Chapter Twenty-Eight
Shelby
I heard Damien wake up in his nursery. I sighed, turning the television off and putting my cup of coffee down. Finally. I woke up before he did usually but this past week, it had been a little intense. I had gone to sleep last night just a couple hours after putting him down. After trying to fall asleep for I don't know how long, it finally worked, until it didn't. I had been up again at four fifteen, and everything I had tried to do to tire myself out enough for bed hadn't worked. I had had coffee, changed into my work clothes, done my hair and makeup, all while Damien had slept soundly in his nursery. Sleep was important, so if anyone was losing it, at least it was me and not him.
It had been like this the whole week, ever since the confrontation with Jason. If I had known in Napa that this had been what I would be coming back to, I would have stayed. Of course, I knew that wasn't an option for me, but it was comforting to think about when everything got to be too much. I walked into Damien's room, hearing him babble to himself in his crib. I smiled when he did, seeing me.
"Good morning, bub; are you ready to go to work?" I asked, tickling his stomach. My perfect little boy. If Jason had done anything right in his life, it was giving me Damien. I could resent him all I wanted, but this little guy never would have entered my life if Jason hadn't dragged me out to that control room that night. I took him out of the crib and went to the dresser, picking clothes out for him before going to the dressing table. He could roll onto his sides now when he was on his back so I couldn't put him on the table and leave him there alone while I looked for some clothes for him.
I got him dressed and sat in the corner with him, on the chair to nurse. I was more or less ready to walk out already, so the morning routine was basically done. All we had to do was leave. This wasn't typical though. Mornings were a lot more hurried for me, usually. I wasn't typically up early enough to have myself totally ready to go before Damien was up. I had been feeling it later in the day, at work this whole past week, trying to concentrate and fight the fatigue. I'd be exhausted by the time I got back to the house but when night fell, nothing but a couple hours restless sleep before I was wide awake at the crack of dawn.
Damien finished drinking, so I burped him and we went to the living room. I turned the television on for some background noise and put him down on the ground, on his blanket while I quickly whipped up some toast and eggs. I ate with him on his blanket instead of at the table like we usually did. After, I mixed a couple tablespoons of rice cereal with breastmilk and fed it to Damien. I had asked his pediatrician, and he had said that a little at a time would be perfectly fine, especially since he had started showing interest in my food when I would eat with him. Every baby was different, he had said. No, it wasn't weird apparently that he had already started trying to roll himself over and scoot across the floor when he was put down on his stomach, even though he was still a little short of four months.
I had come close to telling Jason about Damien. I imagined that he maybe would have wanted to hear about him. That and... I missed him. That was all there was to it. He had been nice to have around, both to help with Damien but also, because despite everything, there was something there. I had been replaying the fight that we had had the day after I had come back from Napa. He should have given up after that; if he had, I wouldn't have spent the whole week thinking about him. I could try to pin it on him if I wanted but the truth was, part of me was glad that he hadn't stopped calling. It was down to just one a day. I never answered, but he had been leaving messages.
He had found a place, an apartment in Monterey Park, about a twenty-minute drive from here and he had already gotten a job. Surprisingly, it wasn't a broadcast job: he was writing now. I knew that he had had some writing skill since he had worked in broadcast journalism but I hadn't realized that that would have been something he wanted to do. He had started earlier this week, and after just one day, he had loved it. I had to give him props for not running back to what he knew. I had asked him to quit his anchor job because of how big it made his head; it made me feel like he had taken that into consideration getting this new one.
It was my move now. I washed the dishes and hung out with Damien till it was time to leave. I was the one who had to do something about this if it bothered me so much. He had listened to me and kept his distance. I couldn't expect him to reach out any more than he had since he had done everything he could. I had to do something. I had been antsy all week, and I needed to do something about it. Talking to Jason would give me closure. All the anger I had felt after seeing the pictures was still there, but not as bad, not so big that it clouded my judgment anymore.
Parking at work, I got my phone out and called Paula. She was usually free when I needed her, but there was a chance that she wouldn't be able to take Damien today. If she could, I wanted her to pick him up from the daycare and take him back to the apartment. I was doing it. I had to go see him. It would just get worse the more I dragged it out. I was tired of feeling the way I had. Whatever he said, I'd be ready for. I had had a whole week practically to get ready. I had gone over every possible outcome in my head. I didn't imagine he could even surprise me if he tried.
"Hello?" Paula said, picking up my call. I had been afraid that maybe it was too early and she wouldn't answer. I asked her whether she was free that evening and could help me out with Damien. She said that she was once I had broken down what I needed from her. I would have just taken him, but I didn't know what was going to end up happening with Jason when we saw each other again. No, I didn't mean like that. It had been a bit of time since we had had sex, but that wasn't why I wanted to go over to see him. I didn't want Damien to be there if things started going sideways.
Going into work, I let Karla at the daycare know that Paula would be picking Damien up and went up to the newsroom. Work went by in an exhausted blur. My concentration was shot, both from the exhaustion of cumulative sleepless nights and the anxiety of seeing Jason again. The closer I got to clocking out, the more nervous I got about seeing him. There was almost nothing that he could do to surprise me at this point. Knowing that, I still didn't want to be disappointed. I knew now from how angry I had gotten over the pictures that I cared about him a lot more than I had even realized. He was the father of my first child, but he was also the man who I thought about constantly when we weren't together. It had hurt me so much because he was more, a lot more than just my baby's daddy.
Back down at my car when it was finally time, I searched the messages he had been sending me to find his address. I hadn't replied to any, but I had read them all, some multiple times. After the traffic it took to get to his neighborhood, his place wasn't hard to find. The building he lived in didn't have a doorman, so I went straight up. He lived on the eighth floor. I knocked at the door to his unit and waited, taking a couple deep breaths. I hadn't called ahead to let him know that I would be showing up; I was about to knock again when he opened the door.
His eyes widened when he saw me. I hadn't been ready for what I would feel when I saw him again. He was in nothing but a pair of loose basketball shorts. He must have just come out of the shower because his hair was damp, a little darker than usual from the water. His body wasn't anything I hadn't seen before, but it had been long enough for the sight of him to take me out for a few seconds. He was built like an athlete, all the strength, and size of one even though he didn't play any sports. His abs were cut and defined, his broad chest and shoulders were packed with muscle, and his arms were thick and powerful.
"Shel?" he said. I looked down, embarrassed that I had been gawking at him.
"Jason... hi," I said, shakily. He stared at me like he wasn't sure I was actually there. "Is this a bad time? Can I come in?" I walked in past him before he gave me an answer. I had worked up the nerve for the visit, and I didn't think that I would be able to do it again if I chickened out.
"Uh, yeah. Sure," he said behind me. The place was small, surprisingly small, actually. I had been expecting a place, well, closer to the one he had lived in in New York. He had never invited me over or anything, but just the fact that it had been a penthouse in Tribeca had been enough for me to use my imagination. This was an absolute downgrade. It was a downgrade from where I lived. I knew it was hard to find places here firsthand; I had just never thought Jason Bowman could fit his ego into five and a half hundred square feet. There was a couch, small dining table with a computer on it, and his bed was right there, a few feet from the table. I turned and looked at him.
"I came here from work. I've been thinking about what happened last week, and I'm ready to listen to what you have to say." His brows went up, and he crossed his arms.
"Now you want to hear me talk?" he challenged. I walked over to the couch and sat. He didn't have a TV; it faced the windows that overlooked the view of the city outside. Yeah, I was; if he wasn't then I'd leave and that time, I wouldn't come back.
"You've been calling me all week; suddenly you have nothing to say?" I said. He walked over and looked down at me on the couch.
"Meanwhile you haven't said shit to me in over a week."
"I came here to listen. Not talk. Are you going to tell me?" I said, more confident than I was feeling. If he was mad, I got it. If he was going to kick me out and tell me never to come back again, then I would do it. This was me reaching out, the way he had coming all the way to L.A. If I was too late, then I would know better for next time. He looked across the room then back at me.
"Wait here," he said. I exhaled, looking down at my lap. It wasn't too late. He was going to tell me.