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“I know. I’m asking why she hasn’t visited, because according to her, you two are getting married this coming weekend.”
He diverts his attention back to his cell, removing it again from his pocket. He doesn’t say anything for a while and I’m left wondering what the hell happened. The last thing I want is another argument, and just as I’m about to drop it altogether, he says, “The wedding has been postponed for another month. She didn’t think we should go ahead with it yet, given the added stress right now.”
“What stress? You’re not lying in a hospital bed with stitches,” I remind him.
“I mean for her.”
“Right. It’s always about Eloise,” I mumble, resenting him for thinking about her well-being over mine.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that you still never denied what she told me the day my water broke. Is it true you want joint custody? Is it true you’re trying to have a baby with her?” I question, raising the pitch of my voice as I plead for answers.
Standing up, he moves towards the window and glances outside, his back towards me. He is still dressed in his grey pants and a white shirt, abandoning his tie as he does every night.
In front of the window, his body stands tall, and for a moment I wonder what it’s like to lean my head against his back and wrap my arms around him. I snap back to reality as soon as he opens his mouth.
“It’s true about the joint custody. I’m scared, okay? I have no idea what to expect. I don’t want to be a dad that visits his kid every other weekend. I want to see him every day,” he stammers, unable to control the emotion behind his admission.
“And the baby stuff? About you trying?”
“I was drunk and off my face on some shit Marcus gave me. I would have told the homeless guy around the corner I wanted to have babies with him.”
This changed everything, but it shouldn’t have. He provided an explanation to the questions that have haunted me ever since my lunch with Eloise. But the big question, the one still yet to be answered properly, is why is he still marrying her? I’m in the mood to ask again, and frankly, I’m sick and tired of lying in this bed. I miss my real bed. I miss being a normal, functioning human that can shower without the assistance of a nurse. And most of all, I miss everything about the former Presley who had her whole life planned out.
“I’m tired,” I yawn, turning my back to him.
“I should probably go.”
I cover the rest of myself with a blanket and nestle my head into the pillow. With Masen fast asleep, I’m hoping to catch a few extra hours of sleep tonight myself.
Haden walks over to Masen and kisses him gently on the forehead. With a placid smile, he walks around the bed, ready to leave the room, but just before he does, I blurt out to him, “You can see Masen every day, I promise you that. We’ll make this work, Haden.”
He stops just shy of the door and turns back to face me. Not saying a word, his lips curve upwards and he gives me the most genuinely heartfelt smile. The Haden smile that always melts my insides, triggering those butterflies to spread their wings and flutter in delight. I smile in return, and without any more words left to say, our actions speak the loudest.
It’s the biggest commitment we can make, the commitment to raise our child together.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Motherhood.
There is no amount of textbooks and advice that can prepare you for it. And those damn diaper commercials . . . yeah, what a load of crap. Guess what? A baby cries. Nonstop and for no apparent reason. I have a mental checklist. Hungry, wet, gassy . . . but when I’ve ticked it all off, what then?
We were forced to stay in the hospital for a couple more days, just as a precaution. This was not the news I wanted to hear, and it made me sob like a baby. The nurse said it was normal to feel emotional after giving birth due to my hormones being all over the place. Argh! I was so sick of these damn hormones and crying at the drop of a hat.
My parents returned for another week before Dad had to go back to work. It was great having them around, but sometimes my mom would drive me insane. Every time someone walked through the door, she would make them sanitize their hands. Yeah, I’m all for a germ-free en
vironment (trust me), but she was over the top. She also drove the young nurses insane, talking about the way hospitals were back in her day. I think they were glad to see me go just so they wouldn’t have to deal with her ever again.
Haden continued with his visits, but still no Eloise. Apparently, she had been struck with the flu and didn’t want the baby to catch it. Fair enough. I wasn’t going to pry further, but we both knew that was a load of shit.
The day that the doctors gave the all clear, I was beyond ecstatic to finally leave the hospital. Haden hired some car with an extra special car seat fitted by some expert (talk about paranoia), but I let him do whatever would keep him happy, considering the stress he was under. It was evident, and he had dropped a lot of weight, not to mention that ridiculous beard making a comeback. Every time I asked him if he was okay, he would grunt and walk away.
Settling at home with Masen is harder than I thought it’d be. During the day he sleeps like an angel, but at night . . . boy does he have a set of lungs on him! It wasn’t until the end of the first week that I established a routine and got him to settle down for a couple of hours at night. Kate is a godsend, and even though I feel like I’m imposing on her personal space, she’s always quick to shut me down.
“For the millionth time . . . I love having you here! Do you know what I would be doing right now if you weren’t here? Buying some sort of wonder mop from an infomercial I got stuck watching while shoving spoons of ice cream in my mouth.”
“But I feel bad. You can’t exactly bring somebody home to a crying baby.”
