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I swallow, hesitating before whispering, “I’m pregnant.”
When I read the stick the first time, back eight months ago, I thought it was the best day of my life. I thought it would change everything. I got on a plane the next day. I faced my anxiety to get to my husband as fast as possible, but then my world fell apart. One thing after another.
But right there in the middle of the storm stood a shelter.
Its walls were stronger than anything I have ever seen. But yet the amount of love inside was unimaginable. It was breathtaking. It kept me alive.
Itkeepsme alive. It gives me purpose and gives me a reason to keep fighting and never, ever give up. Because sometimes, when the storm grows too strong, and you find yourself standing in the middle of it alone, you can’t help but get sucked right into it, and you don’t always come back from that.
The biggest smile I have ever seen lights up his face. “I saw the stick. That day. I found it. But I didn’t know. I had no idea what two lines meant. I didn’t want to know until I could have you there to find out… Marry me.”
Everything he said washes over me in slow motion. “I—”
He shakes his head as his hand moves to the back of my neck, pulling my face closer so we are nose to nose. “Marry me. I’m not asking. We start a new life. Together, here with all these people who mean the world to us. We become a family. You are already mine. My ol’ lady. My woman. But I want you in every single way I can get you. Be my wife.”
I try to pull back and drop my gaze, not feeling strong enough to look him in the eyes as I tell him he doesn’t want me. The grip on the back of my neck tightens as his other hand grabs my chin and forces my eyes up.
“Don’t. You are so fucking strong. You will be the best mother there is. This baby will be so fucking lucky to have you. You are not alone anymore. There will be no more danger after today. I wanted to stretch out his pain for days. Weeks, even. But I won’t. I will go down there when we are done and put a bullet between his eyes because he is our past. He is your past.”
“I don’t know how to let go,” I cry.
“Then we get you help. Therapy is always an option. We can work out a story that is as close to the truth as possible that you can tell the therapist so you aren’t having her call the cops on us, but you can still get the help you need about everything you’ve gone through.”
“What? You…” I clear my throat. “Therapy? You’re okay with me going to therapy? And people knowing about it?”
His eyes flash with anger. “Fuck yes, I am. Angel, there is absolutely nothing wrong with getting help. If anything, going in there, in a dingy office with a stranger staring you down asking you questions, is a testament to your strength. It takes a brave person to face their demons. To face their past. To open up all those old wounds and work through them piece by piece. I can’t even begin to imagine how hard that is, and there is no way I could do it. So if you want to, every single person in this club will back you up. Whatever you need from me, from them, we’re here for you.”
“Thank you.” I kiss him as tears stream down my cheeks, making our kiss taste salty. “Thank you. I love you so much,” I sob into his chest as he holds onto me, whispering that he has me and will never let go.
To hear the words that I didn’t even know I needed is like an immense weight lifted off my chest. I have so much work to do to get past everything that has happened. To be able to love and enjoy this pregnancy without guilt about the baby I lost.
To just not feel guilty about everything that has happened. To know that Jackson is okay with me seeking out help, not making me do this alone… it makes me fall even more in love with him.
“Presley?” Jackson questions as my tears slowly subside.
I sit up from where I was tucked under his head and look at him.
“I owe you an apology. But hearing I’m sorry for how I acted the other day isn’t going to change the damage it did. So whatever you need from me, name it. You want to drag me to therapy with you and make me talk it out? I can’t promise not to be very much annoyed about it, but I will do it for you. There are no excuses for how I acted. I let my anger at the situation and at you being a trusting person get the best of me.”
He sighs and pulls me closer, locking eyes with me.
“I also need you to hear me when I say that everything that happened to you in no way whatsoever is on you. Angel, you did nothing wrong. Ben did. I know when I called you naïve the other day, it hurt you. I saw your face the second the words left my mouth. How they aligned with all the negative thoughts in your head. But it isn’t true. And I will spend every day for the rest of our lives reminding you it isn’t true. But whatever you need from me to make that better, you tell me. Want me to get on my knees and beg? I will.”
“I forgive you, Jackson,” I whisper.
“No, you don’t. You shouldn’t. You can love me and be mad at me for what I said. Maybe therapy will help you with that thought process.”
“Okay.” I don’t say more because I don’t know what to say.
I do forgive him. I don’t hold it against him. But I also know I am a very forgiving person. And was he wrong?
I shake my head and sigh, “Will you help me find a therapist as soon as possible?”
“Of course I will.”
After we get out and get dressed, the tension that finally faded while we took time together in the tub is back. I told him I want to be there when he kills Ben. I need to be. I can’t do it myself. There is no way I could. So I need to be there to see. I have to watch it happen and finally get the closure I’ve been needing to move forward.
“You don’t have to do this,” Jackson says as he walks up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist.
