Thirty-five
Sadie
Nick calls a rideshare and takes me to the store while Ben rests so I can pick up a few things—including a test. I think I may be pregnant, and I’ve never been more terrified of anything. The pill has a very small chance of failing, but with my body, we knew there was a chance. This wasn’t in our plans, and with where we currently are, I don’t know if we have the strength to bring a child into our marriage.
“You going to take it when we get back or do you want to take it here?” Nick asks next to me at the checkout.
I shake my head. “I never really thought about taking my first pregnancy test in a convenience store bathroom, so I’ll pass.” Squeezing my shoulder reassuringly, he smiles. I quickly pay, then we head back.
“I think I want to get us a nice hotel room and maybe take it there and then tell him if I am or not. You know, in private.” My knee bounces briskly up and down next to Nick. My hands are shaking, and my insides are all discombobulated with nerves. I can’t believe I might be pregnant.
“That’s a good idea,” Nick concedes. My last period was two months ago, and besides being so late, I’ve been tired and nauseous all week.
“Do you think he’ll be okay with this? The tour will be over soon, and then he’ll be back home to record.”
“It’s with you. I think he’ll love anything you give him.” He chuckles, and I blush. I love the fact that Ben loves me as much as he does. Through this journey, I have seen Ben eat away at himself, letting guilt consume him. He feels bad for making me choose. But really, he didn’t. I won’t credit anyone for this choice but myself. He has been loving, even on the lowest days, and he has apologized relentlessly. I forgave him a long time ago. We all have to set boundaries and know when to walk away, but that time isn’t here yet. There is still hope, and I love him for not giving up on us. We’ve both made the greatest sacrifices.
“What about you, kid? You sure you’re ready?” I ponder that for a minute. Life has thrown me a curveball. Ben and I haven’t talked much about having kids, but I knew it was going to be in my future eventually, even if this is sooner than I thought.
“It’s scary. Definitely unexpected. But it’s a piece of Ben and me, and knowing we’re possibly going to be a family is . . . kind of like faith.” Nick looks at me, confused. “I get that that sounds weird. But faith sometimes doesn’t make sense. Out of nowhere, it has pulled me through some of the hardest times in my life. Ben and I could use some good news, a little reward for all the work we’ve put into our marriage. This possible baby could be a blessing, a reminder that we are meant to be together and can fight anything that comes our way.”
“His battles, you mean?”
“They aren’t his battles to fight alone. I won’t give up on him just because the life I signed up for isn’t the life I expected. I want Ben, and that means I’ll have to fight his battles as if they were my own.”
As we pull up to the bus, Nick looks over to me, dumbfounded. “You know, you are one of the strongest people I’ve ever met. You honestly have no idea how special and incredible you are. Ben is the luckiest man alive to have found someone so accepting and loyal.”
“I’m not that great. Love isn’t a choice.”
“It can be.”
“Is that why you’re not married, Nick?” I tease, pushing his shoulder and breaking up the tension. We climb out of the car and head inside.
“Not for me. Been there, done that. Now let’s get going.”
Nick has been married before? Ben never said anything about it.
“Lead the way.”
I’m curious to know Nick’s story.
“Angel,” Ben says the second we step onto the bus. I look up and smile at the version of Ben in front of me. He’s freshly shaved and dressed like he’s ready to go out.
“Hey! You look very handsome.” I put my bag on the counter and walk into his waiting arms. This is the first time outside of him playing shows or promoting the band that he has gotten out of bed or left the back room. I can smell his body wash, and his warm body heat can be felt under his clothes.
“You look stunning. Did you get everything you need?”
“I did.” My cheek lies against his chest, and my eyes meet Nick’s as he gives me a knowing nod. This has to be a good sign—coming back to him in a good mood, freshly showered and energized.
The universe is listening. We are healing. Ben is healing.
“Good. I was thinking we could go sightseeing. I hear there’s a fair in town.”
“Ferris wheels! Yay!” I laugh like a little kid, all giddy and turning to mush on the inside.
“You like Ferris wheels?” I nod rapidly and lean up, planting a quick kiss against his warm lips before pulling back.
“I’ll explain when you get me on one!” I yell excitedly, heading for the door. I’m ready to get off this bus and spend a worry-free afternoon with Ben. Whatever is happening feels good, and I chase out all the doubts to live in this moment.
“All right, guess we’re going. See you later, boys.”
* * *
“Snuggle in close, baby.” We get comfortable on the Ferris wheel, stomachs full of hot dogs, cotton candy, and enough soda to have a sugar high for a month. I place the teddy bear he won me in the empty space next to me and snuggle in close.
The cart starts to rise, and I close my eyes, taking in a deep breath, feeling alive for the first time in weeks. I use all my senses and feel Ben all around me. I’ve missed him, missed the unexpected touches, the laughter, the passionate whispers. I love when he’s fully here with me like he was when we first met.
“Why Ferris wheels?” he asks, planting a kiss on my temple.
“Papa asked Mama to marry him at the top of a Ferris wheel.”
“Nice. I knew Stanley had game.”
“Hardly. He was a romantic.” I shrug, opening my eyes when the wind catches my hair and the ride stops. Looking around at the scenery from the top of the Ferris wheel truly brings me peace. Ben’s brown eyes watch me intensely.
“About that. Sorry I’ve been slacking in the romance department.” The Northern California sun is setting, and you can see the ocean in the distance, glistening with yellows and vibrant oranges.
“You’ve been preoccupied,” I admit, kissing his neck.
“Thank you for helping me. I can’t imagine it’s been easy on you.”
“It hasn’t, but it’s been worth it.”
“Is it?” he questions. This gets my full attention.
“What do you mean?”
“Do you still love me as much as you did the day we got married?” I cradle his cheeks; the setting sun casts a halo around his handsome face. He looks like an angel.
“I love you more every day. For better or worse, remember?” I take my other hand and tangle our fingers together. Bringing his lips to mine, I give his ring a gentle kiss. I never want him to doubt my love for him. Ever. “You’re my better half.”
“You’re mine.” He smiles, and we kiss again, this time not separating. We go around a few more times until the sun is gone and the night air has grown colder.
“What do you say we get out of here? I got us a hotel room. I hear the beds are comfortable, and the hot tub is screaming our names.” He is one step ahead of me. I was planning to show up at the nearest place and see what rooms they had. Clearly, we both need a night away.
“Sounds like a plan, baby.” He winks, and we climb off the Ferris wheel and catch a cab, stopping at the bus just long enough to grab some overnight items before hitting the hotel. He planned this so well: this place is truly stunning, like something out of one of my romance novels.
Once inside the room, Ben excuses himself to have a smoke, and I take a minute to take my test. With all the time we have spent today laughing and talking, now feels like the perfect time. I wait the three minutes, thinking about a beautiful little baby who looks like Ben: big brown eyes, a raspy little voice, and pouty baby lips. All this time, Ben and I have never really talked about children. We agreed that we want to be sure I don’t get pregnant right now, but that was it. Yes, we are young, but we were young when we got married. From day one, we were anything but traditional.
I can see a better life where Ben is content and sober with a little girl perched on his knee, learning to play the piano. I think of all the ways Ben would be a great father, and call me naive, but maybe this is the cure. My phone timer goes off, and I take the world’s longest, deepest breath.
Here we go.
Lifting the test, I stare at the word flashing across the tiny screen.
Pregnant . Pregnant . Pregnant .
I read it over and over again; my eyes are glistening, and my smile deepens. We’re pregnant. I’m going be a mother—Ben is going be a daddy—the best one there ever was. This is our blessing after a hard start to our marriage. All we fought for is here and now; it feels surreal, but our love’s purpose is fulfilled. This has to be a good sign. The universe, God, anything that brings in blessings after storms is working for us.
“Baby, let’s take a bath!” Ben calls from the other side of the bathroom door.
“Yes! Okay, one second.” I hide the test, unable to wipe the smile from my face. Forget trying to calm the butterflies dancing wildly in my stomach. Closing my toiletry bag right as he opens the door, I spin and smile at him. His tall, lean, yet muscular form takes up nearly the entire doorway.
He’s already undressed down to his boxer briefs, and I’m overwhelmed at the sight. Four minutes ago he was just my husband, and I thought that made my love for him strong, but now he’s the father to our child, and that love seems to reach depths I didn’t know existed.
“What’s that big smile for, angel? You’re fucking glowing.” Wrapping his tattooed arm around me, he swoops me up in that breathtaking way he always does, but today it feels more special.
“It was a beautiful day with you. How about that bath?”
* * *
“I really loved your letter. You have a way with words, angel.”
“I have to keep up with my lyrical husband.” I’m snuggled between Ben’s legs in the hot tub, his arms wrapped around my shoulders and his hands dangling lazily near my chest. I play with his long, thick fingers covered with callouses from all the instruments he plays.
“You do all right for yourself.” We laugh in unison.
“How do you feel?” I ask the question of the day. I wonder if he feels the same way I do. Like there is a light at the end of this tunnel, and we are so close to the other side.
“About?”
“Your sobriety. Is it getting easier?” He waits to answer, his body relaxed behind me. I hope we’re safe to talk about it. The last thing I want to do is burst this bubble of peace we made today.
“Yes and no. Some days, it’s almost unbearable.”
“Is the therapy helping?” Ben and I know that he’s committed to this tour. Even though Dr. Danivah suggested we cancel the rest of the tour to see more effective results and for the overall benefit to his mental health, Ben insisted on continuing. In exchange, he has dedicated more time to therapy on the road, and when this tour is over, he has agreed to take a year off for proper treatment. Relapsing is more likely with this type of untraditional therapy, and Ben’s circumstances are more complex than he and I first realized.
“It’s working for the moment, but if I’m going stay clean, I need to get proper treatment and go to groups. The year off will be hard, but it’s going to be what helps this stick.” He says exactly what I’m thinking. In my opinion, his self-awareness and ability to admit what he once denied may be the biggest improvement he’s made.
“You want that?” I’m hesitant to ask, that fear of his resentment sneaking back in. He can want this now, but will he want it forever? Did we do this the right way, or are we setting ourselves up for a bigger downfall?
“I want you, Sadie, and I can’t keep bringing you down with me.” I drop my eyes to the still water.
“Are you going to resent me one day?” The last thing I want in this life or any life hereafter is to have Ben look at me as a regret.
“You saved my life. Getting clean is something I needed to do.”
“I’m not a savior, Ben. I’m selfish, and I want you here forever. The thought of you overdosing or fighting and getting . . .” I can’t even mumble the word. I fall silent; he knows the dangers without me saying it out loud.
“I realize that. Don’t worry, angel. I’m getting there. It’s okay.”
The water is hot, but my body feels chilled, and the shiver in my spine is all I notice.
“I want you to come to my next therapy session with me. The one I have scheduled when we get back. My first in person after this leg.”
“What?” I turn, facing him, the water sloshing around us.
“I want you there.” His eyes zero in on me. This is the one thing I’ve been holding onto. The last bit of space between us. He has never let me into that part of his life, and now he wants to. He wants me there.
“Are you sure you’re ready for that?”
“I’ve never been more scared to let someone in that deep, but you aren’t just someone, Sadie.” I’m left breathless. I’m not just someone. I’m the one. He let me in. I broke down that wall. We have this. The battlefield fog is clearing, and we are finding our way back to safety.
“All I wanted was for you to feel like you’d gotten back something that you lost when your mother died. A home. I hope that when all is said and done, you will see what I see in you every day. You are not what he did. You are you, and your soul is so beautiful. You have power in you.” My voice cracks, captivated by his strength and by the battles he has fought to simply let someone love him. To let me love him.
“Fuck, I love you.”
“And I love you.” With our love surrounding us like a bubble, I know it’s the right time to share our news.
“I have to tell you something.” I hold his face in my hands and straddle his waist. His cock grows under me, and reaching between us, I begin to stroke the smooth, pronounced shaft with my small palm.
“Oh shit.” He drops his head back and groans, his throat bobbing.
“You know how much I love you?” He lifts his head with difficulty as I sit up on my knees and line him up with my entrance.
“More than I deserve.” He grabs my hips and takes control, guiding me down on his cock. I moan from the invasion; it spreads me open, and the connection of skin on skin with our news on the tip of my eager tongue has me confessing.
“Ben, I’m pregnant,” I cry as he slams me down again. Opening my eyes once I’m settled with no further movement, I see him staring at me wide-eyed.
“What?”
I smile, nodding. “I’m pregnant.”
“No. No, you’re not. Fuck.” Lifting me off him, he puts space between us and stands, grabbing a towel and leaving the bathroom faster than I have time to process what’s happening. When my brain starts working again and I regain my bearings, I realize he didn’t take that the way I thought he would. I look around, panicked. I read this all wrong.
My body goes cold and numb. I told my husband I’m pregnant, and he physically pushed me away. I hear him cursing outside the bathroom, and that sets me into motion. Climbing out of the tub, I do a terrible job of toweling off and tie my robe sloppily.
Rounding the corner into the bedroom, I see he’s now fully dressed and pacing a hole into the carpet.
“Ben, what was that?” I ask, stepping up to him.
“You’re pregnant? Tell me this is a joke.”
I step back, my body freezing up. A small gasp escapes from my lips. I’m more than hurt by that comment—I’m devastated. How could he call our child an attempt at a joke?
“You’re such an asshole. How could you say that at a moment like this?”
“How could you get pregnant!” he yells, stopping his pacing and turning on me.
“Excuse me, but you were there too. I didn’t do this alone or on purpose, if that is the next thing you plan to accuse me of!” I can’t believe he’s reacting like this.
“You are in charge of taking your pill. This is your fault!” I almost slap him after that degrading statement.
“I can’t believe you. I don’t even know who you are right now, Ben.”
“You know who I am. I don’t want a fucking child. Have you not been here these past few months, Sadie?” he yells, the veins in his neck swelling.
“Stop talking about our child like that! Stop talking to me like that!” I get in his face, ready to give him a taste of what he is dishing out. “You said one day, and yes, the timing isn’t ideal, but we knew the risk. Any birth control can fail!”
“I said maybe.” His voice lowers. “I said maybe one day when we talked about it.”
Did he say maybe? Thinking back to that night, I can’t remember. We were both in post-sexual bliss when we had that talk. I must have missed it. If he said maybe, I would have said something. But I didn’t.
“Why didn’t you tell me that maybe was actually a fucking no then, Ben!”
“Well, maybe sure as hell isn’t a yes either. For me it isn’t, at least!” It’s as if I’m arguing with a stranger. The stark difference between a lover and an enemy is glaring. Ben is really doing this right now. His chest is heaving, and his hot breath comes out heavily against my face. “I don’t want a child.”
“Well, I’m not going to give up my child.” Is he asking me what I think he is? He wouldn’t ask me to have an abortion, would he? God, who is he? I think I’m going to be sick.
“I guess we’re at odds then,” he hisses, leaving a cold draft in his wake as he grabs his jacket and storms out.
I fall to my knees and scream into my hands, the tears pouring out of me. My heart is trying to escape out of my chest by squeezing its way through my throat. I feel bile rising, and I run to the bathroom, losing everything—physically and emotionally. I vomit so violently, my ribs start to hurt.
When nothing is left, I stand and look in the mirror. I shake my head and continue to cry, my heart no longer whole, my mind no longer sane. I’ve lost a part of me, and Ben took it.
I see the test in my bag, and like my heart snapped, so do I. I take the test and throw it across the bathroom, watching it shatter and bounce off the wall. Looking back in the mirror, I see the broken woman I have become. I see everything I abandoned to be what he needed. The cross that adorns my neck every waking hour mocks me. I grab it and rip it clear off in one tug.
Just like he left me, I abandon myself and my faith. Nothing can take back what was said and done tonight. Nothing.