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“Because she’s like your kid, even though she’s not a kid.”
“Yes.”
“Is she a replacement kid? Is that what this is?”
Irina flinches under the weight of my words. I’ve clearly torn off the scab from an old wound. I notice her stroking her belly and imagine her carrying another man’s kid. Where is he now? And the baby? What life is she hiding? I need her to tell me the truth, so I can prove nothing is a dealbreaker.
“I was eighteen when I got pregnant,” Irina explains, backing away and resting her sweet ass on my bed.
I wonder if she’s luring me closer, so our lust will distract from whatever pain she hides inside.
Exhaling softly, she continues, “I was a senior in high school. My family, well, the entire neighborhood was the stuffy kind of religious types. They got high off being sanctimonious. I wanted to be rebellious. I’d sneak out and party with my friends. I wanted to live life on my terms. But then, I got pregnant, and my bravado disappeared.”
Frowning, I think of my own mother with stars in her eyes over an older man’s promises.
“The guy was my high school fling. We both planned to go to different colleges. We were having fun. It wasn’t meant to stick.”
Irina sinks into herself, seeming smaller now. I sit next to her and take her hand. I’ve asked her to share painful memories to prove herself. I feel her wanting to shut down the conversation. When my thumb brushes across her soft knuckles, Irina allows a little smile.
“Steve’s parents bullied him into marrying me and raising the baby. He could only go to college with their help, so they gave him an ultimatum. I had my own big plans, but the pregnancy ended all of them. I’m still shocked by how quickly we buckled under their pressure. We could have stood our ground, but they guilted us until we were ready to spend our lives together and raise the baby.”
Irina wraps her arms around one of mine as if to comfort herself. I remember how as a kid I’d hug a big pillow in the basement and pretend it was my mom.
“What happened to Steve and the baby?”
Irina looks around the room, edgy now as the past crawls over her. When her gaze meets mine, I’m in awe at how beautiful this woman really is. She smiles softly at whatever she sees on my face.
“Steve wasn’t happy,” Irina continues. “He was always working or going to school. He’d come home and seem suffocated by our son. I had no pity for Steve. At least, he got to go out and follow his dreams. I was stuck at home, cleaning and cooking. His parents would show up some days around ten in the morning and linger all day. His mom nitpicked me until I felt like I couldn’t even breathe right. My parents were nearly as bad.”
“Did you get divorced?” I ask when she stops talking and watches me like I’m unbearably fascinating.
“That’s what I assumed was in our future. I was hoping he’d ditch me. I could return home, have my mom watch the baby while I went to school or got a job. A divorce would have been a godsend. Instead, I got pregnant again, even though I was on birth control pills.”
Frowning, I feel suffocated by the tension in the room. Without kicking off my boots, I rest on my side across the mattress. When Irina just stares at me, I gesture to her to do the same. We soon watch each other leisurely in the way we normally can’t because she’s on a time crunch.
After enjoying a lingering kiss, I ask, “What happened to your kids?”
Irina swallows hard, and I feel her steadying herself. When I was a kid about to face people who openly disliked me, I’d build myself up ahead of time. I see the same preparation on Irina’s face.
“I don’t let myself think about it. When I do remember, I pretend it was a bad dream.”
I wrap my fingers around her hand to reassure her. Irina’s smile digs into my heart, claiming it. I feel like a junkie getting his fix.
“We were returning from his friend’s holiday party. Owen was asleep in the back seat. I was seven months pregnant. Steve was in a bad mood. By then, he had gotten in the habit of yelling at me a lot. He would complain about the house, Owen’s clothes, my appearance. Steve was so unhappy that he was coming out of his skin. I tried approaching the subject of divorce before I got pregnant again. Oh, and he was angry about that, too. He claimed I was lying about taking the pill.”
Irina strokes her belly again as she watches me. “That night, Steve learned his friends were going on a guys’ weekend trip. None of them were married. They could afford to go. He claimed he was missing out on his best years. He said I was lazy and wanted to live off his hard work.”
“He sounds like an asshole.”
Irina gives me a tight smile. “He was. But mostly, we were young and weak. We bowed down to our parents’ wishes rather than living our lives. That night, he was so frustrated. Disappointed, too, by everything he was missing out on.”
Studying Irina, I see the young woman overwhelmed by life. I can picture her trapped in that car with that angry asshole. I wish I could go back there and save her from the pain I see awakening in her gaze.
“Steve yelled so much those last few months that Owen slept right through the rant that night. I was also ignoring Steve. I saw myself getting a little place for Owen and me. In my dream, Steve was dead. I had his life insurance and could start over with my babies.”
Irina’s lips press together as tears fill her eyes. I scoot closer and caress her soft cheek.
“I guess he lost control of the car on the ice,” she says in a weak voice. “Or maybe his rage blinded him. Sometimes, I think he did it on purpose. Either way, it happened so fast. One second, Steve was bitching about how I ruined his life. Then, I felt the car swerve hard before shuddering as he tried to regain control. I only had a few seconds to realize what was happening.”
