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Theevidenceisirrefutable,according to my lawyer. They have eyewitnesses, plus the texts I sent to Heather’s phone.
Mentally unstable.
That’s what they’re saying. That’s what’s keeping me from my wife and son. My life.
The only thing on my side is Jaz didn’t die.Unfortunately.
The stupid bitch. If not for her, I’d have everything right now. But like always, she had to interfere where she doesn’t belong.
Now, I’m looking at three to fifteen years in prison. Since they have proven a pattern of violence against Heather.
“Mail, Black,” the guard says, slipping a manilla envelope through the bars of my cell.
Rising from my shitty bed, I take the envelope and see it’s from Heather’s lawyer. My rage spikes, but I tamp it down. Bottling it up for when I get out.That’s when I’ll exact my revenge. That’s when they’ll all pay.
Prying it open, I pull the legal documents out of their confines, and find the final divorce papers.
My coping techniques don’t help with this new rage.I’m no longer married. Heather is no longer bound to me. Only through our son.
Setting the papers down on my bed, very carefully lining up the edges, making sure it’s perpendicular to the edges of the flimsy mattress, I turn my back on them, and face the concrete wall.
With my palms flat on the cold, rough surface, I pull back and slam my head into the wall. Over and over again, until the guards come and restrain me. The pain is minimal compared to what I’m experiencing inside.
I’m not mad. I’m not. I’m furious.
24 Beautiful Mama
Infinity by Jaymes Young Jonas
WaitingwithHeatherather first prenatal appointment, my leg keeps bouncing, like one of those bouncy balls you get from a kid's vending machine.
She’s sitting there, casually flipping through one of the lobby magazines, like this isn’t a life-changing event. Granted, she’s done this before, but it’s still a big deal. It’s a new life being created.
“You winning that race?” She asks me, peering at me from the side of her eye.
“Huh?” I ask, not understanding.
Her elegant hand rests on my jumping knee, and I stop bouncing it.Oh. That.
“Everything is going to be fine,” her soft words are meant to reassure me.
“How can you be so calm? What if something is wrong?” I can’t keep the worst-case scenarios from running through my head.
“Is worrying going to change it, if there is?” She uses logic on me. I know this, still, I can’t help but worry. “The way I see it, ‘what will be will be’. I have enough to worry about. I am doing everything I can to make sure this baby will be healthy. That’s all I can do, and worrying isn’t going to change anything. In fact, it might make things worse.”
When she puts it that way, the ragged edges of my anxiety smooth out a bit. It doesn’t go away completely, but it diminished significantly.
“Heather,” one of the staff calls her name.
Heather puts the magazine back on the side table and gets up, extending her hand my way. I take it and stand up, letting her go ahead of me. With each step, a sense of calm settles in me, and somehow, I know no matter what, we’ll be okay. We’ll have each other, and that’s the most important thing to me.
***
Heather lays back on the reclined exam table in the darkened room, and the ultrasound tech squirts gel on her lower abdomen. Then she spreads it around with the imaging wand. My heart is thundering in my chest. The tech moves it around in little circles until the staccato flicker of a heartbeat shows up on the screen.
My hand finds Heather’s, and I look at her to see she’s already looking at me. Her smile is bright enough that it lights up my world. The tech presses a button, and the rapid thumping that matches the pulsating on the screen fills the room.
“See, I told you not to worry,” her soft voice carries over the thump of the baby's heartbeat.She’s right, of course.
