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I exhale deeply before continuing, “It’s one thing when a woman decides not to have kids. But when that choice is stripped away from you because your body fails you, it’s devastating. I was robbed and had zero control over my body. I’ve never cried so much in my life.” Tears trickle from my eyes. The memory is raw, even after all this time. I pull my glasses off and lay them on his desk, shifting my eyes to avoid his.
“Jesus, Lena,” he mutters, running his hands through his hair, sighing, pity snaking its way into his words. Pity that I don’t want him to feel. It’s not why I’m here.
“All I could think about was you, how you always wanted kids, a family, to be a father. I was gonna crush that. You would never have the family you wanted had I stayed. You would have resented me. I would have resented myself, knowing that I had taken that away from you. I couldn’t do that to you, couldn’t live with that resentment for the rest of our lives. It would’ve destroyed us.”
“Lena,” he says, sliding forward in his chair, getting closer to me. “Why would you ever think that?”
“Please, I’m not done.”
He lifts his chin, a nod to signal I should continue.
“Remember the boyfriend I had when we met—Stefano?”
The corner of Massimo’s lip lifts in a sneer, and he nods yes.
“We had been together for almost a year. We were out to dinner one night, having a conversation about our relationship and where it was headed. As usual, I was nervous to talk to him about something important but decided to tell him about my PCOS and what the doctor had told me—that getting pregnant would be difficult. Instead of discussing it or understanding, he was furious with me and said some really hurtful things. He screamed and insulted. Told me I’d probably done something in my life to deserve that kind of karma. Said he’d wasted his time because he wanted a family and what was the point of being in a relationship with someone who was broken.”
As he listens to me, Massimo’s nostrils flare, his teeth clench, his jaw hardens. “That guy was always a douchebag.”
“Stefano stormed out of the restaurant, left me at the table after I had opened up to him. Tears streamed down my face, and I was embarrassed at the scene he’d made, by how he had humiliated me in front of the entire restaurant. I tried to fix things with him. Called him, went to his work, but he wanted nothing to do with me. He wouldn’t even look at me. His reaction to my confession confirmed what I felt—broken. Looking back, I was an idiot! I saw the signs and ignored them all. And to make matters worse, I even tried fixing things with him. It wasn’t until much later that I realized how awful he was to me and that I deserved better.”
My friends always tried to warn me about Stefano. I never listened; I wanted to believe they were all wrong. Sometimes, you don’t see what’s right in front of you and only realize what’s really happening by taking a step back and removing the horse blinders. After Stefano humiliated me and would no longer talk to me, I started thinking back at all the things that had occurred throughout our relationship. The more I thought about it, the clearer it all became. In retrospect, he never respected me, and in turn, I never respected myself.
“Lena—”
“Please let me finish.” I rub my fingers together to ease the nervous clenches twisting inside of me. Massimo appeases me and remains quiet, but I can see his thoughts churning, his gaze scrutinizing me.
“Because of what happened with Stefano, I was jaded. It caused me to lock up my secret and not tell anyone, not even you,” I whisper, reaching my hand across the desk in search of Massimo’s. “I’m sorry I let him poison our relationship. I should’ve known better. I should’ve been stronger.”
Massimo covers my hands with his, his eyes burning with betrayal and sadness.
I exhale and flip our hands, letting my fingers curl around his. “A few months before I left, we went to my friend David’s house to celebrate him and his wife adopting a little boy, remember?”
“Yes.”
“On our drive home, we argued.”
Ten Years Ago
“That was a nice celebration to welcome home their new son. He’s such a cutie,” I say, as Massimo makes a right onto Main Street. David and Brenda live in Woburn, and they had a “Welcome Home” celebration because they adopted a four-year-old boy last month and were ready to celebrate now that he was settled in.
“Yeah, I guess so,” Massimo mumbles.
“Uhh, okay. Why do you say it like that?”
“Why did they adopt that kid?”
I shift in my seat and stare at him. His tone is annoying me. “What kind of question is that? They adopted him because he needed a home and because she can’t get pregnant.”
“I don’t know. Adoption is not something I can get into. Raising a kid that isn’t mine? Nah, not for me.”
“You would never adopt a child?”
“No. I’ve told you that before.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want someone else’s kid! Now, I don’t want to talk about this anymore because it’s not us. End of conversation!” I jump when he raises his voice.
