September 2004
“Christian, let go.” Elizabeth struggled to untangle herself from the arms wrapped around her waist. Christian tightened his hold. She giggled and pushed against his chest.
His words came muffled into the crook of her neck where he pressed his mouth against her soft skin. “No, stay.”
“I wish I could, but I have to get to class.” She pulled back, her golden-brown eyes smiling into his intense blue.
He pretended to pout but released his hold, allowing her to roll away from him. A faint smile tugged at his mouth as he turned to lie on his stomach, watching as Elizabeth dressed in the late evening light filtering in through the blinds of his bedroom window. She leaned down to pull her jeans onto her long, toned legs. Locks of dark-blond hair cascaded in messy waves over her shoulder, obstructing her small, heart-shaped face, though every line, dimple, and curve had been burned into his mind. Everything about her made him think of honey, the honey tinge of her eyes, the sun kiss of her skin, the sweetness of her mouth.
He’d known the moment he’d met her that they were perfect for each other. They’d been paired in a study group four years ago during their freshman year at Columbia University. When he’d walked through the door of the small café and had first seen her, she’d taken his breath away. Then when he’d sat down and talked to her, he found she was not only beautiful but one of the most intelligent, compassionate people he’d ever met.
Like Christian, Elizabeth wanted to be an attorney though for entirely different reasons. While he planned to become a real estate attorney so he could one day be a partner in his father’s law firm, Elizabeth was going into family law, focusing on children’s rights. She wasn’t in it for the money. She thought it was the best way for her to become an advocate for those who could not protect themselves.
The passion that came from Elizabeth’s mouth that first day had made Christian question himself—what he believed in and what he lived for. Even then, he’d been sure she would make him a better person. What Christian had found most appealing was how laid-back she was through it all. So many of the girls he’d met when he’d come to New York City had either been stuffy and boring or were only interested in partying on the free ride their wealthy parents had given them.
But not Elizabeth. She was serious about school and committed to her future, but she still took time to enjoy every day of her life, something in which Christian had had a hard time finding a balance. He’d always been pushed by his father to do the best, to be the best, and somehow he’d lost himself along the way. He’d become arrogant, conceited, and completely wrapped up in himself. Elizabeth had challenged his self-serving attitude from the very start. Christian had not been accustomed to being told no, yet somehow his typical charms had no effect on her.
~
Elizabeth was never one for frivolous things, a fling with a beautiful, black-haired, blue-eyed boy included. When she’d first met Christian, it had been clear what he was after, and Elizabeth had never allowed herself to be so careless with her affections. But as the semester had progressed and their study sessions grew longer with conversations straying far from the topic of their class, she’d uncovered more in him than the entitled frat boy she’d initially thought him to be. She’d found when she dug deeper into his past and broke through the egoistical façade, there was a good-natured boy who’d been emotionally hindered by the pressures placed on him by his elitist parents.
So when he’d asked her out again four months after their first meeting, she’d given in. It was then she realized she’d already fallen impossibly in love with a boy who came dangerously close to resembling the type of man she swore she’d never allow control of her heart.
They’d been inseparable ever since, spending every free moment of their busy schedules together. Christian had asked her many times to move in with him, and while she found the idea of waking up next to him each morning incredibly inviting, Elizabeth had always quietly refused, committed to the picture she had painted in her mind from childhood. It was one of a new house with a new husband, a place where she would become mother and he would become father, though she now found that picture skewed.
Elizabeth glanced over her shoulder at Christian as she prepared to leave, and a wave of guilt washed over her for keeping it from him for so long. She’d known for a week. Every day she intended to tell him, but each time she opened her mouth, the words just wouldn’t come. Even with the progress she’d seen him make, growing from the self-centered teenager she’d met their first year at Columbia to the kind-hearted man she knew now, he still had his life mapped out, a plan he intended to follow, and she was not sure how he was going to handle this news. She wasn’t concerned about their relationship. She felt confident in their commitment to one another. They were solid. What she was worried about was how much stress this would place on him. This wasn’t exactly what she’d expected of her last year of under-grad before law school either. Elizabeth just believed she was better at accepting what life threw her way.
Grabbing her backpack, she slung it over her shoulder and leaned down to place a quick kiss on Christian’s lips. “Bye. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He returned her kiss, lingering a little longer than she had. “I’ll miss you.”
“Miss you too.”
Elizabeth turned and left Christian’s small third-floor apartment. With each step, her feet grew heavier as she wondered about the best way to tell him. By the time she reached the last set of stairs leading to the ground floor, she’d convinced herself she just needed to get it out. She turned and raced back up the stairs. She had a key, but for some reason, she felt the need to knock. She rapped loudly on his door.
~
Stretching, Christian yawned and sat up on the side of his bed, deciding he’d better get some studying in since he’d spent most of the day in bed with Elizabeth. Not that he’d ever consider it a waste of time. When someone knocked on his door, he quickly pulled on his jeans from the floor and ran a hand through his thick mass of black hair, having no idea what was awaiting him on the other side of the door.
Peering through the peephole, he caught sight of Elizabeth. He was confused—not by her presence, but by the fact that she was standing outside his door, asking permission to enter. He swung the door open and frowned. “Elizabeth, what are you doing?”
“I need to talk to you.” The distinct anxiety laced through the words made him fearful, and he pulled her inside, shutting the door behind them.
“What’s wrong?” Obviously, there was something wrong, or she wouldn’t have been standing in his apartment, staring at her feet with rigid arms held over her chest.
“I’m pregnant.”
Christian strained to her hear her whispered words, struggling to decipher them—he was sure she had not just said what he thought she did.
Clearly, though, he was not mistaken when she finally brought her gaze to his, her eyes watery and afraid. His hands began to shake, and he ran them nervously through his hair again as he allowed himself to really hear her.
A baby? That would ruin everything—everything he’d worked for, everything she’d worked for, and every plan they’d ever made. His chest tightened, and for the first time in his life, he felt as if he might have a panic attack. Part of him wanted to demand to know how she could have been so careless, before the rational side of him made him accept whatever had happened was just as much his fault as hers. It was the rational side that saw her shaking and wanted to comfort her, to tell her it would be okay. It was the same side that told him not to panic and they had options. It didn’t have to be that big of a deal.
“Hey,” he said softly as he took a step forward to wrap his arms around her. He ran his hand through her long hair to soothe her. Her face pressed into his chest as she released an audible sigh of relief with his touch. “It’s okay,” he whispered calmly into the side of her head. “We’ll get it taken care of.”
Elizabeth jerked back as if she’d been slapped and searched his face.
“Christian, you don’t really expect me to do that, do you?” she asked, incredulous.
As much as Christian loved Elizabeth, he thought sometimes she just couldn’t see straight through her idealistic mind. Of course they’d talked about her beliefs before and he knew her viewpoint, but that was before they’d been thrown into the situation. It changed things. He was convinced it was the only way.
“Elizabeth . . . you have to.”
Elizabeth shook her head, appearing to struggle against her tears. She backed two steps away from him. “I’m having this baby, Christian.”
“Think about it, Elizabeth.” His words came out harsher than he’d intended, and Christian suddenly realized just how angry he felt that she’d already made a decision without him. “How do you expect to go through law school and have a baby? Have you even thought about it?” She had to see just how impossible the situation was.
Elizabeth looked confused as if she couldn’t grasp what he was trying to say and stuttered, “I . . . I don’t know. We . . . we’ll figure it out.”
Christian squeezed his eyes shut and turned away from her as she began to cry. He tried to rein in his temper even though he really wanted to yell at her and tell her just how stupid and irrational she was being. This would ruin their lives—his life. Somewhat unconsciously, Christian found himself thinking thoughts he’d worked so hard to overcome, thoughts of himself, what he needed, and what he wanted. Suddenly, he didn’t see the hurting girl in front of him, the girl he loved, the girl he had every intention of spending the rest of his life with.
He saw somebody standing in his way.
He turned quickly and leveled his eyes at her, his face hard as manipulative words fell from his mouth before he could really think through their meaning. “It’s me or the baby, Elizabeth. You can’t have us both.”
She swallowed deeply and nodded her head as she visibly accepted the ultimatum that Christian had laid out before her. After all, Christian knew there was really never a decision to make.
“Goodbye, Christian.” For the second time that day, he had to work to make sense of what Elizabeth had said.
Pushing past him, she reached out to turn the doorknob.
“Elizabeth.” She paused when he called her name. From behind, Christian observed the rise and fall of her uneven breaths, shocked at the heartless words he spat at her back. “Come back when you’ve changed your mind.”
She shook her head as she swung the door open and slammed it shut behind her.
Christian stared at the closed door, torn between running after her and waiting for her return. But if he went after her now, he knew that meant one of them would concede, and it wasn’t going to be him.
~
Two hours later, Christian sat at his desk studying for his politics midterm, all the while listening intently for the sound of footsteps outside his door he felt certain he would hear. He trained his attention on the heavy textbook in front of him, trying to ignore the growing anxiety he felt each time he picked up his cell phone to check if he’d missed any messages.
None came.
It was well after midnight when he crawled into bed, convinced she just needed some time to realize he was right. He had to be right. He wouldn’t allow himself to think otherwise, so every time that wave of guilt came, he pushed it aside.
He envisioned her awake, just as he was, tossing uncomfortably in her small bed that rested in the far corner of her studio apartment and slowly coming to terms with what she needed to do.
But when he dragged his unrested body from his bed the next morning, his phone was still devoid of messages.
He had been cruel—he knew it. He could only hope he hadn’t pushed her too far, but that she would somehow understand he was just trying to protect their future.
Christian ate a bowl of cold cereal and then forced himself into the steam of his shower, desperate to find anything to chase away his fatigue. He found his head in a cloud, both from lack of sleep and from the scenarios running through his mind, ones including a life without Elizabeth.
What if she never came back?
Could he really give her up?
As he rubbed the soapy washcloth over his body, he tried to picture an existence without her. A life void of the perfect pitch of her voice, the way it rang out when she laughed. A life in which he didn’t touch the softness of her skin or have the right to pull her body against his. A life without a child crying out from the next room as he tried unsuccessfully to study for the bar.
Groaning, he shook his head and forced it all away, telling himself it would not come to that.
He was certain when he saw her in class today, she would take her normal seat beside him in the lecture hall, lean in, and whisper in his ear that he was right.
But when her seat remained vacant, his unease grew, gnawing at his stomach. The moment the professor dismissed class, Christian raced from the room and to the café where Elizabeth and he studied every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. He frantically scanned the room, finding several mildly familiar faces but not the one he wanted to see.
By the time he reached her apartment complex, he was panting, both from exertion from the mile he had run and the constriction fear had placed on his heart. He pounded on the door, giving her no time to answer before he yelled, “Elizabeth!” There was no sound from the other side, no rustling of curtains or faint shuffling of feet. Even then, he wasn’t satisfied. Fumbling with his keys, he found his spare and pushed it into the lock.
The door opened to the quietness, the small studio comfortably cluttered as always. The only thing that seemed amiss was the blankets from her normally neat bed were strewn on the floor. Christian crossed the space to the only separate room. The door to the bathroom rested ajar, that room as empty as the first.
Christian pressed his back against the wall and took a deep breath. He wasn’t prepared for this. He’d never thought it would go this far.
Reluctantly, he forced himself out of the apartment, shutting and locking the door behind him before he left, hating the voice inside his head that kept telling him this was for the best.
~
Reeling from the betrayal, Elizabeth ran down the three flights of stairs and away from the man she had thought would always stand by her side. She felt as if she’d been mortally wounded by his words. Christian knew that wasn’t an option for her. How could he even have suggested it?
In the harshness of his words, she’d searched the depths of his blue eyes for the man she thought she knew but must have never really known. The man she thought she knew would never have been so cruel. She knew as she told him goodbye that her voice had shaken with heartbreak, but her choice was unwavering. There was nothing more important than the child growing inside her. When he’d called out to her just before she’d left, she’d prayed he had changed his mind. Above all, she loved him and didn’t want to live without him, but second to that, she was scared. She didn’t want to raise a child by herself, but she realized she would have to do just that when she heard no softness in his voice, but more words to inflict pain.
Tears fell endlessly as she walked the half mile from Christian’s apartment to her own. Her stomach was in knots and protesting each step she took.
She refused to look behind her as she pressed forward, her feet heavy with heartbreak, the weight causing her to stumble.
Halfway home the pain in her stomach intensified, and she vomited into some shrubs planted under the window of a storefront. This only caused her to cry harder and the cramps to worsen, which resulted in three more episodes before she made it to the single flight of stairs leading to her apartment door. She clung to the railing, holding herself up as she vomited once more over the side.
By then she was weeping, unable to control the shaking that had taken over her body. She made it to the landing of her apartment and, with trembling hands, let herself into the only place she came close to being able to afford.
She felt cold, her body convulsing as she pulled her clothes from her body and stepped into a shower that should have been hot enough to scald. Even then, she found no warmth, and she curled in upon herself on the tiled shower floor, hoping for comfort. She only quivered and shook more. She felt as if she was frozen from the inside out and nothing could thaw the chill that had settled deep in her bones. She wrapped herself in a towel and sank to her bathroom floor, heaving again into the toilet.
Elizabeth was scared.
She’d never felt so terrible before. She ached. The worst part was she couldn’t discern the source of the pain—whether it was from something truly wrong with her or from the trauma of having her life shattered around her.
Most of all she worried about her baby. She didn’t know many things about pregnancy, but nothing about this felt normal to her. So when her stomach recoiled again and nothing came up, she was sure she needed help.
She pulled herself up to stand, steadied herself with a hand against the wall when she swayed with dizziness, and prayed she could make it to her phone.
She wanted Christian so badly, and her first instinct was to dial his number, but she forced herself to dial seven different digits than the ones she so desperately wanted.
Christian was no longer hers, no longer one she could rely on, and there was only one other person in this city that she trusted.
His voice was scratchy and hoarse with sleep when he answered, “Hello?” More time had passed than Elizabeth had realized. It was nearing midnight.
“Matthew . . .” she rasped, his name barely audible. The desperation in her voice pulled him from his haze, and he shot straight up in bed.
“Elizabeth?” Matthew became frantic. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
At least three seconds passed before she wheezed out a shaky, “No.”
Matthew pulled on pants and stuffed his arms into the first button up he could find while keeping the phone pressed between his ear and shoulder. He tried unsuccessfully to sound calm. “Elizabeth, sweetheart, tell me what’s wrong.” He was already out the door and starting his car before she could answer that she was sick.
Matthew was at her apartment and up the short flight of stairs before five minutes had passed, where he found his friend curled up on her bed, shivering under a pile of blankets.
“Elizabeth?” He rushed to her side, pulling the covers back to expose just her head, her blond hair darkened to a near brown from the profuse sweat pouring down her forehead.
He reached out to push her hair away so he could see her face, shocked by the paleness of her skin and the swollen redness of her eyes.
Matthew wanted to ask her a million questions, but she was passing in and out of consciousness, and it was clear she needed more help than he could give. He pushed her covers to the floor except for the one he wrapped her in before bringing her into his arms. Her small body was heavier than he anticipated, completely limp, and he struggled to maneuver her down the stairway and to his car.
He contemplated dialing 911, but the hospital was so close, he was certain he would get her to the emergency room before an ambulance could arrive.
Within minutes, Matthew was pulling around the circular drive under the bright red glow of the sign that read, “Emergency Room.”
He entered through the automatic doors, yelling for help. With a flurry of activity, several orderlies pulled Elizabeth from his arms and placed her on a gurney.
The nurse led Matthew to a small curtained area where Elizabeth lay unconscious. He felt overwhelmed as the nurse hammered him with questions he could not answer.
“Date of birth?”
“Is she on any medications?”
“Does she have any allergies?”
“When did the symptoms start?”
Shaking his head that had begun to pound from the immense amount of stress, he stated he didn’t know.
He slumped into a hard, plastic chair pushed against the far corner of the wall and watched as they began to poke and prod at his friend. He felt helpless, having no idea what he was supposed to do.
Should he call someone?
Christian?
Elizabeth’s mother?
No. She had called him, and that in itself gave him a clue. She needed him, and so he chose to be there for her, even if it meant waiting around and having no idea what was going on.
As he sat silently in the corner and watched the nurses and a doctor work over Elizabeth, he thought about how she’d come into his life. He’d met her the year before at the small diner where they worked on the weekends. They were much alike in many ways. They both lived in a city neither could afford, attending a college they’d dreamed of most of their young lives, living off scholarships, grants, and mounting student loans they’d both be paying for well into their thirties. The tips they made on a Saturday shift barely covered food and necessities for the week. But neither of them looked at those things as negatives in their lives. Instead, they embraced the opportunity and ran with it, and they’d become fast friends.
Matthew obviously knew how beautiful Elizabeth was. He wasn’t blind, but he’d never viewed her that way and didn’t harbor unrequited feelings. He loved her as a friend. Truly.
That didn’t mean he liked her boyfriend. To Matthew, Christian was a spoiled rich kid who was doing nothing more than slumming while he played at college. He was certain Christian would break Elizabeth’s heart.
Matthew winced for Elizabeth when they inserted a long, thick needle into her forearm before attaching an IV bag to the line.
For what seemed an eternity, Matthew sat and watched Elizabeth sleep while the color slowly came back to her face as the bag dripped its contents into her veins. Really, little more than an hour had passed when the very young doctor who had examined her returned, chart in hand.
He extended his free hand across the small space to Matthew. “Dr. Lopez.”
Matthew nodded and shook his hand. “Matthew Stevens.”
“All of her test results are back . . . severely dehydrated . . . anemic . . . pregnancy . . . too much stress . . .” Matthew tried to focus on what the doctor was saying, but really heard nothing more than pregnancy.
Matthew felt lightheaded with the implications this would have for his friend. Slowly everything fell into place, the late night phone call to him when it should have been to someone else, the swollen eyes—the doctor’s words about too much stress triggering shock.
Matthew curled his fists, sickened that someone could treat his friend so poorly—anyone that poorly. Matthew’s first instinct was to go straight to Christian Davison’s apartment and tear him apart. Instead, he moved to sit on the edge of Elizabeth’s bed and ran his hand through his friend’s matted hair, silently promising her he would always take care of her.
~
May 2005
Christian stood in front of the full-length mirror, studying himself in the long, black gown, seeing nothing more than a pathetic excuse for a man staring back at him.
He should have felt proud. Receiving his bachelors at Columbia with top honors should be a proud day. His mother and father had just left his apartment to await him in the car but not before his father had proclaimed how proud his only son had made him this day.
But Christian didn’t feel proud—he felt ashamed.
He’d seen her about three weeks before in line at the store, though she hadn’t seen him. He had gathered the few items he needed, deodorant, shampoo, and toothpaste, and hastily had made his way back up to the registers. He’d scanned for the shortest line when he saw the wavy locks of blond hair he knew so well. He’d felt an immediate pull, the need to go to her, but had frozen when she turned to the side, exposing the large protuberance in her abdomen.
Like a coward, he’d hidden himself, watching her with an almost morbid curiosity from behind a row of shelves. He felt sick, observing the woman he still loved, but had betrayed, strain to reach the items in the cart—diapers, blankets, and small things he didn’t recognize. She was preparing for her baby to be born.
It frightened him that she now seemed thinner than he remembered, her skin sallow and chalky, gaunt, as if the growing mass in her front had stolen all the life from the rest of her body.
Even then, she was still the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.
But, like he already knew himself to be, he remained the coward and did nothing but watch as she paid for her things and walked out the door.
It was the only time he’d seen her since they’d fought at his apartment. She’d never returned to class, had never called or sought him out, had never changed her mind.
He had made no real effort of his own since that first day when he’d gone to her place, only calling once and hanging up when a man had answered her phone. He could have tried harder—should have tried harder—but he’d taken the easy way out. He’d convinced himself that he didn’t ache for her, pretended that his sleepless nights had nothing to do with his worry for her. He told himself she’d moved on, that she didn’t need him, that she’d found her own way. Even if she had, he knew it still didn’t absolve his responsibility for the child.
So as his guilt had grown, he’d done more and more to drown it out, spending long days in class and even longer nights with his head spinning from the amount of alcohol he’d consumed, then waking to unfamiliar women in unfamiliar beds.
No, today was not a proud day.
Christian grabbed his cap and trudged downstairs to join his parents in their waiting car.
~
The celebratory dinner was everything Christian had expected it to be, the sound of forks and knives clattering against china filtering into the stuffy atmosphere of the Club, the waiters in tuxedos and far too willing to accommodate. Christian’s father, Richard, lectured him that his schooling had only begun and that the next three years of law school were going to be the toughest of his life. Claire, Christian’s mother, sat withdrawn as she listened to her husband giving her son instruction he obviously didn’t need.
It was nothing Christian hadn’t heard before. Every conversation he’d ever had with his father had been the same. He’d hoped that for just one night his father would be satisfied, that they could relax and just talk, but it was always about the next step, the next achievement.
Thankfully, Claire interrupted and changed the subject with small talk of their travel plans for the summer. She seemed irritated by her husband this evening, her smile tight and no real light coming from her blue eyes. Normally, she remained mostly quiet during family conversations, sipping from a glass of wine and nodding agreement with whatever Richard said to their son. Tonight though, she seemed anxious, as if she would explode if Richard uttered one more word about Christian’s future. Christian watched his mom from across the table and wondered about her happiness. He wondered if in all the years he had thought her perfectly content in her huge house and endless social gatherings she was ever really happy at all, because when he really looked hard, he saw no true joy in her face.
Christian couldn’t even remember the last real conversation he’d had with his mother, so he smiled at the stories his mother told. Her face took on a new vibrancy as she talked of him as a child, and he relaxed into his chair, no longer guarded, until his mother asked a question he hadn’t been prepared to answer. “What happened with that girl you were dating? What was her name . . . Elizabeth?”
Christian felt himself tense and his shame return, but he found himself answering her because he needed to tell somebody. Looking at his plate, he muttered, “We broke up.”
“Oh?” his mother asked, as if she expected further explanation, one she would be shocked to hear, but even more shocking was he wanted to tell her.
He lifted his eyes to hers and spoke, even though it was choppy and reeked of confession. “She’s having a baby.”
Almost simultaneously, his parents dropped their utensils to the table, staring as they waited for him to clarify.
“She told me in the fall. I told her I didn’t want it . . . so she left. I haven’t talked to her since.” Christian tried to maintain eye contact with his mother as he said these things, but had to look away when he saw the disappointment race across her face.
Her voice shook, but was still the strongest he’d ever heard. “Christian,” she demanded, “How could you treat someone . . .”
Richard’s rant cut off Claire as Christian’s father spouted words about irresponsibility and money and tarnished reputations. Only Christian noticed when his mother stood and ran from the table.
~
The ride home from the restaurant was tense and silent. Christian’s mother had left the table right after his admission. For the twenty minutes she was away, Christian was scolded by his father. When she’d returned, it was obvious she’d been crying, her makeup smudged and her eyes red. After she had taken her seat, no one had spoken a word nor had they since.
The driver pulled up in front of Christian’s building, and Richard made no move, though his mother exited the car and hugged Christian in a way she hadn’t for many, many years. When she pulled away, her face was wet with tears again, and her hand trembled as she raised it to touch his cheek. “Make this right.” He hadn’t expected this encouragement, and it left him confused as he watched her take her place in the backseat of the Town Car. He stared at their taillights as they drove away and disappeared into the night.
Christian hung his head as he made his way to his apartment, knowing what his mom said was true. He could make this right, but he also knew he would probably never be brave enough to do it.
Once upstairs, Christian changed and then walked to the building next to his own to join the people he could barely consider friends, as they celebrated their graduation the best way they knew how. The music was loud and the apartment cramped, the room almost alive with the movement of people who considered this one of the best days of their lives.
Christian had never felt worse.
With a platinum blonde on his lap, he sat on the couch, draining his sixth beer and wondering what the hell he was doing there. The crowd had become rowdy and obnoxious, and Christian wanted nothing more than to escape from it all. He just had no idea where he wanted to go.
He shut his eyes and pretended he didn’t hear the loud, drunken voice of Nathan, a guy he could hardly stand when he was sober, let alone after he’d consumed half his weight in alcohol. But he couldn’t ignore it when Nathan slapped him on the back, his booming voice slurred with laughter as he shouted, “I hear congratulations are in order for the proud papa.”
Christian felt all the blood drain from his face, leaving him lightheaded, barely able to force out, “What?”
Nathan cackled as if nothing had ever been more entertaining to him. “What? Didn’t you hear, man? You became a daddy this morning.”
Christian stood and pushed the giggling girl from his lap. He’d never hated himself more. How could he have done this? He loved Elizabeth, didn’t he? But people didn’t do things like this to people they loved.
He vomited just outside the door in the hallway—not from the alcohol he’d consumed, but from the disgust he found within himself. He stumbled home and into bed, praying he would fall asleep and awake with all of his regret gone.
But sleep never came, and he lay staring at the ceiling, unable to will his mind to stop long enough to find rest. At four o’clock, he gave up and got out of bed, still wearing wrinkled jeans and a T-shirt that smelled like beer. Putting on a discarded Columbia sweatshirt from the floor, he walked. Obviously, he knew where he was going, though he wouldn’t allow himself to consciously think it.
He entered through the emergency room entrance because all the other doors had been locked for the night. When he arrived on the maternity floor, a nurse stopped him. Visiting hours didn’t start for another three hours, but when he explained he was a father and showed his ID, the woman allowed him through.
He gathered all his courage and pushed forward, preparing to admit to Elizabeth he was wrong. He would tell her that he was sorry, that he would take it all back if he could. He was prepared to beg for the forgiveness he knew he didn’t deserve. But what he wasn’t prepared for was finding Matthew with his back to him, sitting in a chair and gently caressing Elizabeth’s face while she slept.
Christian froze when he realized he was too late; he’d done too much harm. He stood silently and watched the man who was only supposed to be her friend sit in the spot where he should have been. He watched Matthew adoring the girl who deserved every touch and embrace, the girl who deserved a man better than he knew himself to be. She deserved a man like Matthew who had stepped up and filled the place Christian should never have stepped away from.
He allowed the pain to well up in his chest, and he said a silent goodbye to the girl he would always love. He stepped back and let the door close between them. As he escaped down the hall, he trained his attention on the floor, not allowing himself to look through the large glass window where he knew his child slept. He knew if he saw, he would never be able to walk away.
Elizabeth was taken care of and happy, and for once, Christian would do something that he wasn’t doing for himself.
After all, it was for the best.