THIRTY-FOUR
first loves
ansley
When I found out I was pregnant with Caroline, it had been difficult to tell Jack good-bye. When I found out I was pregnant with Sloane, it had been inconceivable. Telling him good-bye felt like telling my heart to stop pumping blood. How could I live without him? How could I continue with my life, put one foot in front of the other, make beds, and brush tiny teeth like nothing had ever happened? When I found out I was pregnant with Caroline, I had felt myself slipping back into something with Jack. When I found out I was pregnant with Sloane, I had already fallen.
Our weekends together had become all I could think about, though I feel like I did a good job pretending our life at home was business as usual. And the strange part was that I still loved Carter. I still looked forward to his coming home at night and kissing him good-bye in the morning. I still loved the way he held my hand, the way his arm felt around my shoulder, the way Caroline squealed when he tossed her into the air. I knew with everything inside of me he was the man I was supposed to be with.
I had tossed and turned, my stomach in knots, the nausea more from having to tell Jack good-bye than from the morning sickness. This was a man whose kiss I would lie awake in bed at night craving, a man whose arms around me felt so right and so natural that I couldn’t imagine I had ever let them go. But, at the same time, I knew how incomplete my life would have been without children, children Jack didn’t want. So I knew I had made the right choice.
When I walked through his front door that morning, Jack knew before I even told him. He swept me up in his arms and kissed me, and when he pulled back to look at me, he said, “Oh no. Please tell me you aren’t.”
I shrugged. It was a terrible way to feel. As much as I had hoped and pined for another baby to love and as happy as I was about it, being pregnant with Sloane meant saying good-bye to Jack.
He sat down on the couch then and pulled me into his lap, my legs up on the cushion, our faces close together.
“I’ve thought about it so much, Ansley,” he said, a fervor in his voice I knew instinctively was reserved for me. “I know what I said all those years ago, but I want this now. I want you and Caroline and this new baby.” He paused and looked me straight in the eye when he said, “I know I said this last time, and I couldn’t convince you. But this time I think you feel what I feel, Ansley. I know you do. I know you love me and you feel like you can’t live without me. I want you to come here, with me. I want to marry you. I want to be a family.”
I was drawn into his words so completely that I could almost envision myself saying yes—until he said the word family, and I remembered what I was really doing here, what this decision would cost me. Carter and I had longed to be a family and, yes, it was because of Jack, but that was what we had become. It was Carter who was there when Caroline had her first fever, who had stayed up all night with me, making sure she was breathing and checking on her every half hour to make sure the Tylenol was working. It was Carter whom I had walked down the aisle to, bought my first house with, and fought over sconces and doorknobs with.
I loved Jack. I would always love him. But I couldn’t bear the thought of breaking up my family. And what would happen if I left Carter? He’d never get to see Caroline again? She wasn’t biologically his, after all. I couldn’t break him like that. He was her father. I wouldn’t take that away from him.
I laid my head on Jack’s shoulder, my face in his neck. I knew the scent of him so well. I breathed him in, knowing it would be the last time. It had to be the last time. I steeled everything inside of me that felt like it was crumbling. I had to be strong. Strong for Caroline, strong for this new baby, strong for Carter. My husband. The man I had pledged my life to.
Jack pulled me closer to him, and I knew he could feel my tears on his neck. I knew he wanted to protect me and love me. But I would not put my children or my husband through that.
When I made love to Jack that night, I knew it was the last time. I slipped out in the middle of the night, leaving him a note.
It was fitting that it was raining that night as I drove away from Jack’s house, away from Jack, away from a man who made me feel like I was perfect, beautiful, and special all at once. I was sobbing so hard I had to pull over. Walking away from him was, without a doubt, the hardest choice I ever made, and I’m almost embarrassed to say it was one of the greatest losses I’ve ever grieved. He wasn’t dead, but he was dead to me. I had to say good-bye. I had to walk away knowing I could never talk to him, see him, feel his lips on mine again. I had to shut the door completely because I knew if I left it open even a crack, I was in danger of sacrificing the wonderful life I had for the longing for one I didn’t.
It took a year for me to start to feel like I could breathe again, a year until I could convince myself I had done the right thing in walking away. After that, I still thought of Jack, still longed to tell him something funny, and still wished I could have him in my life. But this was the life I chose, I reminded myself. So I chose to be happy in it. I hoped that, wherever he was, Jack was happy too.
I never would have let myself imagine there would come a day when I would find myself with Jack once again.
On our quiet street in Peachtree Bluff, the morning after my mother’s funeral, waking up with him for the first time in decades, I remembered that letter as well as the day I had written it.
Dear Jack,
Please don’t hate me for leaving you like this. If you do, it can’t be any more than I hate myself. Please don’t doubt how indescribably much I love you. Please don’t doubt how unfathomably difficult this decision is for me. In losing you, I feel like I am losing a part of myself, one of my very favorite parts, in fact. But to tear life apart for Caroline and this new baby is too big a responsibility for me to bear. I can’t put them through that.
I have hoped there was a way I could still have you in my life, that maybe we could talk from time to time or even visit every now and again. But I know where that would lead, and it would only end in heartbreak. For now, I have to close this door or I will not be able to follow through with my decision. And it feels intolerably selfish that I am the one to make it with no agreement from you, but I believe in my heart that you understand.
Thank you, Jack. Thank you for my children. Thank you for loving me enough to let me go. Thank you for loving me enough to let me be the mother I need to be. There will never be a day I don’t think of you. There will never be a day when the thought of your lips on mine will not cross my mind.
You will forever remain in my heart and my memory. I wish with all my might that you will find a woman who loves you as much as I do and cherishes you for all you are the way I do. While it is hard for me to imagine anyone could ever love you as much as I do, I hope that for you all the same.
All my love,
Ansley
I LOOKED UP AT him. He was smiling down on me, and I felt the tears roll down my cheeks.
“Oh, Ans, no. What’s the matter?”
“I feel so awful,” I said. “I just left you in the middle of the night.”
He smiled at me sadly.
“That was one of the worst nights of my entire life,” I continued. “I will never be able to describe to you how empty I felt writing that letter, leaving you behind. But I knew it was the only way.”
He nodded. “Reading that letter the next morning felt impossible but also, in a way, poignant.”
“Were you mad at me?” I snuggled in close to him, for once not longing for my youth but grateful we were here now.
“It’s hard to explain,” he said, kissing the top of my head. “I was mad at you, but I understood your decision. Even when I was begging you to stay, I knew you had to leave.” He shrugged.
He was right. “Plus, the mess we had made was too big to clean up.”
He kissed me on the lips this time. “It’s a smaller mess now, Ans. It’s a mess we can manage.”
I gazed up at the stunning canopy bed with the ethereal white curtains I had copied from Phoebe Howard. The walls were a light gray, on the lavender side so they felt warm, not steely. It probably wasn’t a color I would have chosen for Jack the bachelor. It was a color I had chosen for me, a color I had chosen for our life together. As I lay there, feeling totally at peace, I finally admitted that, all this time, I had been decorating this house for me.
I could feel Jack’s eyes on me, and I smiled at him and rolled over.
“What?” I asked.
“I’m just thinking what a treat it is to wake up beside you.”
I smiled back. “The feeling is mutual.” I glanced at the alarm clock on his bedside table. I most certainly did not approve that Sony with the radio for the design scheme. I had about a half hour until the girls woke up. I had thought ahead enough to bring my exercise clothes with me so I could come in after they were all awake and act as though I just got back from a walk. I thought I was quite sneaky.
I groaned. “I need to get back over there before the girls get suspicious.” Oh, the girls. They were all grown up now. But I still needed to protect them. I still needed to set a good example.
“Speaking of the girls . . .” Jack said, but then he trailed off.
“What?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Nothing. Never mind.”
I crossed my arms. “Jack.”
“I don’t want to mess up this tentative hold I have on you,” he said.
I leaned over and kissed him. “It’s not tentative, Jack. It’s permanent. And that means we tell each other the truth and ask the hard questions.”
“OK, if you say so,” he said. “So here’s what I want to know: Why did you never tell the girls? I mean, it’s not like you would have to tell them the whole truth.”
Ah, yes. The big question. Might as well go ahead and get it all out there in the open. I had grappled with telling the girls for their entire lives.
“It’s tricky,” I said. “It’s not like an adoption where you’re meeting your birth parents, someone who had you and gave you up. In their minds, I don’t even know the man. In their minds, their father is Carter. The other half of their genes is a test tube.”
He nodded. “I guess I get that. Do you ever want to tell them?”
I laughed. “Oh, Jack. I’ve wanted to tell them a million times. Of course, for years I never thought it would be possible. Carter didn’t want to know who you were, so the girls certainly couldn’t. But then once he found out . . .”
Sloane had developed a fascination with her biological father when she was studying genetics. She pushed us to find her father, and Carter and I had agreed. It was incredibly difficult for him, of course, because he had found out that Jack was Sloane and Caroline’s father, inadvertently, when we ran into him on the dock in Peachtree Bluff. Jack’s shock over my Emerson-pregnant belly told Carter everything he never wanted to know. Carter was terrified Jack would take over a piece of his role in their lives. Carter knew Jack. He knew he was a wonderful man, and in some ways, that made things even harder for him. I had known for years that Jack wanted to know the girls, so I knew he would be thrilled. I still don’t know how she did it, but Caroline talked Sloane out of it. To be fair to both of them, they had to agree. They had the same father and they knew it. You couldn’t tell one and keep it from the other.
“Then we decided,” I said, “we would tell them when Caroline graduated. We didn’t want her going out into the world and looking for you. But Carter hadn’t been dead a year when she graduated, and that seemed like a terrible time.”
For years after Carter’s death, I grappled with whether to introduce the girls to Jack and let them know the truth. It felt like a cheap ploy, a Band-Aid for their suffering. You lost your real dad, but here’s a replacement one—and only for Sloane and Caroline, not Emerson.
“There were so many times I decided to sit down and tell them, and then something would always happen. Caroline was getting married; Adam was getting deployed. Emerson was feeling low, and I thought this would intensify it and make her feel distant from her sisters, like we had this whole family she wasn’t a part of.” I sighed. “Now, I can argue it’s a bad time because Adam is MIA, but there’s always going to be something. It’s always going to be a terrible time. So I think I should just tell them. Alone. And then hope they will come to you.”
Jack shot up in bed. “Ansley, no.”
I was incredulous. “What do you mean, no? I thought this was what you wanted.”
He rubbed his head with his hands. “I do want them to know eventually. I really do.” He pulled me in close to him. “But I just got you, Ansley. I can’t lose you. If they aren’t happy with this news, then it will drive you away from me again.”
I had spent years grappling with Jack’s role in my life. His contribution to it had weighed on me for decades and shaped everything I felt about myself. It had taken me what seemed like a lifetime to get here, but I couldn’t see myself walking away from him now, no matter what. I told him that and then said, “I guess I think, what’s the worst that can happen? They know they were from a sperm donor. Besides that one time, they’ve never asked about it.”
“What if they don’t want to know?” Jack asked.
I answered instantly, as if my mouth was on autopilot. “Then we have to respect that.”
He nodded. “Let’s wait a little while, OK?”
“OK.” I smiled. I thought it was sweet that he was concerned and, really, I’d waited thirty-four years. What was a few more weeks?
Then he leaned over and kissed me. “Let’s do this whole morning over again,” he whispered. Then he kissed me again. “Let’s pretend we are long-lost first loves finding one another again and none of this is even a concern.”
As he kissed me again, I wondered who in the world wouldn’t be happy to have a man so kind and generous as their father.
It wouldn’t be much longer until I found out.