Chapter Thirteen
Camille
“Thank you for meeting with us on such short notice,” I said, sitting down at Dr. Garcia's office.
It felt weird being at the clinic and not seeing Preston. It also felt weird being in the clinic knowing what I'd done in the examination room with him. But, it also felt nice to be in the familiar office of my regular doctor.
Dr. Garcia smiled, shaking both of our hands, totally and completely oblivious to the problems and drama within our relationship. To her, we were just a normal couple trying to conceive. I didn't mention Jessica, neither did Stephen. No need to, it would only make things awkward.
We sat down, and I felt like the office was suffocating me. Earlier in the week, I'd come in for some tests, as did Stephen. He sat in the seat beside me with a smug look on his face. The look of a man who thinks he walks on water and can do no wrong. He was certain the problems existed with me, and not with him. I wanted to smack him across the face so hard, it wiped that smug smirk off his lips permanently.
When he caught me staring at him though, he reached for my hand and gave it a squeeze I'm sure he meant to be reassuring. It only managed to feel condescending. The physical equivalent of a politician saying, “I feel your pain.” I had to admit, feeling my hand in his just didn't feel right anymore. It was like two pieces that didn't fit together in any way, shape, or form. It felt wrong on so many levels after being with Preston. But, that was the past.
I was going to try to move forward with things in my life. I was going to chart my course forward on my own terms. I was going to move on from the past.
Dr. Garcia started right into the medical talk – it was one thing I always liked about her, she didn't waste any time and got right to the meat of the matter. She looked through the file and read over the results – most of which made absolutely no sense to me.
“Camille, you've expressed concerns that you couldn't get pregnant?” she asked.
“Yes, I'm afraid with my history, I might be infertile.”
I spoke the words so quietly, I feared she might not hear them. I almost felt like if I didn't say them out loud, in a strong, clear voice, they couldn't come true. That if I whispered them, some small spark of hope, the tiniest ember, could be kept alive.
Dr. Garcia nodded her head and stared down at her files, a smile spreading across her face.
“Well, I have some good news, which may come as a surprise, all things considered,” she said. “You're definitely not infertile. You show no actual signs of cysts, and all your hormonal levels are normal. Everything looks fine on your end.”
“No,” I muttered. “That can't be right. I –”
Dr. Garcia chuckled, resting her hands in front of her on the desk. She gave me a smile that was warm and sincere. Kind. Happy even.
“Camille, I have more news for you,” she said. “Your pregnancy test came back positive.”
“Come again?” Stephen asked, leaning forward.
I'd heard the words myself, but I couldn't quite believe them. They didn't seem real. This couldn't be real, it had to be a dream. Or some trick my mind was playing on me. Surely, I couldn't have heard what I thought I'd just heard.
“Yes, Camille,” she said, seeing the look of stunned disbelief on my face. “You're going to have a baby.”
I tuned them out, processing what I'd just been told. I was vaguely aware of Stephen arguing with Dr. Garcia, but I was stuck in my head, which was a maelstrom of thought and emotion – and even though I was notoriously bad with numbers, I was busy doing the math.
“How far along am I?” I asked softly.
“Only a couple of weeks. You're very early, but it showed up on the blood test,” she said.
Her smile wavered a bit as she turned to Stephen. His face darkened with anger and outrage. When he turned to me, his eyes narrowed, and his jaw clenched. He seemed to automatically know what I was only just now coming around to realizing.
A few weeks. Right after he'd informed me that he'd cheated and was having a baby. Stephen and I hadn't been intimate in a long while before that. He'd been too busy with Jessica apparently, and I assumed we were just taking a break for a bit. If I'd been a few months along, then yes, it would be Stephen's, but as it stood, given the timing of it all...
“Oh God,” I said.
Dr. Garcia was reading the results of Stephen's tests, but I only picked up the very end, “I'm sorry, Stephen, it appears that your sperm count is very low and weak,” she said. “And normally I'd give you less than a zero-point-one percent chance of having children of your own, but I guess miracles can happen. So, congratulations are in order.”
She looked at me knowingly, and I knew that expression all too well. She knew my secret. She knew this baby wasn't Stephen's. It couldn't be Stephen's. He's the one who hadn't been able to have kids all this time. He was the one who was broken. Not me.
It was all I could do to not jump up right there, do a little dance, and scream, “in your face!”
“There must be a mistake,” Stephen yelled.
He snatched the files off of Dr. Garcia's desk, rifling through the paper work and test results. He tried to read them over, but it proved futile. He growled and slammed the files back down on her desk, unable to make heads or tails of them.
He looked at Dr. Garcia with narrowed eyes and spoke in a low, menacing tone. “Low, weak sperm count, huh?” he sneered. “Yeah, well I got another woman pregnant, so I can't be infertile. I knocked up two women in less than a few months’ time –”
“Stephen, my baby isn't yours,” I said quietly.
“What did you say?” he asked, turning to me.
I turned to look directly at my ex, and felt a smile forming on my lips. It was the wrong time to be happy, but I couldn't help it. The look on his face, the look of absolute shock and betrayal – and, of course, the knowledge that this was his fault, all this time – filled me with more joy than it should have. Of course, I was also happy to hear I was pregnant, though, the reality of that hadn't fully sunk into me just yet. That was going to take a minute to process.
“This baby can't be yours, Stephen,” I said. “When's the last time we were intimate?”
“Three months ago,” he said proudly, as if it were a night to remember – it wasn't. “It was on our anniversary.”
“But you didn't finish, remember?” I said. “Too much alcohol? We went to bed early.”
He looked stunned but screwed up his face and kept thinking. Looking for some way to prove that the child in my belly was his. But, if he'd just do the math himself – and Stephen was very good with numbers – he'd have to realize he just admitted we'd last had intimate contact three months ago. I was only a few weeks along. The math just didn't add up to support his belief that he was the father of my child. Period. Cut and dried. Black and white.
“And even if I was pregnant from that night, I'm clearly not three months along,” I said, rubbing it in just for good measure. That's when the reality of it all hit me though. “Oh God, I'm pregnant. I never thought –”
My smile grew wider as did the fluttering in my heart and stomach.
“If not mine, then who's is it?” he growled.
Stephen's face was bright red now, his eyes filled with rage. I was thankful to not be alone with him in that moment. Even Dr. Garcia seemed to be growing more cautious. Her hand hovered near the phone on her desk, likely to call security in case he got out of hand.
“An old friend,” I said.
I looked over at Dr. Garcia and couldn't keep the smile off my lips. I couldn't admit that this child very likely could have been conceived right there, in her clinic, by one of her doctors though. I wasn't going to rain hell down on Preston like that.
“Someone who came back into my life after a long time apart,” I said.
Stephen slammed his fists onto the Dr. Garcia's desk, making her jump. His face was growing darker, the rage seeming to increase. He looked like he was on the verge of losing control.
“You filthy fucking whore –”
Dr. Garcia stood up, and she was a tall woman, but was nothing compared to Stephen. He easily outweighed her by a hundred pounds. Yet she had a commanding, authoritative presence about her. When she spoke, people listened. This was not a woman to be trifled with.
“You need to get out of here this instant, Stephen,” she said, her voice firm. “Leave now, or I'll call security.”
He stood up to leave, knocking over a chair as he left. When he reached the door, he stopped and turned around, looking over at Dr. Garcia. In a voice that was suddenly low and quavering, all of the bluster and bravado gone, he asked her a question softly.
“Infertile?” he asked. “You're sure?”
“Positive. You're shooting blanks, Stephen,” she said, her voice rising. “Now get out of this clinic. I never want to see you here again.”
“But Jessica –” he muttered.
I remembered what Liv had said early on, and giggled as I shouted out to him, “Sounds like your sidepiece had a sidepiece of her own.”
He slammed the door, leaving me and Dr. Garcia alone. Once he was gone, she burst out laughing and then apologized for laughing. I joined in though, and we both started giggling like maniacs. Not the most professional of behaviors, but it broke the tension that had saturated the room not moments before.
“I'm happy for you, Camille,” she said at last. “I've been seeing you for years now, and while this is the first time I met your fiancé –”
“Ex-fiance,” I corrected her.
“Yes, of course,” she said, clearing her throat, “your ex fiancé does not seem like a very nice person. I'm not sure what you saw in him, to be honest. I'm just glad that your child won't have to grow up with that sort of influence.”
I sighed. “Trust me, you're not the first person to tell me that,” I said. “Well, not that last bit, but you know what I mean.”
Her smile was beautiful and sincere. “I most certainly do.”
***
I left Dr. Garcia's office with the news of my pregnancy swirling around in my head. Adrenaline was still pumping through my veins and disbelief continued to grip my mind. I was still shocked, unable to believe that there was a life growing inside of me.
It was only a few weeks along, but it explained the throwing up. I'd just been assuming it was stress of everything I'd been going through lately. In the hallway outside of Dr. Garcia's office, I looked around for Preston, afraid we'd run into each other. I breathed a sigh of relief as I rounded the corner and stepped into the waiting room without having crossed paths with him. This was not the place for us to have that kind of conversation, and I was far too distracted to talk about anything else.
I was pregnant, but with Preston's baby. He was married, or at least had a woman in his life, and a son. I wasn't sure what I was going to do with that. I had no clue at all. I walked to my car, feeling a surge of emotions that ran the gamut, flowing from happy and ecstatic, to terrified, to downright depressed. This was not what I had pictured for my life, not at all. I didn't want to be a single mother. I wanted to have a family with a man I loved.
Yet, the very idea that I had a life growing inside of me, a child that would be mine – I suddenly couldn't imagine not having it. No matter what happened between Preston and me, I would love our child. I would raise my child to be a good, decent, and kind person. I was going to be fine on my own. My career was going well, the company was flourishing, and I didn't need help from anyone. Dammit, Preston. Why did you have to turn out to be a pig too?
We could have made it work together. We could have made it work so damn well. But, you had to go and cheat on your wife with me. You couldn't have been honest with me from the get go. You couldn't have kept it in your pants until you figured things out in your own relationship.
Then again, had he done that, I might not be pregnant right now, and that, in and of itself was a blessing worth any amount of heartache and pain.
Maybe it was the hormones raging through my body, but I wanted him to know. No, I needed him to know. I also wanted his wife to know that she'd been cheated on, like I had been. It was only right. She should know her husband wasn't faithful to her. She should know that I was carrying his child. Or, maybe I was just overly emotional, pissed off, and wanted to inflict some pain onto Preston like I'd inflicted pain onto Stephen. I wanted him to know and I wanted him to suffer for what he'd done.
I had no concrete plan. No solid idea. It was all just a jumbled mess of thought and feeling in my head. But, I found myself driving toward Preston's house. It was Saturday and I remember he'd said he rarely worked weekends. Only Dr. Garcia did that – and only on special cases. Like mine. Which meant he'd be home.
I wondered if his wife would be home as well? Maybe the three of us could sit down over a cup of coffee and have a chat. A thin, cruel smile touched my lips and I was suddenly shocked at the petty vindictiveness that was surging within me. I parked along the street, and stared at Preston's beautiful, perfect, All-American home. Clean, white and with a wrap-around porch. Everything I'd ever dreamed about in a house. Enough space to raise a family, and judging by the looks of it, a lot of outdoor space as well. I got out of the car and started to cross the street. I heard music coming from their house as I approached and saw an archway of balloons stretched over the walkway that led to the front door. There was also a bouquet of balloons attached to the mailbox and also a sign posted out front.
Welcome to Carter's Birthday Party!
I stopped in the grass and read the sign over and over again. Carter must be his son, I assumed. That explained the noise coming from the backyard and the Iron Man cake. I stood there for a long time, knowing this was a bad idea, and tried to talk myself out of it. I shouldn't show up at his son's birthday party. No matter how mad I might be, I couldn't ruin his kid's birthday. That would just be the ultimate dick move.
I turned on my heel and started toward my car, fresh tears welling in my eyes. I'd made it to the sidewalk in front of Preston's house when a voice called from the doorway.
“Camille?”
I turned, my eyes shimmering, my stomach churning. I froze, debating whether I should just book it toward my car like I hadn't heard him, or stand and face the music. I didn't have much time to actually have the debate with myself because a female voice followed right behind his.
“Preston, who's that?”
Her voice was shrill and angry, and I flinched when she spoke. I turned, slowly, and met Preston's eyes. His face was red, and he was not happy to see me as he marched toward me. The petite blonde was on his heels, a deep scowl etched upon her face.
“Camille? What the hell are you doing here?” he asked.
My gaze moved between Preston and the woman, and I couldn't find my voice.
“Preston, explain yourself,” the woman said, crossing her arms in front of her.
“Melody, please – give me a second, will you?”
I stood there taking in Preston's angry gaze and the woman’s even angrier one. Anger, dark and abiding, rose up within me. I wasn't the one in the wrong here. I'd done nothing wrong at all. As the silence between the three of us deepened, the anger inside of me became more pronounced.
Maybe I shouldn't have come, but this wasn't my fault. I did nothing wrong. It was Preston who'd done something wrong – both to me, and to his wife. Between Stephen, and now Preston, I'd taken enough shit and wasn't going to put up with it anymore. No, if I was going to suffer for his sins, I was going to make him bleed for them.
“So this is Melody?” I asked, my voice carrying a hard edge to it. “Your wife, I take it?”
I turned to Melody and my eyes softened. She looked at me curiously, almost oblivious to what had been happening in her husband's life. In her life. Well, like it or not, right or wrong, she was about to find out.
“I'm so sorry to break this to you,” I said. “And on your son's birthday nonetheless. But, your husband is having an affair. With me.”
“Wait, who are you?” Melody said, she looked at Preston. “How does she know Thomas?”
“Thomas?” I stammered. “No, I'm talking about Preston. We've slept together a few times, and well – I hate to break it to you this way, but I'm pregnant. By him. I'm having your husband's child.”
“Camille,” Preston reached for my arm, his voice was softer and gentler now.
“I'm pregnant and it's your husband's child, Melody.”
“Wait,” Melody said, sounding calmer than I expected considering the circumstances. “I'm confused.”
“Melody, let me have a moment with her, please?” Preston asked.
Melody nodded, but then pointed a finger at Preston. “If you screw up Carter's birthday with one of your little –” she trailed off before insulting me, but I had an idea what she wanted to say. “Just clean up this mess, okay? And get back to the party before he asks for you.”
Melody stomped off toward the front door, and both of us stood in silence, staring at one another. “Camille, come here,” he said, reaching for me.
I remained where I was and didn't let him embrace me. As hard as it was, I resisted the urge to let him wrap me up in those big, strong arms of his. I resisted the urge to melt into his body and seek the comfort I needed in that moment. His blue eyes no longer looked angry, instead he looked sad.
“I didn't come here for pity, Preston. I just thought your wife should know the truth,” I said, staring down at my feet.
“Ex-wife, Camille. Melody and I are divorced. Have been for five years now,” he said.
“What?” I said, feeling an electric jolt through my body. “You mean –”
“That I wasn't cheating on anyone? Yeah, I'm not like that. I wouldn't do that,” he said. “I would have hoped that you would have trusted me more than that.”
I looked up into his eyes again, and there was so much hurt, so much pain. All caused by me. It reminded me of the day I told him there was no way I would give up my dream of New York City, not even for him. He took my hand in his.
I wanted to take his pain away. I'd take it onto myself if I could. Knowing that I'd wounded him so deeply, my heart started to break. I didn't know if there was anything I could do to fix it, to fix us, but I was damn sure going to try. I wasn't going to let him walk out of my life the way I'd walked out of his all those years ago. I just wasn't.
“I'm sorry, Preston,” I said. “It's just – you never told me you had a son. I guess I just assumed –”
“First mistake is assuming without asking,” he said. “Yes, Melody and I have a son, Carter. But we're divorced, and she's since re-married to a man named Thomas. Come inside, you can meet him yourself. As long as Melody hasn't slaughtered him for thinking he was having an affair.”
I cringed. “Oh no, I didn't –”
“I didn't tell you about Carter yet because I wasn't sure how to. You were dealing with your own stuff. You had enough on your mind and heart when it came to having kids, and it just didn't seem right to flaunt my child in your face,” he said. “Not only that, I feel like I've been a pretty shitty dad and talking about him is hard at times. But believe me, I wanted to. I figured it was only a matter of time before I introduced you two. I just had a feeling that you two would really hit it off. In some ways, he actually reminds me of you a bit.”
“Wow,” I said, my head still spinning from such a dizzying turn of events. “I feel like an asshole now. I'm really sorry, Preston. I just didn't think. Didn't communicate. And I should have.”
Preston lifted my chin up and kissed me, stroking my cheek with his thumb as our lips melted together. Feeling him against me like that revived something inside of me. The anger evaporated like a fog bank and I was left feeling happy once more.
When he pulled away, he said, “I forgive you,” he said. “We'll just blame it on pregnancy hormones.”
“Yeah, about that –” I said. “If you don't want any more children, I'm happy to raise the child by myself –”
“Camille, I'm going to sound like a jackass right now, but shut up,” he said, laughing. “There's no way I'm going to let you raise that baby by yourself. That's our child. We're going to raise it as our child.”
“I thought you didn't really want kids?”
“I already have one,” he said with a wink. “And no, I never said that I didn't want more. I said I was okay with whatever happened with you – kids or not. Personally, now that you're standing right here before me and I know you're pregnant with my child, I'm a little excited by the prospect.”
I sidled up against his body, resting my head on his shoulder. His arms enveloped me, and I felt like I was in heaven. He kissed the top of my head and let out what sounded like a contented sigh.
“Since we're going to be have a family of our own,” he said softly. “It's about time you met the rest of the gang – including Carter.”
With wide eyes, I started to protest, but Preston was already leading me toward the backyard by the hand. As we turned the corner, I saw Melody talking to an older man. She gave him a quick kiss before making her way over to us. Her face was not happy as she stared me down.
“Do you think it's a good idea to bring her around Carter so soon?” Melody asked.
“Melody, this is Camille – someone I've known and loved since high school. We just lost our way for a bit. But, we've found our way back to each other, and since she's going to be in our lives for a very long time, I think this is the perfect time to introduce her to Carter. Name me a better birthday present,” he said and then turned to me. “Camille, this is my ex-wife, Melody.”
Melody's expression was blank, though her eyes were wide. “This is Camille?” she asked, a strange, almost reverent tone in her voice. “As in, the Camille?”
“Wait,” I said. “You've heard about me?”
She shook her head, but there was a smile on her lips nonetheless. “I'll be – well, this is a surprise,” she said. “As much as I despised any mention of you while I was with Preston, now that we're divorced, I am glad that the two of you were able to reunite. At last. At least now I know, he's going to be happy.”
Preston kissed my hand as he whispered, “Me too.”
She leaned in closer, and asked, “Forgive me for being so invasive, but did I hear you right out there?” she asked. “You're having a baby? Did you really say that or was I hearing things?”
I nodded, and Preston pulled me into him. “We are,” he said, giving my hand a gentle squeeze. “Carter is going to have a little brother or sister.”
“Speaking of the devil,” Melody said as a little boy rushed over to us.
His hair was wild and unkempt, and except for the brown eyes, and shaggier hair, he was the spitting image of Preston. Melody placed her hands on his shoulders as Preston introduced me to his son.
“This is my girlfriend, Camille,” he said. “Camille, this is my son, Carter.”
“Happy birthday,” I said, smiling so much my face hurt. “Seven is such a wonderful age.”
“Thank you! Hey, do you like comic books?” he asked me.
I looked at Preston, “Is this a trick question? Of course I do!” I said. “I used to create my own back in high school.”
“You can draw?” Carter said, his voice growing excited.
“Yeah, I'm kind of an artist,” I said, chuckling.
“That's so cool,” Carter said. “Can you show me how to draw like they do in the comic books sometime?”
“I'd love to,” I said.
Carter gave me a smile before he turned and hurried off to join a group of kids, all the while shouting and jumping.
“This is the best birthday ever!” I heard him say. “I'm going to be a comic book artist!”
Melody laughed. “I guess you were right, Preston.”
“I'm right about many things,” he replied, a soft grin touching his lips. “But what is it this time?”
“Kids really are easy to please,” she said. “And maybe, just maybe, I did go a little nuts with the birthday party planning. But, they're only little for so long.”
She watched her son jumping around the to the band, and there was a bittersweet smile on her face. I looked over at Preston and saw that same wistful, bittersweet expression on his face too. The way they watched their son, I could see the pure love and adoration in their eyes. Despite the unusual circumstances of their life, they were making it work and were doing right by their son. Which told me Preston was going to do right by our child.
“The party is beautiful,” I said. “Gosh, I'd have loved something like this as a kid. Heck, I'd probably like it now.”
Melody turned to me and smiled, giving me a once over before turning back to Preston.
“I think I like this one,” she said before walking away. “You need to keep her. She's good for you.”
“I plan on it,” he said.
Once it was just the two of us, set off a bit from the children, I looked at him and said, “Girlfriend, huh? So I guess I got upgraded, finally?”
“What do you mean, finally?” he asked with a chuckle. “It's only been a few weeks –”
“More like over ten years,” I laughed. “Preston Winters finally got the balls to ask me out. Not that you really asked me. But then, you never really asked me the first time either. It's kind of a thing with you, apparently.”
“Oh, I apologize,” he said, clearing his voice and turning to face me, pulling me against him. “Camille O'Hare, will you be my girlfriend, at long last?”
“Yes,” I said, standing on my tip-toes to kiss him. “A million times, yes.”