Chapter 10
"We don't have to do that." Colin strokes my red hair, which is spread over the pillow. Lying in my bed, his other hand resting on my stomach.
"Why do I feel like you don't want me?" I sigh in frustration. We've been going out for two months, I'm eighteen, and we haven’t done it yet. Maybe he isn't attracted to me? God knows he has been with the hottest girls in school, and possibly some in college.
"Are you telling yourself stories again?" he raises an eyebrow.
"I'm sorry if my insecurity doesn't appeal to you." I sit up and pull my shirt down.
"Baby, we don't have to hurry." He pulls my hand but I shake off his grip.
"Do you have anyone else?" I stare at him angrily. "Is that it? Do you have someone else you fuck after you get out of here with blue balls that need release?"
Wow. Where did that come from? And why the hell won't he sleep with me?
"Do you think I'm cheating on you?" He leaps out of bed, closes the button on his jeans and pulls his T-shirt from the back of the chair.
"I'm looking for an explanation, Colin." My voice is small. "You say you love me, and you had no trouble sleeping with all the other girls, so why not with me?"
"Because I love you!" he glares at me. "It was easy with the others!"
"And it's hard with me?" I ask indignantly.
"You're a virgin," he tugs at his hair.
"Really? I had no idea."
"I don't want to hurt you," he says, closing his eyes, his shoulders drooping, his stance losing it's familiar arrogance.
"Colin," I mutter. "Someone will have to be my first, don't you want to be that someone?"
"What if you bleed?" He shakes his head as if the thought alone shocks him.
"Then I'll know I'm normal." I try to suppress the thought that I'll bleed.
"What if it won't feel good to you?"
"It will be good." I'm not sure who I'm convincing, him or myself.
"How do you know?" He opens his blue eyes, doesn't take them off me. "How do you know it will be good with me?"
"Because I love you and I trust you, and I don't intend to let someone else be the first."
"You're so sure . . ." he mumbles in what seems like insecurity. I think I'm the only one who knows this side of him.
"Make love to me." My eyes shine and my heart thumps wildly. "I'm ready."
He looks at me for another moment, in hesitation, then reaches back and pulls his shirt and throws it to the floor. I lie down and watch him taking off his jeans, then climbing into the bed in his underwear. His lips find mine immediately, and he kisses me and takes my breath away.
I lie in bed staring at the ceiling. Midnight. Vivian has been asleep for some time now and I'm turning from side to side and finding no rest. What happens now? Where do we go from here? And why of all things am I thinking about our first time?
I have to think about our last morning and the promise he broke. I have to think about the day when he didn't answer my calls, and I made up all those explanations: he must have forgotten it at home, probably forgot to charge it. I have to think about the white dress I tore from myself and the note he left, the hours and days when I thought he would appear and apologize and plead for my forgiveness and explain himself.
But the weeks passed and he had disappeared as if the earth had swallowed him, and my belly continued to grow and grow until I stopped counting the days and stopped waiting.
I reach to my belly, my fingers brushing over the scar. How could you not be there, Colin? How could you let me go through it alone? I close my eyes and try to silence the thoughts that insist on invading my mind and chasing away my sleep.
My mother freezes, her coffee cup midair, as we sit in her kitchen at five in the afternoon. She seems to be making an effort not to let her slumped jaw drop even further. Vivian is at a friend's house and I'm going to pick her up in an hour.
"So…that's pretty much everything we've been through," I finish updating her on all the events that took place last night. Today was probably one of the worst days I’ve had. I walked around restless, trying to fend off all the fears that have arisen in me since Colin left my house.
"And how was seeing him again?" My mother gets over the shock.
Of all the questions, that's the one that interests her the most?
"I leaped into his arms and showered him with kisses, and I told him I always knew he'd come back," I reply sarcastically.
"Elizabeth!"
"How do you think it was?" I roll my eyes. "You should have seen him sitting on the rug with Viv, playing with dolls, as if he'd done it all her life."
"Maybe he won't be a terrible father, after all," she mumbles.
"Come on, he could be on a plane on his way to the other end of the world, and I wouldn't have a clue."
"You'll have to go one day at a time," she uses one of her clichés. "Did you two talk about what happened? What happens next?"
"Barely," I shake my head. I didn't tell her about the meeting at the cafe or the phone call that followed.
"You know he won't make do with this one visit." My mother puts her hand on my shoulder, "It was just the beginning. It sounds like he wants to build a relationship with Vivian."
"We'll see," I shrug.
"Liz, stop fooling yourself, you have to have plans."
"What plans, Mom? How many days a week he can see her?"
"For a start."
"You're not serious, he came back three minutes ago, and you take his side?"
"I'll never take his side, I'm thinking about your daughter," she answers quietly.
"Thank god you remember she's my daughter," I continue. "What are you going to say next, that he's her father, that he has rights?"
"I'm not saying anything, you're jumping to conclusions, and if I were you I'd think good and hard how to tell your daughter her father is back."
"Don't you think you're getting ahead of yourself?"
"How long will you pretend? A month, two months, a year?"
"Until he leaves again?"
"Is that what you really want?" She glares at me hard. "Would you rather he leave and Vivian not have a father?"
"I don't trust him!"
"Of course you don't, and no one blames you, but you have to put your child as your number one priority and not let your fierce hatred blind you!"
"Why do you love him so much?" I stand up angrily, pushing my chair back. "Dad hates him, he warned me, and you . . ." I wave at her.
"I what?" She doesn't get riled "I Should have hated him because he played football in high school?"
"It worked for Dad," I remind her, not that she's forgotten.
"And that would have brought Morgan back?" The words spill out of her in pain. "Would turn the wheel back, if I hated Colin so you weren’t with him? So you could have suffered in the name of Morgan’s memory?"
"Dad expected me to punish myself for something I don't even remember," I almost whisper. "I can barely remember what he looked like."
"Your father didn't want pictures of him anywhere, and I respected his wish."
"He didn't want to talk about him, he didn't want us to mention him, and in the end, I had a brother I hardly knew. I don't remember any other life. From the age of four I was an only child, and I fell in love with the wrong guy."
"Do you think Colin was the wrong guy?"
"I think Dad was right."
"Your father was the one who found Morgan," her voice shudders. "He just wanted to protect you, he never stopped blaming himself for what happened."
"I don't want to upset you," I try to interrupt the conversation.
"You don't upset me," she dismisses my attempt with a wave of her hand. "I live with it every day, every hour, but Colin isn't guilty, you have to talk to him."
"Why are you pressing and pressing and not respecting the fact that I need time?"
"Are you planning on staying alone?"
"What?" I cross my hands, still standing in the middle of the kitchen, unable to move or sit. Is that what matters to her now? That I find someone?
"Alone, for the rest of your life?" She stares at me sternly.
"Of course not," I snort.
"Than what are you waiting for?"
"You know why I'm single." I shrug my shoulders with false indifference.
"You don't trust anyone, and you don't trust yourself to cope with it," she says.
"I think I've proved my coping skills, thank you very much," I defend myself.
"You're twenty six years old, you have no friends, and your life revolves around a four-year-old girl, and working in a furniture store." She hits more than one sensitive point.
"That's what there is." I can't tell her that even the work in the store is about to be history.
"That's what you choose, and the moment will come when it blows up in your face. You'll be resentful and take it out on someone. I'm guessing it'll be on the child."
"What?" I shout in shock.
"If you keep telling yourself that you are putting your life on hold because of her, you'll believe it in the end. Let him be a father, that's all he wants." Her gaze seems to ask wordlessly if any of the things that were said are getting through to me.
"You know what, I don't need this." I grab my bag from the back of the chair and hurry my steps to the door. Damn you, Colin!
"What do you want for dinner?" I ask Vivian as I park the car in front of our door. I turn off the engine and release the seat belt. For the past ten minutes she has not stopped telling me about her afternoon experiences with Tania.
"Pancakes!"
"All right," I open the car door and walk out, wait until Viv comes out of the back and lock the car as she runs forward.
"Mama, look," she pauses at the door, waving a package wrapped in colorful paper. "A gift!"
I approach her, take the gift, and my blood begins to bubble as I read the attached note.
To Theresa, hope you love the new company. Happy Birthday.
He didn't sign. How nice of him, as if I don’t know who it’s from. He's such a manipulator. Oh, he'll hear from me! About this and about the conversation with my mother and about . . . everything else he deserves to hear about!
"What does it say? What did they write?" Viv jumps around. I read the greeting to her with a false smile.
"Who sent it?"
"Santa?" I try to get away with it.
"Mama!" she laughs. "It's from Colin. He has to come over," she announces in her squeaky voice.
"He's busy." I open the door of the house and Viv runs past me, throws the wrapping paper to the floor and sits down on the carpet, staring at her gift.
"It’s . . ." she falters. "It's a singing Elsa, like Tania's!" Her eyes widen in amazement at the doll.
"Is it?" I approach her, pick up the box and curse my ex for the thousandth time. He bought her the Elsa doll whose dress glows, and she sings and talks. If he thinks he can come here and wave his money . . .
"Get her out, Mom!" Viv commands me. I take the box to the kitchen and look for a pair of scissors with which I can . . . stab Colin!
We're going to have a serious conversation about this!
"It was really dirty of you," I shout into the phone five minutes after Vivian falls asleep. I spent the afternoon with ragged nerves, having to listen to Elsa singing again and again. I could barely separate her from Vivian for shower time, and she barely touched dinner.
"I'm sorry, it was impulsive. I saw the doll and . . ."
"And you thought you could buy Vivian's heart for thirty four dollars?" I can't control my anger.
"You know how much it cost," he mumbles.
"Of course I know, I know how much everything she wants costs!" Tears choke my throat.
"It's only thirty four dollars."
"That's what you think. The doll is just the tip of the iceberg, and if I agree to anything she wants, there's no end to it. Thirty four dollars here, ten dollars there, you know how much a trampoline costs these days?"
"I have no idea," he whispers.
"I've been refusing her for weeks, making her promises, and you've just come out of nowhere and . . ."
"Fuck," he curses loudly. "I didn't think."
"No, Colin, you didn't think!" I can't stop the crying. "You left me a note, you just stopped loving me!"
"I never thought you'd stay with me!" he fires back. "I waited for the moment when you’d realize who I was! I was sure it would end when you got your scholarship. You’d leave me!"
"I got the damn scholarship, you piece of shit!" The words stream out before I can stop them.
"What are you talking about?" His voice becomes stiff and cold.
"UT Southwestern Medical School." My heart breaks when I think of my foolish concession.
"Elizabeth, do not tell me . . ." he threatens.
"I was accepted. Full scholarship, as I wanted," I murmur the words in tears.
"You got the scholarship?" he asks hoarsely.
"Yes."
"And you didn't think of telling me?" I hear the accusation in his voice.
"I made my decision."
"To hell with that, Elizabeth! What were you thinking?" He falters in despair. "I'm so pissed at you right now, that was your future!"
"Silly me," I reply sarcastically, "I thought my future was with you."
"Fuck that!"
"It was my decision!" I yell back. "I was the one who chose to stay with you. I loved you more than I knew I could, so excuse me if I was eighteen and I didn't want to lose you!"
Without warning, the conversation ends. He hung up. I lean against the wall and let my hand fall. Defeated and exhausted by the emotional jolts of the past few weeks, I can't stop the overwhelming weeping that threatens to drown me.
My fingers fumble with the white page I hold, as if my brain refuses to accept its authenticity. Sitting on my bed, my heart beats rhythmically. This is what I wanted. This is what I’ve dreamed of, all that I've been working for for years. A full scholarship…and now these doubts won't leave.
Am I really considering giving up all this?
I'm not normal. No one should give up such a golden opportunity. This is my future, but what about my future with Colin?
God, the pain in my chest.
I know it's not that far, but how will we survive it? The distance, the brutal hours, followed by my residency. My future wants to take me in a new direction, one in which Colin has no place.
What did I think would happen?
My life no longer revolves around grades and hours in the library. My life is no longer a regular route from home to school and back. Someone got into it, someone I can't imagine my life without.
No one should know.
They'll say I'm wrong. They won't understand. They can't understand that I won't leave Colin behind. It has to remain my secret. Forever.