Chapter 23
Rena
This was too much for me to deal with. What the hell was I supposed to do? I wasn’t ready for a baby. I wasn’t ready to be pregnant. And what about Brent? He was stuck with me forever if I kept the baby. He would have to be in my life somehow. That was unfair on him, especially after he’d said he would call it quits at some point.
Adoption seemed like a better choice. But how could I do that when I had been adopted myself and knew what it felt like? And now that Zoe wanted to meet me, it made it all that much worse. The system had taken three sisters away from each other, and now I wanted to put my baby in the same system?
“I can’t do this,” I said again. “I can’t raise a baby.”
“I’ll make sure you have more than enough money,” Brent said. “Anything you need, the best money can buy. And the same for the baby.”
I was suddenly angry. The anger replaced the shock and the panic, and I welcomed it with open arms. I understood the anger. I could deal with it better.
“Get out,” I said coldly.
“What?”
“I said get out,” I said again, raising my voice a little. “I don’t want to see your face. Get the fuck out of my house.”
Brent shook his head slowly back and forth, a little stunned.
“I don’t understand,” he said. “I did nothing but be there for you.”
The anger built inside of me until it was a raging storm. Everything I had been struggling with boiled up, and I couldn’t keep a lid on it anymore. I had bottled it all up, and now it was going to explode.
“When are you going to realize that I don’t want your damn money?” I shouted. “Fuck, it’s all you ever talk about. I don’t want your money. This wasn’t some ploy to force you to stay in my life.”
“I didn’t say it was,” Brent said. He was surprisingly calm, considering my outburst. “But I want to help you.”
“If you want to help me, get the hell out of my life,” I snapped. “I work damn hard, and I can afford to pay for my own mistakes. I don’t need a Good Samaritan like you to come and save me.”
“Rena, you’re pulling this out of proportion.”
He was right, of course. I was pulling it out of proportion a little. But I was so angry, and if there was one thing a man should never say to a woman, it was that.
“I am not overreacting,” I cried. “But I feel like you’re trying to buy me. I won’t be bought.”
Brent was getting angry now. He had finally lost control.
“Is that what you think this is? That you’re my possession somehow because of what we’re doing?”
“Well, what else can it be? Don’t tell me you summoned me to Boston because you knew those investors were going to be so full of it.”
Brent swallowed, and I knew he knew I was right. He had taken me to Boston to sleep with me. Holly had been right. I was a booty call.
“Please, leave,” I said again. I pointed to the bedroom door. I wanted him to go away. I wanted him to leave me alone.
“Let’s talk about this,” Brent said.
I shook my head. “I’m done talking.” I turned around and stormed to my bathroom and closed the door. Brent called my name once or twice, but I refused to answer him. He gave up fairly quickly. I knew I was being ridiculous, but I didn’t know what to do. I was pregnant and freaked-out, and locking myself in the bathroom created the illusion that the real world couldn’t reach me while I was in here.
I stayed in the bathroom for the longest time. I cried. I was angry. I wanted to break things. I replayed our conversation in my head over and over. I couldn’t believe he still thought this was about his cash. He was so stuck on his money he didn’t see anything else. That bothered me. How could I think about building a life with that kind of man?
I hadn’t thought about it until now. He was only supposed to have been a wild fling. But now that I was pregnant, I thought about it.
And I wasn’t sure how I could do it.
I cared for Brent. Maybe I even loved him. I couldn’t deny that, despite his pride and his ego and his obvious sense of self. But I couldn’t keep doing this to myself. I had to save myself, put myself first, and make choices that would work for me.
And the baby, if I decided to keep it.
God, what was I going to do? Brent would never believe that I wasn’t after his money, that I would want him only because I loved him. He would only ever offer me money. Maybe my time at DigiTech was over. Maybe it was time to move on. The only way I was going to be able to do this, to retain my independence, was to work somewhere else. I had to find a new job.
I would hand in my resignation and find myself a new job long before the baby was born. Whether I kept it or not, it was the only way out of this I could see. I didn’t want to give up the life I had. I loved where I was in life, and I had just gotten a promotion. But at what cost did I have all these good things?
Life was about tough choices, and I had few of them to make now.
When I finally emerged from the bathroom, Brent was gone. I didn’t know how long it’d been since he’d left, but I was grateful for it. I couldn’t face him right now. My whole life had fallen apart. I felt shit about us fighting, but he just wouldn’t stop going on about money. I wasn’t going to be that woman. It already looked like I’d tried to keep him around by falling pregnant. It wasn’t like that, and I didn’t think he felt it was like that, but it still pissed me off. I had fallen pregnant at twenty-three.
I wasn’t a teenager, breaking all the rules. I wasn’t in a loving relationship, planning the next step. I was somewhere in the middle, confused and irritated and stuck in a situation I hadn’t chosen.
This was bullshit.
I collapsed on my bed and covered my face with my hands. What was I going to do? How was I going to deal with this? Having a baby would affect my career. A baby would take all my time. I wouldn’t be able to do everything the way I was doing it now.
I had been thrilled when I’d started with Brent, trying and succeeding in seducing him. Brent had always been the ultimate prize. And for a short while, everything had been perfect.
Now, when I looked back to the past two weeks and what we had done, I had a bitter taste in my mouth. Everything was tainted by the fact that I had fallen pregnant.
Brent had told me he didn’t date—he fucked. Where did that leave me now that I was going to have a baby? I wasn’t going to force him to stick around, that was for sure. I could only imagine how horrible it had to be to him, knowing that he would forever be tied down somehow when he hadn’t wanted anything this long-term.
Maybe the best idea was to give the baby up for adoption. We could both keep living our lives the way we wanted to. We wouldn’t have to stick together for the baby’s sake, and I wouldn’t need a cent from Brent.
The more I thought about adoption as an option, the worse I felt. How could I do to my own child what had been done to me? I had grown up in a good home with parents who loved me, and everything had been great. I had been lucky. But the system was horrible, and if I put my child into it, who was to say that he or she would have a good life, too?
I couldn’t do that. But the alternative—keeping the baby and raising it into a beautiful human being—was just as terrifying.
Suddenly, I wanted my mom. For a few minutes, I had been adamant that I could handle it all on my own. I couldn’t. I needed my mom. I needed her warm hugs, the safety that came with her knowledge. I had to tell her what was going on.
My mom had always been able to chase the nightmares away. She had always been there for me, no matter what.
Yes, I was ashamed that I had fallen pregnant. I should have known better. But I didn’t want to do this alone. I wanted to cry on my mom’s shoulder. I wanted her to rub my back and to tell me everything was going to be okay. I wanted to believe her, even it didn’t look like it could possibly be okay.
I got dressed, put on a bit of makeup to try and hide my swollen eyes, and headed out the door. I got into my car and sat for a moment, my hands on the steering wheel, and just breathed. So much had happened lately. So many chapters had come to an end, and new ones had started. It was a lot to take in, and I was overwhelmed.
When I pulled up in front of my mom’s house, my dad opened the front door.
“You’re a day early, pumpkin,” he said and smiled. I hugged him.
“Is Mom home?”
“She ran out to the store, but she’ll be back any minute now. Come, wait with me.”
He must have known something was wrong, but he didn’t push me to talk about it. He never had, and I was grateful for it. I sat down with Dad in front of the television, and we watched a game show. I couldn’t focus on the trivial bullshit on the screen, but I chuckled when my dad did and appreciated his gesture.
I heard Mom’s car in the driveway. She walked to the door and looked surprised to see me.
“Hello, my honey,” she said.
I walked to her and hugged her.
“What’s wrong?”
I wanted to tell her everything was fine. I wanted to tell her I was okay. But the moment I opened my mouth, I started crying. I couldn’t bite back the tears. She must have realized something was seriously wrong, because she took my hand and stroked the back of it with her thumb.
“Come with me to the kitchen,” she said. “We need tea.”
I followed her and sat down in the breakfast nook while she bustled around the kitchen, making tea and taking out cookies from the pantry. This was exactly what I had needed. A warm cup of tea, comfort food, and a mom that would listen to all my woes without judging.
If I gave up my child for adoption, I could be robbing it of something this special. I would have no control over what was going to happen. But I had no control now, either. It only made me cry harder.