Fifteen
Graham
“Kids, you guys stay here.”
“Daddy? Who’s that?”
“Just stay here, guys.”
Seeing the horror on Libby’s face was what I was trying to avoid. I rushed out onto the porch, hoping she would stop when I called after her. It wasn’t what it looked like. I knew what she was thinking. I tried very hard to keep my sex life separated from my home life. My kids were my world, especially once their mother started taking a turn for the worst. I ran down the porch, trying to keep my kids back in the house as I yelled for her.
“Libby! Wait!”
She skidded out of the driveway and I yanked my phone from my pocket. I called my nanny that had left only moments before and told her to turn back around. I needed her to come stay with the kids so I could take care of something important.
Because Libby was important.
I ran back into the house and got the kids playing in their rooms. They wouldn’t stop asking me who the crying lady was, and it made my heart ache. I’d never meant to hurt Libby, but I made myself a promise long ago to keep my kids away from my personal life. I was a very busy man with needs that needed tending to, and I wasn’t afraid to reach out and fulfill them. What I didn’t want was a revolving door of women who wanted to act like they enjoyed my children to save face for me.
“Mr. Alexander? I’m back.”
“Thank fuck. I’m sorry, Melinda, but I have to go,” I said.
“What should I tell the kids?” she asked.
“Tell them I’ll be home for dinner!”
I grabbed my suit coat and barreled out the door. I fished my keys out of my pocket as the garage door opened. I was going to need my fastest car. I wasn’t letting Libby get away. I knew I had a lot of explaining to do, but now that she knew I had children it would be easier than lying to her. I had been absent ever since my business trip and very unavailable for her once I got back, but that wasn’t because I was ignoring her.
It was because my children had needed me.
I raced down the road, weaving in and out of traffic. I had to get to her. I had to explain to Libby what was going on once and for all so I didn’t lose her. With any other woman in any other situation, I would’ve let it go. But something in my gut didn’t want to with her. Watching the way her face fell and the sadness behind her eyes was too much to bear. It was too much at the wedding, and it was too much now. Something inside of me wanted to protect her. Something inside of me wanted to keep her happy.
And she was hurting because of me.
I pulled into her apartment complex and looked up to her apartment. I didn’t know what was going on, but I could tell her door was wide open. I slammed the car door behind me and shoved my keys into my pocket, then took the stairs three at a time to get to her. I could hear her crying and choking even from outside the apartment, and I barreled in as I whipped my head around in all directions.
“Libby! Where are you?”
I heard her coughing and I followed the sound. I walked into her bedroom and I could smell the stench coming from her bathroom. I walked in and saw her slumping onto the grimy floor of her apartment, her arms cradling the toilet as her stomach continued to jump with sickness. I walked over and flushed the toilet, ridding her apartment of the foul smell.
Then I bent down to pick her up.
“On the count of three, I’m going to lift you, okay? One… two… three.”
I lifted Libby into the air and she sighed. Her body instinctively curled into me even though her weak touch tried to push me away. I walked her out of her bathroom and laid her down in her bed, then reached for a tissue so I could clean her mouth off. I smoothed her sweaty hair back from her head as her eyes fluttered open and closed, her body fighting between sleep and staying away. I could see the pain in her face. I could feel her hands shaking from the exertion of her vomiting. I bit down onto my tongue, cursing myself for being such as idiotic asshole.
“Take a nap,” I said. “I’ll be here when you get up.”
Libby drifted off to sleep and I took it upon myself to clean up. I went and shut her apartment door, removed my suit coat, then proceeded to clean her bathroom. I didn’t want her smelling anything like that once she woke up because I wanted her to focus on talking to me. I picked up a few things around her apartment and started her small little dishwasher, then I heard her shifting around in bed.
“Graham?” she asked.
“I’m right here,” I said as I strode back to her room. “I’m right here, Libby.”
She looked up at me with reddened eyes and my heart sank to my toes. I did that to her. I made her feel this way. I reached for her hand to try and take it, but she moved it away. In fact, she shifted her entire body away from me, electing to lay on the other side of the bed I was sitting on.
“What are you doing here?” Libby asked.
“I owe you some answers,” I said.
“A few, yes,” she said. “But there’s something I have to tell you, too.”
“Let me go first, please?”
Libby opened her mouth to protest but nodded before she curled up tighter in bed.
“The woman in Boka, remember her?” I asked.
“How could I forget? She threw wine in your face,” she said.
“That woman was my ex. She’s the mother of my children.”
“The three children I saw in your home,” she said.
“Yes. We… we were never married, but we were engaged. We had some serious issues we were always trying to work through.”
I sighed as I hunched over and put my head in my hands.
“What happened between you two?” Libby asked.
“We were together for four years,” I said. “We had our daughter not too far into the relationship, and I decided to stick by her because I didn’t want her doing it alone. I wanted her to know I was there if she needed me. But after she had our daughter, postpartum depression kicked in.”
“I’m so sorry,” she said.
“We dealt with it the first time around, and things were going okay. She was on medication that was helping and a lot of the big, glaring problems faded. But then she got pregnant with the twin boys, and things spiraled. She wasn’t sure if she could do more children and I told her I’d always be there to help. She didn’t believe me, so I proposed to try and get her not to worry about it.”
“Probably not the smartest idea,” she said.
“It wasn’t. She was ecstatic, but things quickly changed. She had the boys and her depression got worse. I tried to get her help, to get her to change medications, but she wasn’t having it. She turned to alcohol to help cope and was doing all sorts of things when she was drunk. Purchasing cars and taking out credit card after credit card. I came home one day to an entire team of people putting in an in-ground pool, a hot tub, and a steam sauna while she was passed out on the couch.”
“Holy crap,” she said breathlessly.
“I told her she needed to get help. I hired a nanny to help with the kids, but she took it as an invitation to keep drinking. We had fight after fight about it, and the kids were paying the price for it. I rescinded the engagement because I told her I wasn’t marrying the person she had turned into and she accused me of trying to manipulate her into something she wasn’t. She stormed out and I changed the locks on the house, then took her to court for custody of the kids. She hardly even fought me.”
“You mentioned something about a restraining order at lunch that day. Why do you have that against her?”
“A few days after the judge awarded me custody of the kids, she broke into the house and tried to take our sons. She was beyond intoxicated and stumbling around everywhere. She really hurt herself and it ended with three traumatized kids and a trip to the hospital. I had my lawyer take one out on her before she left the hospital four days later.”
I felt the bed shift and I looked up from my hands. Libby was sitting beside me on the bed, her hand rubbing my back. Here was this woman, whose heart I had hurt so much it made her sick, and she was consoling me. I was here to answer her questions, yet she was the one pouring her heart out for me.
It was unimaginable, the patience Libby had.
“I’ve moved three separate times with the kids, and every time we move she finds us and it’s horrible for everyone. That’s why I don’t tell anyone about them. I’m paranoid that I’ll tell someone about them and they’ll, you know… know her or something.”
“I get it,” Libby said. “You’re protecting your children. I can’t fault you for that. If anything, I think you’re a greater man for it.”
“And I’m sorry for ignoring you for the past couple of weeks. I came home to both of my boys having the flu, and they just started getting better.”
“My god, Graham. I mean, I get why you don’t tell people about them, but I would’ve understood.”
“I know, I know. It’s just, there are many reasons I keep them separated from other aspects of my life. Their mother is one, but I also don’t want a revolving door of women walking in and out of the house. They’ve been through enough and they need stability. My three kids need stability.”
I felt Libby tense as her hand fell from my back.
“Libby?” I asked. “What’s wrong?”
“Your three kids,” she said.
“Yeah. My daughter and my two sons,” I said.
“Would you… be willing to change that statement to ‘your four kids’?” she asked.
My eyes connected with Libby’s as the blood drained from my heart. Four kids? Was this… was Libby pregnant?
“Four kids,” I said.
“Yeah.”
“You’re… you’re pregnant.”
“Yes,” she said with a whisper.
“That’s why you came to the house.”
“It is,” she said.
“How did you know where I lived?” I asked.
“I um… I was in the cafe across town when you… when you walked in.”
“Coffee Cupz?” I asked.
“Yeah.”
“Why didn’t you approach me then?”
“Honestly? I didn’t think you’d talk to me. So, I… got in my car and followed you.”
I watched a tear drip down Libby’s cheek. She was shaking, and I didn’t want her feeling this way any longer. She was the kindest, freest, most incredible woman I had ever met. She was timid and soft spoken, and her light-hearted nature touched a part of me only my kids had touched. I cupped my hand against her cheek as her tears died on my skin, and when she nuzzled into my touch I felt my heart explode with happiness.
This beautiful, soft, intelligent, soft-spoken woman was carrying my child.
“You’re pregnant,” I said with a smile.
“I am,” she said with a grin.
“We’re gonna have a baby.”
“‘We’?” she asked.
“You didn’t think I was going to let you do this alone, did you?” I asked.
“I wasn’t sure what to think. I figured with three kids of your own you’d-”
I silenced whatever she was going to say with a kiss. I felt her body fall into mine as my arms wrapped around her back. I pulled her into my lap, her legs straddling me as her hands wound tightly in the tendrils of my hair. I felt her tongue lapping at my lips, begging for entrance as my hands roamed her body.
Libby was pregnant. With my child. I felt my head spinning with excitement. I deepened the kiss, allowing the fire sparking in my toes to run up my legs. I laid us down onto her bed, rolling her over so she was pinned underneath the strength of my body. I had missed her kisses. I had missed her touch. I had missed the way her body felt underneath mine as her legs spread willingly to accommodate my body.
“We’re going to have a baby,” I said, whispering.
“So… you’re not angry?” Libby asked.
My eyes connected with hers as my hand traveled down her body. I watched her eyes flutter closed as her body betrayed her true want for me. I pressed a kiss to her neck, then her shoulder, then her cheek.
“I could never be angry with you,” I said.
Our lips connected again and that was it. I knew Libby was the one. I didn’t know how things were going to turn out and I didn’t know how we would integrate her into the family, but she wasn’t going anywhere. I wasn’t going anywhere. This past month without her had been a nightmare, and every morning I woke up and wished she was there. I was excited to start a family with her. To raise a child with her and introduce her to my kids. I knew they would love her. I knew they would adore her.
Just like I did.
But I had to get her to trust me again. I felt Libby’s hands planting themselves onto my chest and I rose up from her body. There was hesitancy in her eyes when there should’ve been happiness, and it killed a part of me. She didn’t trust me any longer, and I couldn't blame her for that. But that didn’t mean it had to stay that way.
I had to earn Libby’s trust back. No matter what it took.