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If I didn't trust the choices I wanted to make for myself, how was I supposed to know what choices I wanted to make for Claire? Never in my life had I left Claire behind for anything. But as I boarded the first bus that arrived, with no destination in mind, the sadness building inside my chest stemmed more from guilt than loss.
I wasn't capable of being there for Claire. Not right now. Not like this. As a mother, I was supposed to be selfless, I was supposed to think about what was best for her first, not for me.
And for once in my life, I had to admit that I wasn't doing that. I was thinking only for myself. Because the better option, the selfless option, wouldn't be taking Claire away from her father. It would be allowing him to become integrated in her life.
I had been about to do the same thing with Lucas that I had done with Adam.
Adam had done nothing but been there for me and Claire when I had literally no one else. And what had I done? The instant Adam had criticized me for my lifestyle—my job as a hacker, a judgement that had been more than valid considering the circumstances—I cut him out of my life.
And in doing so, I'd also cut him out of Claire's life.
I'd cut out his help, his friendship to Claire, his love. He'd not only been her babysitter, but also her uncle and her best friend. All because my pride had been too heavy of a weight to bear.
Up until today, I would have defended that decision to the death, but because of Lucas's words, my blinders had finally been removed. I'd made a choice with Adam, acted in selfish ways that had negatively affected my daughter. And I'd been about to do the same with Lucas, if he hadn't cut me off.
After the chaos at the press conference, I knew I needed to run, to start over, to figure out how to set my head on straight, but it didn't mean Claire had to come with me. Leaving Claire with my brother and her father was the best thing I could have done for my daughter.
It was with that thought that I boarded the bus, took a row in the back, stuffed my backpack at my feet, and pulled my sweatshirt over my head.
My eyes closed, and I was asleep before the engine had even started.
One monthlater
I woke to the sound of the tide lapping at the deck behind the in-law-suite. As I crawled out of bed, I slumped to the bathroom, grabbing the pregnancy test as I went.
The results were the same as the last three I’d taken this past week. I tossed it onto the pile in the trash, with the rest of the positive tests, and pressed my face to my hands.
A spiral of thoughts started pulling me down, and I washed my hands. Staring at myself in the mirror, I resisted the urge to touch my stomach. Ten years had passed, but wasn’t I right back where I’d started?
Pregnant with Lucas’s baby again and all alone.
Was I doomed to repeat this cycle for the rest of my life?
What would this mean for Claire? I felt like I’d just gotten into a good groove as her mother. Would this destroy that?
Opening the sliding glass door of the studio apartment, I stepped out into the chilly November morning, a mist hanging over the crisp Connecticut shoreline.
It was Sunday, my one day off from the restaurant I'd worked at for the last month. My days outside work were the most difficult. With no distraction and nothing to keep me busy, the thoughts I tried to avoid kept creeping into the empty space in my mind, taking me to a place I didn't like.
But the thoughts didn't bother me as much as the feelings that came with them. I couldn't even identify the thoughts if I'd tried. It was more just an overwhelming sensation of guilt, shame. Mainly just sadness.
It was those feelings that had led me to spend my days off walking to the playground at the end of the small neighborhood I'd been living in. And of course, seeing the children play only made me think of Claire.
I lasted two hours on my first Sunday off before I made the call to Adam.
And now, four Sundays later, he'd come to expect my call.
Sitting on the bench in the back of the playground, I dialed his number, and he picked up on the first ring.
"Hey," he said.
I hesitated, taking a deep breath. Every part of me wanted to tell him about baby number two. I hadn’t spoken those words out loud yet, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.
"Hi."
"How are you?" The background noise sounded different than usual, and I immediately picked up on the sounds of a wind gust, of laughter.
Before I answered his question, I asked my own. "Where are you?"
