He parks, leans in and gives me a brief kiss. "I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"
I nod, empty. "Okay. Try to get some sleep, you need to rest."
I don't even open the door of my house when he's tearing the tires on the asphalt, the sound of him leaving tunneling through me.
For a long moment, I stand here, watching him disappear behind the corner, watching the faraway traffic light turn from green to orange, then red.
Then—enough.
I just had enough.
I pull my phone out and scroll until her name appears. Lisa.
Calling her feels like walking barefoot across glass, but I do it anyway because this is going to destroy Ben.
I pace along the waterfront calling her over and over, but she doesn't pick up, so I leave a text.
Me:Lisa, please let's talk. You, Ben and me. I understand you are upset. I am on your side. I want you and the baby to be safe. Please meet me so we can discuss what happens next.
An hour passes while I'm home.
Somewhere outside, someone laughs. I try not to take it personally.
I'm by my desk, deleting photos, old drafts. Drag. Trash. Confirm. Folders renamed so I can pretend I'm reorganizing when I'm really trying to kill time.
Then my phone buzzes on the table. Lisa's name pops up and my pulse skyrockets before I even open it.
When I do, there's a picture: The baby clothes I sent her. Crumpled. In a trash can.
My stomach hollows. I can't believe she would do that.
I don't need to read the rest, but I do.
Lisa:You will never be a part of our baby's life. If you have any drop of decency, leave our family alone. Your selfishness is driving Ben insane.
My body folds into the chair, and the table moves around me while I stare at the message, two breaths from throwing my phone through the window.
I'm driving Ben insane?! I am?!
My hands shake, tempted to text her back, tell her she might be the worst person on the planet, but that's not what I wanted to get out of this. I'm sure she thinks the same about me, too.
Maybe I am the worst person?
Maybe I am driving Ben insane?
Somehow, I manage to push my chin high. Maybe if I hold it high enough, the tears will absorb back into my eyes.
No. Unstoppable.
You'd think I'd be used to the crying by now and the ache that comes after. I should be better at it, but I'm not.
When I start thinking about it, Lisa might be right. Ben is torn between us and the life that should've been simple, sacred, beautiful. And I'm the reason it isn't.
We love each other, but that doesn't fix us.
Because sometimes, around 3 a.m., when the evil thoughts flood my mind, I picture his hand brushing her belly, and my mind spirals into the kind of madness that whispers:what if he realizes she's given him something you didn't? What if one day that rekindles the spark and that hand skims lower and he'll be gone?And all those thoughts make me get up, pace around the house, trying to shake them off but they only turn louder and more vivid.
Turning to the window, I end up watching the Golden Gate glowing in the distance, until the sky pales at the edges, and I stop fighting the truth, letting it settle in my bones.
