Chapter 33 Penny
Penny
It’s been three days, and I’m still curled up in my bed, crying my eyes out.
He came for me, he saved me, but then he left me here.
I should be glad it ended this way. Logically, this is the best-case scenario.
I’m finally free from Tommy, and I don’t have to worry about Tucker or anyone else coming after me.
My parents want me to stay with them. They are even taking out a loan to help me pay for college. I should be happy, but my heart hurts.
A gentle knock on my door has me sitting up in my bed.
“Penny, can I come in?” my mom’s soft voice asks through the door.
No. “Sure,” I croak, shocked by how raw my voice sounds. Using the sleeve of my sweater, I wipe the tears from my cheek, as if that would hide the fact that I’ve been crying all day.
The door creaks open, and my mom steps in, balancing a tray of food with one hand. “I brought you some lunch, sweetie.”
“Thanks, but I’m not hungry.” I flop back down on the bed, throwing my arm over my face. I hate the way she is looking at me. “Please, don’t feel sorry for me. I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine, Penny, but you will be.” I hear her set the tray down on my nightstand. “Just try to eat something. A few bites, at least.”
“Okay,” I murmur into the crook of my elbow, knowing that’s a lie. I can’t get a single bite down. Even thinking about food has my stomach churning.
I listen to my mother leave the room, closing the door quietly behind her. I still haven’t gotten a pregnancy test, but I know. I can feel it. I’m pregnant. I’m growing a child inside my womb, Ryder’s child. A man I love but can never have.
This is just another reason I should be happy. Ryder made it very clear he didn’t want a child. Even if I got a chance to talk to him, how would I tell him? He would hate me even more. Like he said, all I do is destroy his life.
A sob rips from my throat, one of many seemingly endless ones. There is nothing but dread, fear, and sadness left. I cry almost every day. My parents have begged me to talk to someone and even made me an appointment with a psychologist. I didn’t go.
I’m crying for so many reasons I’ve lost count. I’m crying for everything I’ve lost. I’m crying for the past and for all the uncertainties of the future.
Most of all, I cry for the child growing inside of me, knowing that I could never be the mother it deserves.
One Month Later
I don’t know who came up with the saying time heals all wounds. Whoever it was, they were wrong. It’s been a month now, and I still feel no better. Maybe even worse.
Two weeks ago, five grand magically appeared in my bank account. The transfer read tuition, which made my parents certain it had been from some grant I filled out, but I know better. Ryder sent it, probably because he felt sorry or guilty. Either reason made me feel like shit, like he paid me off.
Using my fork, I shovel the food on my plate around to make it look like I’m eating. I only take tiny bites of mash potato in between. I’ve been getting better with eating, but I can only do small amounts at a time.
I don’t know how much of this issue with food comes from my pregnancy and how much stems from my depression.
I’ve done a little research online about the first trimester. I know I should go to the doctor, but every time I think about it, I freeze. Going to the doctor would make this all real. I don’t think I’m ready for that yet.
The ringing of the doorbell startles me to the point of me dropping my fork. My father’s hand comes out of nowhere, covering my own gently.
“Just the doorbell, I’ll get it.”
“I wonder who that could be? It’s almost seven,” my mom points out as if seven o’clock is in the middle of the night.
“I think you might be at the wrong house, son,” my father’s deep voice carries through the house.
“This is the address I’m supposed to drop him off at. It’s for Penny,” someone says.
At the mention of my name, I perk up. Curiously, I get up from my chair and walk toward the voices. The front door is wide open when I turn the corner. I see the guy my father is talking to first.
I’ve never seen him before. He is young, about my age, with shaggy looking blond hair. He smiles at me when he sees me approach, but I can’t muster up even a fake smile. Until my eyes lower to the floor.
“Mojo!” I call out and drop to my knees. He immediately breaks free from the guy holding his leash and runs toward me.
I wrap my arms around the Rottweiler I’ve missed so much. He licks my face and whines in excitement, his large body shaking in my hold. I dig my fingers into his thick fur like I’ve always done, and for the first time in over a month, I feel a jolt of happiness.
Burying my face in the crook of Mojo’s neck, I hold on to him like I’m holding on to that spark of joy. He smells the same, feels the same, and his presence alone makes me content.
“So, I guess you are at the right house.” My dad chuckles.
“The guy who sent me told me he can’t take care of the dog anymore and that you would take him. I have a bunch of dog stuff in the car too. I’ll get it unless you can’t keep him either.”
“Yes!” I blurt out. We’ll keep him.” I look up and find my father staring at me with his eyebrows raised.
“We will?”
“Yes, please. He is a good dog, I promise.” I give him a hopeful look.
“Okay, then. We’ll keep him.”
The corners of my mouth turn up. I go back to cuddling Mojo, curling up on the floor with him in the middle of the hallway.
I don’t even care how weird I look right now. All I care about is having another part of Ryder here with me.
Two Months Later
Rubbing the growing bump on my stomach, I watch two expectant mothers chat across from me in the waiting room. They are talking about nursery colors and classical music to soothe newborns. They look so happy, so excited about having a baby soon. I haven’t felt either.
I have told no one about this pregnancy. I’ve been hiding my bump, and this is the first time I’m actually seeing a doctor, and watching those two chat is another reason I have been avoiding this.
Not only is being here making it real, but it’s also a stark reminder of everything that’s wrong with me. I shouldn’t be sad about having a child.
“Penny Jenkins,” a sing-song voice calls my name. I look up and find a nurse sticking her head into the waiting room. When our eyes meet, she smiles widely. “Hey, Penny. Come on in, we don’t bite around here.”
Returning a tiny smile, I get up and follow her into an examination room. She takes my vitals and checks my weight before handing me a gown to put on.
“Leave it open in the front. The doctor will be right with you,” she tells me before leaving me alone in the room.
I take off my clothes and put on the gown as instructed. A few minutes later, a soft knock fills the small room, and a petite woman enters. She looks so young, I think she must be another nurse, but then she introduces herself.
“Hey, Penny, I’m Dr. Walden. It’s so nice to meet you,” she says so cheerfully it almost sounds fake, but the way she looks at me and takes my hand in between both of hers tells me she is not fake at all.
There is a kindness and warmth in her eyes that you rarely see. I instantly know that she genuinely loves her job. She loves helping people and bringing new life into this world.
“Hi, it’s nice to meet you too.”
She takes a seat on the backless rolling stool and moves it right in front of me. “So, I looked over your charts. Your vitals are good, and it says here that you think you’re four months along, but you haven’t seen a doctor yet.”
“Um, yes, I haven’t seen anyone yet,” I admit shamefully. Looking down, I wring my hands in my lap.
“Oh, sweetie, that’s okay.” She reaches out and pats my leg. “The important part is that you are here now, and we’re going to take good care of you,” she tells me without an ounce of judgment in her voice.
I feel like a tremendous weight has been lifted off my shoulder, a weight I didn’t even realize was there. I figured the doctor would be mad, telling me how reckless I am not to take proper care of myself. I didn’t expect her to be so sweet and understanding.
She asks me a few more questions, and I answer each one honestly before she makes me lie back to examine me. When she is done with that, she finally rolls over the ultrasound machine. She squirts some cold gel on my belly and spreads it out before bringing a wand looking thing to my skin.
The moment she touches my stomach, the ultrasound machine comes to life. The screen lights up with an array of green lines moving across, numbers are popping up along the bottom, and then I hear it.
The loud and even drumming of a steady heartbeat. My baby’s heartbeat. The fast-moving rhythmic sound evokes feelings inside of me I wasn’t sure were possible. A warmth spreads through my chest, slowly overshadowing the dread I’ve been holding on to.
I’ve avoided coming here because I didn’t want it to be real, but now that it is, I feel more at ease than I have in a while.
I could listen to my baby’s heartbeat forever, it’s like my own personal lullaby. A calmness washes over me, and I close my eyes. I imagine holding my baby in my arms. I imagine its head pressed against my chest, listening to my heartbeat.
A single tear escapes the corner of my eye and rolls down my cheek.
It’s a happy tear because this is the moment I realize something.
This is the moment I realize that I already love this baby.
I love it more than I love anything in the world.
More than myself, and no matter what, that love will be eternal.