moment, Lola looked so much like her sister that I blurted out a confession, “She doesn’t like me.”

“Oh, Belle.” Lola stood, moving closer to me and stroking my arm. “That’s not true. She’s just uncomfortable.”

“Because of me,” I sobbed. “I can’t even pack a changing bag properly.”

“Let me,” Lola said, gently taking Penny from her arms. She was bright red from screaming, and being passed off only resulted in her skin deepening to purple as she howled louder. “See? She hates me, too!”

I forced myself to smile, even though the joke did nothing to soothe me. I couldn’t believe that I’d let my business partner see me this unglued. As far as I knew, Lola had no interest in kids. I’d rarely even seen her around her niece and nephew. Now, thanks to me, she was cajoling a pissed off newborn instead of sipping champagne.

“Here. This will help,” Tomas announced, placing a plate with a large, four-tiered slice of chocolate cake on the table. He waved me to the chair, passing me a cloth napkin. “Sit. Chocolate fixes everything.”

I dropped into the chair, dabbing my eyes with the napkin. With both their eyes on me, I picked up a fork and took a small bite before managing a brittle smile. I was supposed to be the caregiver here. I was the mum, but everyone was busy taking care of me while my baby cried.

Because I couldn’t calm her down.

Because I wasn’t meant to be a mother.

That was why I’d had the miscarriage. That’s why it had taken me a year to get pregnant again. It was why Smith hovered so much in the background when I had Penny. He could sense it. I’d felt his feelings toward me change since I gave birth. He could see right through me to the hollow, rotten core that was never meant to care for a child.

“Got them,” Nora called brightly, coming back into the restaurant. Two more diners entered behind her, looking startled at the scene they’d stumbled upon.

I stood and grabbed Penny, holding out my hand for the shop bag. “I’ve got it.”

“Do you want help?” Nora asked as she passed it to me.

“No, can you take my card out and pay? I don’t want to disturb everyone else’s lunch.” I managed to say this evenly even as my heart beat so fast I thought I was going to crack open.

Carrying Penny to the bathroom, I discovered that Nora had been right earlier. There was nowhere to change the baby but the floor. Sinking down gracelessly, and realizing that my days of leather pants were long over, I spread the changing pad on the floor, and began changing her. Her nappy was so full that I started to cry again with her. I’d done this to her. As soon as I’d cleaned her up, she calmed down, yawning widely, exhausted from what I’d put her through. Snapping up her romper, I cradled her close to my shoulder as I repacked the bag, shoving the nappies inside it along with the dirty one.

Standing, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror over the sink. I didn’t recognize the woman staring back at me. I needed a haircut. Despite doing my make-up earlier, bluish circles ringed my eyes—eyes so bloodshot that they nearly matched my lipstick. I looked like I’d walked out of a horror movie. The sleepy bundle at my shoulder nuzzled against me, and the stranger in the mirror cringed.

Except it wasn’t a stranger reflected there. It was me, and for the first time, I saw the truth as I held my little girl:

I wasn’t struggling. I wasn’t adjusting. I simply wasn’t.

Wasn’t meant to be a mother, wasn’t happy, wasn’t ready.

And, in that moment, I wished Penny had never been born.