Chapter Eight
EMILY
Sometimes I think that putting a name to my mystery man only made things worse. At least meeting him did. It had been a week since I left his penthouse feeling like a reject, and I had yet to hear from him. Mariah thought I should reach out to him, but what more was there to say? I’d told him about our child together and given him the opportunity to play whatever role he wanted. He was making it more than clear that he didn’t want to play a part at all. Instead, he wanted to act like I didn’t exist.
He was so confusing. The way he looked at me and touched me made me think there may be something between us, but then he drops the bomb that he needs time. Surely he didn’t need time to take my clothes off, that he seemed more than ready to do. And my God was he good at it. Knowing I didn’t have anything to compare it to personally, I knew our sexual chemistry was exceptional. I’d heard enough terrible tales from Mariah to know that what we had was way better than average.
I knew going over to meet him was a gamble, and I had no intention of forcing any type of relationship on him, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want it. After reading countless blog articles about how much of a bad boy he was, I questioned if he even had the capability to be in a committed relationship. Maybe he was doing me a favor by ignoring me. I didn’t want an unfaithful man, but the thought of being a single mother was stressing me out. So much so that I tried my regular routine of jumping on the trampoline for a little stress relief, but I think it might have been too strenuous because afterward, I felt some pretty severe cramps.
I figured I should check up on it, so I scheduled an emergency doctor’s appointment, and now as I wait for the results I just pray I didn’t harm my baby.
“Hey Emily,” Dr. Lindsey cheerily walked into the exam room holding her clipboard.
“Is everything okay?” I nervously asked, unable to participate in our regular routine of small talk.
“Yes, but you shouldn’t be putting yourself at risk this way,” her look of concern was a bit embarrassing. She looked at me like I should know better as she settled into her stool before rolling over to the exam table.
“I know. It’s just that gymnastics is how I relieve stress, so I thought that this would be the least dangerous exercise,” I vainly justified.
“How about we go for no risk. Can you handle that?” She jokingly asked. Of course, I shouldn’t be risking my health at all during pregnancy, but she didn’t know what I was going through and I really didn’t want to tell her. So instead I just agreed.
“I think that’s fair. So you think I should abstain from all gymnastics?” I was afraid to hear her answer as all of the exercises I wouldn’t be able to do rushed through my mind.
“I think that’s best. And you should begin to look for colleagues that can take on your students while you take some time off. You’re facing at least 6-months of necessary maternity leave, considering the physical nature of your profession,” she began checking off things on her clipboard as if she hadn’t just dropped a bomb in my life.
“Six months?” I practically yelled in disbelief. I’d considered the time off I’d need once the baby was born, and my job allocated for 3-months paid leave, which I thought was beyond sufficient. But six months seemed excessive. I had a nice cushion of savings; my parents had each left me a sizeable inheritance that I rarely needed to touch, but I didn’t plan on using it all before my baby’s first birthday.
“Do you imagine yourself spotting your students during your 8th month of pregnancy, Emily?” She scrunched her eyebrows in a way that let me know her question was rhetorical, but I decided to answer anyway.
“Well, yes. Actually, I thought I could work up until I had the baby and then just take a couple of months off after the birth,” I tilted my head as Dr. Lindsey began laughing during my explanation of my tentative plan. She instantly stopped laughing when I began to frown.
“Oh, you’re serious,” she paused as she put her hand over mine, silently assuring me she meant no offense. “Emily, I know plenty of women who have over-ambitious plans during their first pregnancy. You’re relatively young, and you’re very healthy, so I don’t doubt that you will be able to do everything you imagine.
But, just to be safe, let’s plan on the cautious side because babies can drain you of your energy. You’ve already begun experiencing fatigue and exhaustion in your first trimester. That’s only going to increase as time goes on, so you should have a plan in place for that,” Dr. Lindsey was trying her best not to be condescending, but I could see in her eyes what she really wanted to say. She wanted to tell me I was crazy if I thought I’d be able to continue teaching gymnastics throughout my entire pregnancy.
“Well, I guess you know best,” I conceded while trying to force a smile.
“Emily, you’ll have plenty of time to teach and practice yourself, but you’ll only have one time to get this right. In the grand scheme of things, when you’re holding your healthy baby, you’ll look back and realize how small of a sacrifice this is,” she smiled gently as she stood from her stool and informed me that I could get dressed before excusing herself.
As soon as the door closed the tears began rolling down my face. While I knew Dr. Lindsey meant well, I couldn’t help but feel like an asshole after her speech. Why was I risking my child’s health because of my personal stress? And why would I even consider working up until the birth, as if my baby wouldn’t need me to rest and take it easy? I shouldn’t need to be told to sacrifice, but I was grateful to Dr. Lindsey for making it clear that my plan needed some readjusting.
After getting dressed, I decided to treat myself to lunch. I could use the pick me up, and Mariah was free, so she decided to join me. We decided to meet at our favorite Mexican restaurant since it was close to her job.
“I ordered you a virgin margarita,” Mariah announced as I sat down at the table she’d reserved for us.
“How long have you been waiting?” I asked, knowing her schedule was busy.
“Oh, I just got her. Don’t worry,” she said casually as she handed me a menu, although I already knew what I was ordering.
“You know I’m getting the enchiladas,” I said while placing the menu on the table.
“When is this belly gonna grow? You’re going to be so cute with a baby bump,” Mariah said while smiling and gently rubbing my belly as I scooted next to her in the semi-circle booth.
“I’ve got enough changes to deal with, the belly can take its time,” I half smirked while glancing around the restaurant. It was pretty empty despite it being the lunch hour. We would’ve never been able to take up such a large booth at nighttime, as it was one of the more popular restaurants in the downtown area.
“Are your boobs bigger?” Mariah leaned back to gauge how much my breasts had grown.
“Just a little, but I’m always tired. I literally daydream about naps at work. It's ridiculous,” I confessed as the waiter placed our drinks on the table before taking our food orders.
“So have you talked to Aiden at all?” Mariah asked as the waiter retreated towards the kitchen. I could sense the apprehension in her voice. We hadn’t talked about Aiden since I’d gone to meet him.
“Nope,” I said flatly, over exaggerating my lips before taking a sip of my virgin margarita.
“Ouch. What’s his deal?” She asked while rolling her eyes.
“I guess he just doesn’t want to be a daddy,” I shrugged while sharing what I had thought to be the only reasonable explanation for his behavior.
“Well, he doesn’t get much of a choice. That part’s settled; he’s definitely going to be a daddy. The only question is if he’s going to be a good one or a deadbeat.” Mariah was in full-on defensive mode. Although she hadn’t told me when I first found out who he was during the hockey game, she later admitted that she’d heard rumors of him being a playboy, and how he was known to get into trouble and start fights. She didn’t think there was a chance that he would step up to the plate and be a father to our baby, and with his lack of communication, I had to agree with her.
“It’s a lot to take in, Mariah. He’s probably in so much shock. I don’t really blame him. He has to process it on his own time, and maybe he just doesn’t want to play a role. That doesn’t make him the worst person in the world,” I was trying to convince Mariah and myself. I’d pretty much accepted that I was going to raise my baby alone, but I really didn’t want to have any animosity or hate towards their father. So I’d been trying to reasonably understand his actions so that I could find some way to forgive him.
“Actually I think this is the definition of the worst person. How could you just abandon your child? He’s a fucking billionaire, he could at least give you some money,” Mariah said enraged, thankfully she whispered the last sentence.
“In his defense, he did tell me to call him if I needed anything, but I’m not going to ask him for money. I’d rather he played no role at all than to be some sort of absent bankroll,” I explained.
In some ways, I wondered if Aiden was testing me. Maybe he wanted to see if I was just after his money, so he wasn’t calling to see if I would reach out to him with a request. I guess I was reaching for straws refusing to embrace my inevitable future as a single mom.
“Emily, I know you’re a very proud person, but don’t force yourself to struggle to prove a point. He’s just as responsible as you. And if you need something, you should hit him up to help,” she spoke in her gentle tone that let me know she was serious, and she felt sorry for me. I hated that Mariah pitied me.
I’d envisioned myself pregnant many times before. I imagined shopping for cribs with my husband, having a maternity photo shoot, planning a baby shower and even going to ultrasounds together. My dream life as I envisioned it was ruined. I tried not to give it much thought because I didn’t want the birth of my baby to signify the death of my dream life.
Instead, I wanted to create a new dream life for myself, but it was difficult with nothing about my reality being ideal. Everything seemed to be stressful and frankly quite exhausting. I couldn’t even bring myself to tell Mariah about Dr. Lindsey’s suggestion that I plan for 6-months off, or how that would financially strain me. I knew she would only stress the option to ask Aiden for help and I wasn’t ready to look at him as nothing more than financial aid.
“I will if it ever comes to that,” I said instead, hoping to end the entire debate.
The rest of our lunch was uneventful. Mariah told me about a new guy she had met and their upcoming date. For the first time ever I felt a pang of jealousy, realizing my best friend was doing something I would never have the opportunity to do again. Every other date I would ever go on would be an interview process for a potential stepdad. My desires were going to have to take the backseat while I focused on what was best for my baby.
After lunch, I decided to walk around downtown for a while to clear my head. I had taken the day off for my doctor’s appointment, and although it sounded quite tempting, I didn’t want to sleep the entire day away. I was standing at a crosswalk, waiting for the light to change when I saw a woman leaning into her stroller, checking on her baby. She looked so happy, and I silently imagined myself to be like that in a couple of months.
Maybe motherhood would make me more confident and sure of myself. I mean, if you can birth a child there’s not much anyone can say to make you feel inadequate. I was smiling at the thought when the movement around me disturbed my daydream. The light had turned red, and everyone was preparing to cross the street when a yellow Lamborghini flew through the light, causing several women around me to audibly gasp before mumbling about how careless the driver must be.
I instantly thought of Aiden and how it could have very well been him behind that wheel, speeding to nowhere. He didn’t seem to be ready to stop his playboy lifestyle for a child, and I couldn’t blame him. Unlike me, he had a choice. His body wasn’t changing so he could pretend none of this was happening. I envied that about him because I hadn’t been able to spend a second of my life thinking about anything other than my doomed future since finding out I was pregnant.
The time when I was with Aiden was the only exception. The two hours we’d spent together were the only time I didn’t worry about the future. For that short period, it kind of felt like everything was going to be alright. Just thinking about that day made me begin to crave him, and his touch, so I tried to push the memory to the back of my mind.
I’d considered every possible scenario and decided that it was all or nothing with him. There was no way we could maintain a sexual relationship, while I raised our child as a single mother. No, we were either going to officially be together, or there would be no relationship at all. And Aiden had made it very clear that we were not going to be together. Admitting that I would never get to experience that mind blowing sex again was almost as devastating as facing the fact that I would be a single mother.
My life had taken a bit of a nosedive. Three months ago I was daydreaming about finding my perfect man, marrying him and only stressing about which white picket fence would look best for our home. Now, here I was sad that I wouldn’t be able to casually fuck my child’s father. I laughed and shook my head at the realization; it was too funny not to.
Rubbing my belly, I quietly whispered to myself, “it’s just you and me, baby,” before admitting defeat and hailing a cab to go home and nap the day away.