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A hand comes to Kaden’s face so quickly that he nearly slaps himself. He then begins to laugh maniacally, his mouth wide. The sound is more absurd than funny.
“Jesus Christ, Amber, what have I done to deserve this?” He rises from the couch and slams his drink down on the table. It splashes everywhere, but he pays no mind.
“I can’t keep going on like this. When are you going to be ready to talk to me?”
I shake my head back and forth, tears streaming down my face in hot rushes. He places his hands on his hips and gazes down at his feet. Then he makes his final statement of the night.
“You know what, Amber? I think it’s time for this marriage to come to an end. This isn’t working.”
His words are like a guillotine to my heart. I break out into hysterical weeping, my face falling into my hands. I then start to shake, realizing that isn’t some nightmare I have found myself in.
“Okay, Kaden,” I say through a waterfall of tears. “If that is what you want.” What else could I do? The end seems inevitable by now, one way or another. It is strangely preferable to be dismissed as a hysterical, nagging, difficult woman. Better than to be the woman who tricked him into a baby.
Isn’t it? I tell myself it has to be. One is seen as merely annoying, the other is cruel and calculated. One of these women will be dismissed, but the other would be ruined.
I hear him scoff, then I listen to his rapidly moving footsteps. He goes to the door, takes his jacket and slams it loudly behind him.
It makes me jump, and the tears suddenly stop. I feel like I have cried enough for a thousand lifetimes. The sadness continues, but my eyes have run dry.
I stand up from the couch and run toward the front window. I push back the curtains and see him get into his car, starting the engine frantically. He then zips out of the driveway with lightning speed, disappearing into the darkness.
I lean my head against the glass, questioning what I have just done. Would he really have hated hearing the news about the pregnancy that much? Would the result have been the same? Or, like I fear, would it have been worse?
My limbs suddenly get weak, and my vision narrows. I have only fainted a few times in my life, mostly from physical accidents but never from stress or any ailment. Nausea arrives at the same time, so I decide to book it to the bathroom on the main floor.
I push the door open and search for the light. When I can’t find it in time, I hurl myself toward the porcelain throne instead.
I heave, but nothing emerges. I try to breathe in and out slowly, trying to keep myself from passing out. When it works, I slide my body to the floor, staring up into the inky dark room.
What is going to become of me, or us, now? Acid rises in my gullet, but I know that nothing will come. The morning, afternoon, whatever sickness, it is going to stop soon. And then I will start to show. Am I going to have to do this all on my own?
I lie there for an unforeseen amount of time, thinking about my mother, my father, all the people who wanted more for me. I think about Kaden driving enraged, wondering what is swirling along in my mind.
That is when it hits me, with certainty for the first time. I know what I want. I want to have a child. I want to have a family.
Whether Kaden wants to be involved in that shouldn’t matter. Finally, now that I know what I want for myself, everything else starts to seem a little clearer.
38
AMBER
Ilay around the house listlessly. I do not want to go to sleep that night, often sobbing and wishing Kaden would come home. I don’t want him to leave, and I don’t want to lose him. I have never felt so confused and so confusing, trapped in a situation I simply can find no way to dig myself out of.
Grief stricken as I am, I find myself worrying about the baby, as well. I recall one of the pamphlets the doctor had given me, a certain text jumping to mind.
Remember to stay as stress-free as possible. Do what you can to ease and reduce stress levels. High levels of stress can affect brain development, and can even cause certain problems years later, in childhood.
So, I wipe my face, collect myself the best I can and head to bed. I put my pajamas on and climb under our soft comforter. As soon as I’m tucked in, I instantly feel sad again. Our bed isn’t the same without him in it, and I can’t sleep without his warmth pressing against me.
I take deep breaths, trying to relax as much as possible. It isn’t easy, given the situation. But I know obsessing will not help the baby.
I don’t remember falling asleep, but suddenly I’m waking up to the sun shining through the windows and warming my face. As the room focuses, I remember last night’s events. I quickly roll over, looking for Kaden.
But my heart drops when I roll over to find an empty bed. His pillow hasn’t been laid on, and his side of the comforters is still flat.
I start sobbing again. I can’t help it. Deep down, I will always secretly wish we could have raised this child together. Every time I am reminded that this simply isn’t something he signed up for, it breaks my heart a little more.
Maybe in time, I will learn how to feel angry. It isn’t what I signed up for, either. But I am figuring out how to make it work, with or without him. Right now, however, all I can feel is sad.
