“Forgiveness is when someone gives you the peace to forgive yourself.” ~ Johnny Outlaw
Sitting in the exam room of my OBGYN, I think of Dalton out in the waiting room. I miss him and it’s only been a few minutes since we parted. But deep down, I know it’s more. It’s that I missed him being a part of my life, part of this experience.
Lying here on the table in this room all alone, his absence is felt all around me. All these misunderstandings and pain, none of it matters when something more important is at risk. I lie back on the exam table and call him on the phone.
He answers right away. “Hey, what’s going on?”
“I changed my mind.” Starting to feel overwhelmed by how much I need him with me, I sniffle. “I want you here with me.”
“I’ll be right there.”
Not even two minutes later, there’s a light wrap on the door. The nurse opens it and says, “Someone’s here to see you.”
Dalton walks in and straight over to me. He places a kiss on my forehead and asks, “How are you doing?”
I don’t hold my smiles back anymore. “Better now.”
The doctor enters soon after. “Mrs. Dalton, what brings you in today?” he asks, but then sees Dalton standing there. “Umm, wow, you’re Johnny Outlaw.”
Dalton smiles. “You can call me Johnny.” When they shake hands, the doctor seems embarrassed. “I apologize. I didn’t expect to see you when I walked in. I’m a big fan.”
“It’s okay, but I’m here for my wife and baby.”
When the doctor turns to me, he smiles. “I never put two and two together.” Sitting down on a chair at the end of the table, he asks, “What brings you in today, Mrs. Dalton?”
“I had shooting pain last night. We called an ambulance and when the paramedics arrived, they checked mine and the baby’s vitals. Elevated heart rates, but they said they didn’t think I needed to go to the hospital last night and to check in with you today.”
He’s reading over the file as I speak, nodding, but then looks up and says, “I’d like to go ahead and do an ultrasound. I know we’re ahead of next week’s appointment, but it’s always good for us to err on the side of caution. Are you okay with that?”
“Yes.” Glancing to Dalton, I say, “You’ll get to hear the heartbeat.”
The doctor asks a few questions as the nurse prepares the gel and machine. “It’s a good report from the paramedics. I’m thinking they did the right thing. You haven’t experienced any bleeding and the pain described seems to be short-lived, but let’s take a listen.”
Dalton stands by my side, holding my hand. As he stares at the monitor I can’t stop myself from staring at him in anticipation. When the first heartbeat is heard, his chest fills and releases slowly, the relief obvious. Pulling my hand to his mouth, he kisses it. His eyes have filled with tears, overcome by the reality. With my hand still pressed to his lips, he says, “That’s our baby.”
I peek at the monitor and see the baby on the screen. The heartbeat fills the room and I tear up like I do every time. “That’s our baby.”
The doctor says, “The baby sounds healthy and from what we can see on the monitor, growing just right. You’re doing a great job. Just keep that stress down and stay active. Most expectant moms find it helps to take walks.” Pictures are printed and he hands them to Dalton. “Here are some photos to take with you.”
The doctor continues talking, but Dalton doesn’t seem to hear a word he says. His mouth closes and his eyes flash to mine. “We have photos… of our baby.” His hand covers my belly just as my shirt is lowered.”
Smiling from his reaction, I reply, “Yes, I have more at home I can show you too. Pretty amazing, huh?”
“Yeah,” he says with a grin that feels personal, just for us.
The doctor clears his throat and repeats himself, “If you’d like to find out the sex, I was told we have an opening. It’s only a few days before your appointment, so if you’d like to find out, we’ll send you over there now.”
My eyes meet Dalton’s, questioning without words.
“I’m happy the baby’s healthy. I’d like to know the sex, but it’s up to Holliday.”
“I want to know for purely superficial reasons like décor and clothes, but also for the name.”
“I’ll let them know. They’re just across the hall. You can gather your stuff and go when you’re ready.” He walks to the door, and says, “Make sure she takes care of herself and keep the stress to a minimum.”
Dalton responds, “I will.” The door closes and as if it hadn’t occurred to him previously, he asks, “Have you chosen names already?”
“I’ve started paying more attention to names, but I couldn’t bring myself to pick one without you.”
“You had faith in me when I had none.” He leans over and hugs me though the positioning is perfectly awkward. But like our mistakes, perfectly awkward doesn’t matter.
We’re together and that’s what does. “I had faith that you’d find your way home. Now that you have, I hope you’ll stay.”
He looks me in the eyes with a new conviction. “I’m never leaving again.”
Offering me a hand up, I lift up on the table and swing my feet over the side. Pulling him close, I say, “I won’t go through this again, Dalton. If you leave again, I won’t be there when you come back.”
He kisses the top of my head. “I’ll never leave you.” Everything about the way he said it, the way he looks with this confidence in his eyes, and the way he’s treating me reassures me in ways that words might not. So as I watch him gather my jacket and bag, I realize this is it. The war is over. We’ve both surrendered, choosing to love each other instead of fight. We win. It’s then that I decide to move forward and let the past stay where it belongs, in the past.
Across the hall I lie there in tears when they tell us the sex of our baby. But even through my watery vision, I can see the heavy, life-changing emotion as it plays out across Dalton’s face. There’s no doubt on his face. None at all. He loves this baby wholeheartedly. His hand tightens around mine and his eyes are fixed on the screen. “Wow,” he says. And I feel the same exact way.
The technician leaves the room quietly and when I stand up, Dalton takes me in his arms. Resting his forehead against mine, he closes his eyes and I close mine.
With my arms around him, I say, “How am I going to handle two Outlaws?” A low chuckle is heard before he cups my face, and says, “No one could handle two of us better than you. But let’s just hope his disposition takes after his mother’s.”
“For all of our sakes.” I giggle. “So we need to come up with a boy’s name.”
“We can do that, but first I’m gonna kiss you.”
The touch is sweet, but the kiss intimate—one that has forever laced all over it.
The baby’s room was painted a few days ago and dried since, but I open the window to let fresh air in anyway. New Daddy syndrome has struck. Dalton has gone overboard buying stuff for the baby—a Fender Stratocaster guitar, stuffed animals… basically a zoo’s worth, and he wants to have the lyrics of a song he’s working on painted onto the wall. I can’t deny his excitement makes me happy.
The room overlooks the grounds, a garden of roses that was planted last year. They’re thriving, much like me and Dalton over the last week.
“You’re more beautiful than ever. Have I told you that?” Dalton says.
I turn and glance over my shoulder. “A few times,” I reply, loving it every time he says it.
Leaning against the doorframe, he’s relaxed, at peace with the world. Finally. “Rochelle’s here to see you.”
Rochelle walks in and Dalton excuses himself, closing the door to give us privacy. She embraces me like we haven’t seen each other in ages or might never see each other again. I understand why, and I appreciate how easily she shows affection. The death of a loved one will make you appreciate the everyday a little more.
“This is the room?”
“Yep. I like the view.”
She looks out. “It’s very pretty. Happy.” Taking my hand, she gives me a tug. We climb onto the bed that hasn’t been moved out of here and lie next to each other. All giddy, she rolls to face me, and says, “Tell me everything.”
Adjusting onto my side to get comfortable, I’m grinning stupidly, enjoying the fun girl talk. “He’s back for good,” I whisper with all the confidence in my soul.
“How do you know?”
I understand her questioning, glad she cares enough to ask. “Because when he showed up the other night, something was missing. I could see the vacancy in his eyes. And now it’s gone. Filled. It’s hard to explain, but I can see the difference.”
“You were always the difference, Holli. What about all the yucky stuff with New York and Seattle?”
“We may have skipped a few steps in the healing process, but priorities change and this baby has become number one to both of us.”
“Babies have a magical way of healing parts of us that no one else can.” Taking her hand, I squeeze it. But the heaviness never suited her, so she says, “You’re having a boy. I’m a little partial to them myself.”
“I’m so excited. If I can be half the mother you are, my son will be very lucky.”
“You’ll be better. You have this great family. Just appreciate each day and each other. It all kind of flows from there.”
We sit up, a thoughtfulness working its way through the air. Leaning against the headboard, I ask, “Am I weak for taking him back?”
“Taking him back shows your strength. Have you forgiven him?”
“My priorities have changed.” I rub my stomach absentmindedly. “It’s not about who’s right or wrong anymore. It’s about the baby and a future that deserves a chance. And honestly, I don’t want to lose any more time with him. I don’t want to be upset anymore. I don’t want chaos filling my days or my head. I just want to love him, love the calm. I knew what I was getting when we got married. I’m not going to make him apologize for being hurt by life and discount his suffering. So if that’s what forgiving him results in, I forgave him before he walked in that door.”
She laughs to herself and I see her eyes beginning to water. Looking down at her lap, she says, “That’s what love is—chaos and calm, all rolled into one.” Her eyes meet mine just as a tear slips down. I lean my head on her shoulder. “You’ve got so much strength. You’re an amazing woman, Holli.”
“I’m lucky to have amazing friends.”
She leans her head against mine and says, “I feel the same way.” Releasing a breath, she says, “I was just stopping by to check on you, so I better get going.” As we walk to the door, she says, “I know Johnny can be an asshole, but…” She stops, choosing her words carefully before continuing, “I believe you have always been destined to be together. And I also believe you’re the only woman who could bring him back from the hell he was living in.”
Shrugging lightly, I say, “I don’t know. What I do know is that I don’t want to live this life without him, even if he needs time to figure himself out now and again. We all have burdens to bear.”
“You give him the strength he needs, but if you ever need strength, please know you have me to lean on.”
“Thank you.”
Shifting in my seat, I sit across from Dalton at dinner, thinking. It’s been fairly quiet so maybe he’s thinking about things too. Finally, I look up and say, “Why did it take you so long to realize?”
His gaze rises from the steak in front of him and I know he understands that I’m talking about if Sebastian was the father. It’s a topic we’ve steered clear of since his return. He sets his fork down and leans back in his chair. His fingers tap along the wet water glass, the condensation dripping down the sides. “I forgot who you were for a time, who we were. The tabloids altered who I knew you to be, messing with my perception.”
It hurts to hear he was that far gone from me emotionally. Now I wonder where he was when he figured it out. “When did you realize this?”
“I think I was in Australia.”
“What happened in Australia?”
“I was living another day without you in it.” Putting my elbow on the table, I lean my head on my hand and listen as he continues, “I was playing a show and it was going great, then I just looked out and didn’t see you. I couldn’t feel you like I usually can. I sound crazy, but you were always with me even when we were apart. A piece of my soul was absent.” He grins as if he’s embarrassed to say it, but I love that he did.
“If you were missing me so much, why’d you stay away?”
“I didn’t know how to face you, how to fix the mess I’d made. You hated me for what happened in New York. Then Seattle made things worse. Throw in there that I was fucking pissed that you were still spending time with him…have you ever been able to see the mess you’re making of your life, but can’t seem to stop the destruction?”
I wish I could relate, but I can’t. “I’ve never had the luxury.”
He nods, understanding most people never will. “I usually take time away to figure shit out—”
“You don’t get to do that alone anymore. You’re married. You’re going to be a father to this baby. We are a family, a unit now. We stick together no matter what. Can you make that commitment to me?”
“I already have.”
“No. I need more than a piece of paper and a Justice of the Peace witnessing you committing to me. I need to know deep down that you’ll be here no matter what, Dalton.”
There’s sincerity in his voice that can’t escape, a conviction that’s seen in his body. “I will. I’ll show you every day for the rest of my life.”
“I’ll do the same for you.” For him, I will.
“You already do.”
Feeling like today is the day to get it all out, we lie in bed later that night and I ask what I’ve been reluctant to ask since he came back. “Why did you quit the band?”
He doesn’t rush to answer, but when he does, he doesn’t hold back either. “I could say my heart wasn’t in it, but really it was my head. I was standing center stage playing a song and all I could focus on were the mistakes Kaz and Derrick were making. The fans wouldn’t be able to tell, but I could and I couldn’t enjoy what I was doing. And if I’m not enjoying it, why do it anymore?”
I snuggle into his side, rubbing my hand over his abs. I almost feel guilty taking advantage of him like this when he’s sharing his feelings with me… almost. “When it becomes a job, bail?”
“I did my job. I finished the tour. After that I needed a break, distance from the band, from Cory’s death, from life. I needed to figure out what really mattered to me the most and find my way back to it.”
“Those men have been loyal to you, to this band. You know without you, the band doesn’t exist.”
“I know. That’s why it was a hard decision, but it’s for the best.”
“Whose best?” I whisper.
“No one’s in the end.”
“What do you want to do now?”
Sitting up, he angles toward me. “I want to be a good husband and a great father.”
His words and commitment make me happy. “Are you leaving music forever or for now?”
“For now. One day I might record a solo album. I’m not sure.” He confesses, “If you can believe it, I miss those assholes.”
“I know they miss you too.” Sitting up next to him with my back to the headboard, I wring my hands together and ask what I need to know to prepare myself for what he has planned. “If you went solo, would you tour to back the album?”
He’s so relaxed, not holding back at all. “I don’t think so. I’d prefer to play clubs, bars, small venues. Surprise performances to crowds that aren’t there to see The Resistance.”
I snort. “That’s next to impossible to pull off in LA. You can’t even walk down the street or get gas without being stalked.”
“Very true.” He looks at me and I can tell by the line between his eyebrows that whatever he’s about to say is important. “I was on my way to Austin when I called you and your mom answered, telling me you were gone.”
Shocked by his statement, I sit forward and angle toward him. Resting my arms on my belly, I ask, “You were going to Texas?”
“I was going to write or play or both. I needed to get away.”
“You were away already.” Touching his hand, I turn it over and say, “Too far and too long, so why did you need to go?”
A small smile appears and he shifts to get comfortable before it falls away. “I’d had a rough day. A rough few weeks… pretty much every day without you was rough. And then you disappeared.”
I shrug. “I didn’t drop off entirely… obviously, since you found me. How’d you know where I was?”
It occurs to me at the same time he says it, “Rochelle.” Our fingers touch, heat exchanged. “She’s a good friend.”
Looking down, I say, “She was there for me when you weren’t.”
His face contorts, the reality a punch to his chest. “I’m sorry,” he says, the words coming as fast as my apology. “I’m sorry.”
Dalton lifts my chin until I’m looking him in the eyes. “It’s true. Don’t apologize. I should have been the one here for you and I wasn’t, so the blame lies squarely on my shoulders. Not yours.”
Mindlessly dragging my finger up and down his thigh, I say, “You’re here now.” Not wanting to dwell, I poke his leg twice and I touch back on something else he said. “You want to go back to Texas?”
“No. I want us to go to Texas.” My mouth must be hanging open because he touches it and lifts.
“Still?”
“Still. I think it could be good for us to get out of here for awhile. Not forever.”
“What about the baby? What about my company?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t thought it through, but it’s something I’d still like to do.
“I didn’t expect this.” I lay my head on his chest and say, “Let me think about it.”
“That’s all I’m asking. Whatever you decide will be what we do.” His hand strokes my back and he asks, “Are you tired?”
My smile is instant. “A little. A little not.”
“Wanna?”
“Is this how pregnant women get sex?” Sitting up, I mimic his tone and say, “Wanna?”
That makes him chuckle, but his tone turns concerned. “I don’t want to hurt you… or think about a baby being inside you when I am.”
“Oh my God, did you actually just say that?” I burst out laughing.
“Go ahead and laugh it up. But I can’t just bend you over, rip your panties, and fuck you.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re pregnant. We have to be careful.”
“Dalton,” I start, resting my hand on his leg. “Because I’m pregnant doesn’t mean I’m suddenly fragile or more breakable. Why don’t we start slow and go from there, see where the night takes us.”
“What about you on top?”
“I can totally be on top.” His lips are covered by mine and slow goes out the window.