Chapter 24
Then
It had been six months since I became the wife of Michael Danforth, and ever since, my life has been draining into a cesspit of sadness.
My baby had grown inside me, yet Michael hadn’t once acknowledged my tummy or any baby-related questions.
It was Tammy or my mother who visited with me at my prenatal appointments, and I found out I was having a baby girl.
I never told Michael, hoping he’d ask.
I even took my old job at Delanie’s back.
Once, I was a teenage girl working at a pizza shop, delusional with dreams of Michael and our life together.
I was a married woman working in a pizza shop, living in a nightmare with Michael.
He wasn’t ever physically abusive again, but emotionally, he hadn’t touched me since, not even in a loving way.
Sometimes, he came home, and sometimes he didn’t.
I feared he had other women, and deep down, I knew he did.
But if I didn’t pry, it wasn’t real.
Despite his lack of love and emotions for the baby and me, I continued loving him.
I woke him every morning with a kiss after I showered and dried my hair.
Michael’s breakfast was cooked, and just so I could touch him, I would help button his shirt and tie his tie.
Before he walked out each day, I told him how handsome he was and that I loved him.
I never heard it back.
I was making a special chicken cacciatore dinner tonight and planned to tell Michael he was having a daughter.
It was hard to include words such as our baby and our daughter because he made me feel so alone in all of it.
I wanted us to return to where we were before I became pregnant.
I knew there would be no moment of bliss filled with joy, kissing, and hugging.
But I wanted him to express something. Did he even care what he was having? And maybe it would all be a lost cause—if he didn’t come home. Nonetheless, I carried on with my loving wife duties and hoped someday I could look back and say it was all worth it.
I had also turned eighteen since we married, but he didn’t even know my birthday.
Tammy and I celebrated alone at the apartment—because it was a no-show night for Michael.
The following day, he asked who the birthday cake was for.
When I told him, Micheal wondered why I never said anything.
He didn’t remember what I told him in the past, before getting pregnant. I was hoping for a little something. But nothing. He did say under his breath, ‘Should have said something. Maybe we would have gone out.’
So tonight, I hoped to get an extension for my birthday and even made another cake—chocolate with butter pecan frosting.
It was Michael’s favorite—not mine.
And since it was Wednesday, he was sure to come home.
It mainly was Fridays and Saturdays he didn’t.
I wore a long, black tunic dress that hugged my baby bump.
I was small for six months, and the lady at the store told me I looked darling in it.
My hair was up with a few curls that wisped at my shoulders.
I looked…beautiful.
And with my baby girl inside me, I felt special. I just wanted Michael to see me this way.
The candles flickered, and music played softly in the background.
I stood next to the table when the door opened.
Michael came home.
“Why are the lights off?’ he asked, setting his briefcase down.
“Hi, Michael,”
I said softly, lovingly.
He looked at me, the table, and then back at me.
“What’s going on?”
he began to remove his tie when I joined him at the door.
“Let me,”
I said, unknotting his tie.
“How was your day?”
“Fine, I guess.”
Was he going to say I looked pretty?
I kissed his cheek and said, “I missed you.”
He began with the arrangement talk.
“Jill…don’t…”
I stopped him.
“Shh.
Just listen.
Remember when you said you wished you would have known my birthday and that maybe we would have done something?”
He inhaled.
“I don’t know…maybe.”
“Well, let’s redo it.
I’ve made chicken cacciatore and your favorite cake.”
His tie was off, and I began to unbutton his shirt.
I placed a small kiss in the well of his throat and felt him swallow.
I wanted him to hold me.
I didn’t want him to think I feared his touch.
That we could start our wedding night over, and maybe all this time, he thought I was wary of sex because of what happened. I was taking a stand and going to win my Michael back—my husband.
“Jill…you don’t have to do this.
Just let me know if you want something for your birthday, and I’ll pick it up tomorrow.”
“I don’t want something else, Michael.
I want dinner with you,”
I said, looking into his eyes.
There was remorse there; maybe I could use it in my favor.
“Have dinner with me, and I will tell you what I want for my birthday.”
He looked over at the table and back to me.
“Please.
And I found out what the baby is today.”
His eyes widened a bit.
Was he eager to know?
“Oh? So, you know if it’s a boy or girl?”
he asked.
He…asked, and it was the light I needed to brighten the visions I so wanted for us.
I smiled into his eyes. “Yes.”
He seemed…intrigued.
I was happy.
Was I winning my husband? I led him by the hand to the table.
“First let’s eat, and I’ll tell you.”
He sat, and I moved to the chair across.
I watched his eyes watch me.
“You…look pretty.”
I gasped, and I could feel my heart skipping beats.
“Thank you, Michael.”
I served his plate and poured his wine.
As I did, he watched me with captivating eyes.
Maybe he thought I didn’t want to try, and after tonight, we would be happy in love.
I was allowed to go on with our marriage and become a family.
After a few bites, he said, “I really would like to know.”
Was he referring to us…or the baby? I needed to know more how he really felt and wanted to set the record straight.
“Michael, I want you to know.
I’m willing to work on our marriage.
I realize it came as a shock to both of us and I understand how you must have taken it at first.
But that doesn’t mean I love you less.”
His eyes never wavered from me, and I felt a shift in our favor.
“I will stand by you in your career and any decision you make on that,”
I remember his longing for Boeing and moving to Seattle.
Maybe if he knew I was willing, and not a threat, he would let down his guard and love me.
He looked down at his plate and back at me.
“Thank you.
And like I said, I will see that you get your degree in nursing.”
I smiled and thanked him before taking a bite.
Something had shifted.
We were exchanging positive inclinations, and I was hopeful.
I wanted to tell him about the baby.
Would he be upset it wasn’t a boy?
“So, how do you feel about having a daughter?”
I said it and held my breath.
He stopped with his fork and set it down.
“We’re having a girl?”
I was still holding my breath. “Ah huh.”
He smiled, and his eyes became glassy.
I bit my lip, waiting for more.
“I know most men want a boy…”
“A girl.
Wow…I just…wow.”
It was real to him now.
He was going to be a father, and he was having a daughter.
Yet, I needed to know how he felt.
“I know you weren’t happy when I first told you, but how does having a daughter feel?”
“It…it feels different,”
he said.
Different good or different bad? He got up and came over to me and bent down.
My breath hitched, and the tears were already forming in my eyes.
I had done the right thing.
I had fought for us and won my husband.
He pushed my chair back and touched my pregnant belly.
It was the first time he had touched me.
My heart was in melt-down mode, and he laid his head on my lap.
Had it finally become real to him?
He began to cry, and my hands smoothed his hair.
He did love me.
He just didn’t know how.
He then looked up, and I saw the hurt and pain in his eyes.
He tried to speak but each time would break up. I cupped his face and told him it was all right. To say what he needed to say.
“It…it was easier to just stay angry.
Go on with life and not think about it,”
he said.
“But now, now when I think of a little girl…looking up to me to care for her…I…”
He couldn’t finish and cried on my lap.
I told him how much I loved him and how happy I was to be having his daughter.
He took my hands and looked longingly into my eyes.
“Jill…I know I haven’t been a husband.
And I’ve done…done things….”
I wonder what other things he had done, and I didn’t know if hearing that he had other women, I could take.
But at that point, I knew it was true.
But I had had my moment and love was working its miracle in this doomed relationship.
“I’m going to try, Jill.
I can’t promise it will be easy for me. But I will try.”
I didn’t like how it was an effort for him to have to try.
But it was a progression, and I was willing to accept any effort he was willing to give.
I felt now would be a good time to ask him what I wanted for my birthday.
“Michael,”
I sniffed and wiped my eyes.
He looked at me with heavy tears.
“For my birthday, I would like a portrait taken of us.
A girl at school is studying photography and has asked if we would like some pictures taken.
She has a whole portfolio of expecting parents, and I would really like some of us.”
“That’s what you want?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.
Just tell me when.”
My smile couldn’t have been any bigger. “Really?”
He held my hands, and it felt so reassuring. “Really.”
“Thank you.”
Just then, the baby kicked.
“She’s moving.
You want to feel?”
I placed his hand over the area, and she kicked again.
She was kicking for us.
She felt my joy, and it was her way of telling me that I too had finally acknowledged her.
I had been so consumed with gaining Michael’s love, that I hadn’t taken the time to think of her.
But it was all changing now—for all three of us.
I stood so he could feel more of my belly and I kissed his cheek.
He kissed back, and when his lips found my lips, everything I had been through with us had been worth it.
My love brought us together.
He wrapped me tightly, and the kissing became…sexual.
His hands were under my dress and we were becoming lost in his touch.
It had been so long, and I was falling in love all over again.
He picked me up and carried me to the bed.
Our bodies pressed into each other, and I felt him growing hard. Our breathing was heavy, our kisses were hungry, and everything in life had happened to get to this moment.
He pulled off my dress and sucked hard on my nipples.
They had become tender, but the ache was pure pleasure as his tongue massaged the soreness.
“God, you’ve grown,”
he said, noticing how my breasts had become engorged with the pregnancy.
“Michael,”
I cried out his name, fearing he thought I would want him to stop.
“Are you okay?”
His voice was low and breathy.
I was in need—in need of him.
“Yes.”
“I think you should be on top.
Would that be easier with the baby?”
My pounding heart connected to my excited center and intensified when he mentioned the baby.
We were all one now, and we were going to make love.
He stood, removed his clothes, and then helped with the dress.
I was naked for the first time in six months in front of him, and I looked different.
My belly invaded the space between us, and he bent down and kissed it.
Tears ran down my face, and I thanked him over and over.
I told him how much we needed him. How much I loved him. I waited to hear his love back, but I considered that this was how he said it through his emotions. He wasn’t the type who could say it. But with his uncontrollable kissing and touching and crying, this was how he said it.
He sat me down on his erection and held my hips as he pushed up into me.
He was inside me, and it had been so long.
He breathed and moaned about how it felt so good.
How he missed this, and I yelled out his name.
“Michael.”
He held my belly as we moved into each other, and for once, I felt connected, loved—us.
It was the most intense lovemaking we had ever had; for once, life made sense for why we cried and hurt.
Why do we love and become so vulnerable? And that’s when I realized I made him weak, which gave me power.
As our rhythm increased, so did our emotions, words, and breath, which filled the room.
“Oh, God, Jill.
I swear…it’s never felt so good.”
As he came inside me, repeating my name, chemistry molded us together as one, and all the doubts of the past melted away.
We kissed like we were scared, and only holding onto each other would ease the fear.
Until now, we have broken each other apart and are now molded into one.
It all made sense now.
He came hard, and I had already reached my third orgasm.
We held each other close, fearing what would happen if we were to let go.
He rolled me to the bed, and we morphed into one another.
As our breathing slowed to shallow breaths, I heard Shania in the background, the lyrics of how we made it.
And I knew then I would never stop fighting for us.
I never slept any better than I did that night, with Michael beside me, tracing circles on my belly.
We had succumbed to our situation, turning us in a new direction.
But little did I know chemistry came with an expiration date.
And, the glue that once bound us together would only become something sticky, keeping us from moving on.
. . . . .
Michael had kept his promise to have our pregnancy portraits taken, and we were meeting Beth, the school photographer, at The Round Barn.
The place was famous for senior portraits and weddings.
It was a warm spring day, and things had been moving in the right direction for us.
I had picked out a few casual outfits—a form-fitting T-shirt tunic and a loose button-up shirt.
Beth showed me many pictures exposing just a hint of the naked belly. Michael also wore a white button-up shirt.
As I looked around the blooming spring day, I thought about how I would like to get married here someday.
Then, I remembered…I was married.
Maybe after the baby comes, I could convince Michael to let us renew our vows—have a real wedding.
The pictures we were taking today would also double as my senior pictures.
I was so preoccupied with work, school, and Michael that I had never taken any of them.
But to have Michael in my photographs and our unborn child, goosebumps pricked at the thought.
I was hoping it wasn’t just the chilling spring wind.
Due to the heavy spring rains, Beth posed us next to a creek that flowed deep and fast.
The cherry blossoms were the perfect backdrop, with white and pink flowers.
“Michael, I want you to place your hands on Jill’s belly and kiss her forehead.
Jill, look into Michael’s chest, but close your eyes,”
Beth instructed us.
“Perfect.
Just let a slight smile form on our lips.
Like you’re both thinking about the baby.”
I heard Michael give a slight huff and hoped the look on my face wouldn’t show my disappointment.
He hadn’t said much since we arrived, and for him to start showing annoyance pained my heart.
Yet, he was here—trying.
“That was great.
If you want to change inside, we can do some open-belly shots.”
Michael furrowed his brows, and I explained what we would do.
“Not you, Michael.
Me.
It’s something new, some of the new mothers are doing.”
He rolled his eyes, and I pleaded with mine.
I felt everything was coming undone as I went inside and changed.
I returned, and Beth posed me with my back snuggled into Michael, his arms around my belly and opened just a few buttons.
It was just enough to expose my bump.
“Jill lay your head in the crook of Michael’s neck.
And Michael, look like you’re whispering something in Jill’s ear.
Jill, I want you to smile like Michael said something romantic.”
Just as Beth snapped the shot, Michael whispered in my ear.
“This is silly and a waste of time.
I would have picked something else as your birthday present.”
As I started to cry, I was sure that the twitch of my jaw would exist in the picture.
People say that a picture can say a thousand words.
But for me, it only said one—sorrow.