22. Chapter Twenty-Two ~ Emma
Chapter Twenty-Two ~ Emma
Just tell him . The voice inside my head is practically screaming at me but I keep trying to shove the thought away. I don’t want to tell him.
I don’t know what will happen if I tell him.
Will he be angry with me?
Is it going to be a dealbreaker if he finds out about my family?
It’s a little late for that, don’t you think?
I sigh and sink down onto my bed.
Eventually it’s all going to come out. And maybe it would be better if it happened sooner rather than later …
Or maybe I can just keep compartmentalizing my life the way I have been.
I sigh and decide I’m just going to try and get some sleep. I can’t keep going over this in my head. Can’t keep stressing out and trying to piece it all together myself.
And I have to go to work the next day. Luckily he gives me a little space from there. The next day he doesn’t actually go out of his way to talk to me at all. Just looks across the room at me a few times and that heat is still there in his eyes. Still just as strong as ever.
Of course, I’m still wearing the Mardi Gras costume for the next few days so that definitely helps. Though a part of me knows he stared at me like that before I had this particular costume as well.
But I’m not sure just how much space I want. Or how long I’m going to want this to continue. Or how long he’ll allow it to continue.
By the time I leave work I’m ready to go home and collapse, but I promised to go back by the house and check in with Mom and Leann. She was feeling better when I was there last night but I’m not risking anything. I want a chance to take a look at her and see for myself.
Though this time I’m wary about whether I’m being followed. I’m watching my review mirror to see if Chris is tailing me. But there’s no one there as far as I can tell.
“How is she?” I ask, as soon as I get to the door and the weary smile on Mom’s face is reassuring.
“It was a long night. But overall, she seems to be doing much better. No fever. If she holds out for the next couple days they can do another treatment.”
“How’s she feeling?”
“She says she feels great. But she always says that,” Mom replies and I shake my head.
“Well, I’ll go in and check on her. I brought her something.” I hold up the bag in my hand and it must be a testament to how tired Mom is that she doesn’t say anything about it.
Instead, I’m able to come into the house and make it to Leann’s room without her usual concerns about where it’s all coming from and what they’re going to do with it.
“Hey there,” I say as I walk through the door and it’s obvious right away that Leann is feeling a bit better.
For one thing, she’s actually sitting up in the bed, leaning back against the headboard. For another, she’s combed her hair and she’s got lip gloss on. Her signature ‘I’m ready’ look.
“Hey, you’re back.”
“I brought you something.”
“Is it loaded fries and a strawberry shake from the Shake Palace?” she asks and I glance over to Mom, confused.
“Um … no. But I wasn’t told that’s what you wanted.”
“She needs to get her strength up. And that means eating healthier foods,” Mom insists and Leann rolls her eyes.
These conversations are relatively common as well, with both of them complaining about eating habits.
“So … what I brought you is …” I pull out a robe and she practically squeals in delight. She loved the cashmere sweater the last time so I thought she might like this.
It was cashmere too and had been hanging in the bathroom since I arrived. A pink color with plenty of plushy softness and Leann snatches it right away, pulling it to her face.
“This is amazing. I love it!”
“Just where is all this money coming from, Emma?” Mom asks as Leann immediately sits up and starts slipping on the robe.
“It’s all from a good place, Mom. Don’t worry about it.”
“I don’t like it. We’re struggling along for how long and all of a sudden you have all this money?”
“Mom, I promise, I’m not doing anything wrong.”
She gives me a stern look but I’ve never been able to lie to my mother and she knows it. So when I can easily meet her gaze, she knows that I must be telling the truth. “Fine. But I want to know what is really going on.”
“Soon,” I tell her, because I’m sure that I won’t be able to keep all of this a secret from everyone for long. Eventually I’m going to start actually showing and I’ll have to tell them about the baby. And that means I’ll also have to tell them about Chris. And all of that is giving me a headache again so I turn back to Leann who is still luxuriating in the soft material.
“This is perfect.”
“Better than Shake Palace?” I tease and she pauses a moment, rubbing the side of her face with the inside of the robe.
“Maybe,” she acknowledges and we all laugh.
“How about I make some waffles?”
“If you’re going to use the whole wheat batter can you at least bring the good syrup?” Leann asks and with a small smile and a nod from Mom, I agree.
I’m in agreement with Leann overall. The whole wheat waffles definitely wouldn’t be my pick either. But they’re better for her and if they’re better for Leann then we all do it. It’s been that way ever since she was diagnosed.
Of course, with the amount of syrup that Leann and I heap onto our waffles I’m not sure any of the health benefits remain, but Mom doesn’t say anything. She’s just happy that Leann is eating normally today. And that she seems to be in her normal state of mind.
By the time I leave, I’m definitely feeling better.
Everything seems to be going well.
But of course, it’s not just going to go away. Chris is still going to want to know about everything and I still don’t know what to say.
I’m going to need some help.
Which is why immediately after I wake up the next morning I call Becky.
“We need to talk.”
“I’m here whenever,” she tells me and again I am grateful for the fact that Becky works from home. It means whenever I want to meet with her, she’s there.
And today when I walk through the door there are already two wine glasses set out on the table.
“It’s non-alcoholic,” she says in response to my questioning look and I gratefully take a sip. It’s definitely not the same as real wine, but it’s something at least. She doesn’t even need to ask what’s happening because the story pours out of me.
“Everything is just going differently than I planned. I thought we would just do this and it would be fine and everything would be just normal. I mean, as normal as it can be when you’re having a baby with someone you don’t really know.”
“I thought that I would move in there and we would have this sort of … distant relationship and I would have the baby and he would just kind of be in the house, but that’s it, right? But that’s not how it is. I’ve gotten to know him and I’ve met his family and I’ve seen the way he is with his niece and how he is about his work and how he actually feels about the baby and he treats me so much differently than I expected.”
“I’m not just a houseguest or the mother of his child; it’s like he actually cares about me and I know that’s stupid but I can’t stop thinking about it and … just … everything is so different than I expected.”
“Sweetie, that’s what happens when you fall in love with someone,” Becky says softly and I drop my head into my hands.
“But he’s not in love with me. If I’m in love with him, well, that’s my own stupidity. He’s never once said that he feels that way.”
“But how does he act? You said he acts like he actually cares about you. What is he doing?”
“Just, talking to me. Asking me about things. Buying me presents. He took me to meet his family. I mean, that wasn’t really necessary at this point.”
“I think there might be something going on from his side as well,” she tells me but I don’t know what to think. I don’t want to get too caught up in this. Don’t want to acknowledge my own feelings too much. Definitely don’t want to try psychoanalyzing his, because what if I’m wrong? And I get my hopes up only to get hurt?
I say finally, “What about my family?”
“What about them?” Becky asks, brow furrowed. “Your mom and Leann will just be happy that you’re happy. And they’ll be absolutely thrilled about the baby.”
“They’re poor, Becky. I’m poor. Or I was until this whole thing started. And he’s rich beyond belief. You should have seen the amount of money he spent on the baby’s room without even flinching. He didn’t so much as blink.”
“So? What does that matter?”
“What if I tell him about my family and our lives and he doesn’t like it? What if he turns me out?”
“Then he’s a loser and an ass and he doesn’t deserve you or the baby you’re carrying.”
She makes it sound so easy. So straightforward. But I’m starting to wonder if I’m strong enough to accept that kind of answer.
“Look, if you really care about him and you love him and you want anything more with him, you’re going to have to open up to him eventually. You’ll need to tell him about your past and your family and everything that you’ve gone through. And if he’s actually worthy of you then it won’t matter to him.”
I sigh. She’s right. And I know it in one sense. But it’s hard to accept. Hard to allow myself to acknowledge something that sounds so much like an ultimatum because I’m not sure I’m ready to accept the answer if he says no.