46. Marley
46
MARLEY
H e bought a house.
He seriously bought a fucking house without talking to me about it. If I weren’t so hormonally cranky, I’d probably swoon from the sweet and thoughtful gesture. Yet, I can’t find it in myself to behave rationally right now. He did something so huge, something that people usually discuss for months—even years—on his own, and without consulting me. It hurts knowing that I was so close to handing my heart over to him, only for this to take me back so many steps.
The only consulting we did was a brief mention over a month ago.
Beau and I aren’t together, well, not officially at least. This is not something that people who aren’t really together do. They don’t buy each other houses to co-parent their children in. Right?
I climb into the car, slamming my door shut behind me. I watch as Beau carefully locks the house up and saunters over to the car. He looks defeated, and it kills me that I put that look on his face, but one of us needs to be smart so we both don’t get lost in our feelings.
Beau gets into the car, and I turn my gaze away. I can’t look at him right now, and I can’t look at the beautiful house in front of me. I rest my hand on my curved stomach, willing myself to be strong.
As we drive, I feel myself slipping. Slipping into a place I know all too well, and the person that I usually trust to get me out of it is the one who put me there. When we pull into my driveway, I remember all the stuff we have to bring inside. I drop my head back against the headrest, withholding my groan.
Beau reads my mind, looking behind him at the stuffed vehicle. “I’ll bring everything in, and we can sort through it tomorrow. Go take a shower and relax.”
He doesn’t mention talking about the house, and for that, I’m grateful. I don’t know that I have the emotional capacity for a civil conversation tonight. Nodding, I unbuckle my seatbelt, gasping slightly at a tightening, cramping sensation across my stomach. I clutch my hand to my bump, wincing at the discomfort. It’s not horrible, like a strong period cramp, but it’s definitely not comfortable. It eases within a moment. Beau must not have realized since he was already out of the car when it happened, or he likely would have lost his mind, worrying something was wrong.
Beau opens my door, and I try to pretend like everything’s normal. He helps me out, and I grab my bag from the floor, heading toward the house. Beau takes a load of things and follows.
I hold open the door for him, and then I’m heading down the hall toward my room. I need to get out of this bra, out of this dress. I’m overwhelmed, and just so freaking over this day. Am I being ridiculous? I don’t really think so. This is why I’ve been so hesitant, so careful with my heart for all these years. I’m overstimulated, hot, tired, and frustrated and ready to be asleep and done with this day.
I hear Beau bring load after load of things into the guest bedroom, which used to be his room. He hasn’t slept in there for a while, and the small, petty part of myself wants to make him sleep in there tonight, but I won’t. Because even though I’m mad, and essentially breaking my own heart, I can’t bear to have him away from me. Again, I need him more than he will ever know, than I will admit to anyone. If I can’t have him in my corner, I’ll lose myself.
I strip out of my clothes, throwing on my comfy sweats and shirt that I had to buy just to fit me. None of my actual clothes fit anymore. I draw back the covers of the bed, ready to be done with this day.
The babies are active, kicking and punching my ribs, stomach, and bladder. Almost like they are trying to get me to see reason—that Beau wasn’t thinking maliciously when he did this without me, he’s doing this for us. To provide for the family we are making, our future.
They are always more active when he’s around. They recognize his voice, know that their dad is there and he’ll protect them the way he’s always protected me. The man himself enters the room. I keep my eyes closed and my hand resting on my stomach, feeling them kick and assault me from the inside. The mattress shifts behind me, and Beau’s warmth rests behind my back. Every night, he holds me until I fall asleep. Of course, it doesn’t last long because I’ll usually wake up soon after, having to pee or take a layer off since I sweat through the first one.
His palm splays over my belly the same way it does every night. Tonight, no words pass between us, just silence while I lose myself to my weary thoughts.
Beau was still asleep when I woke up for the day an hour ago. I wasn’t ready to get up by any means, but the babies were. I’m snuggled into the couch, trying to read a book but failing. I’ve read the same passage about four times now, and I can’t seem to process the words. My mind feels like an endless black hole, unable to crawl out, this constant negative loop of feelings about Beau, all the conflicting feelings of loving him and the idea of a life together, or keeping my distance, afraid to be burned.
“Hey,” Beau greets as he saunters into the living room.
“Hi,” I reply, slamming my book shut and setting it onto the table beside me. Beau sinks onto the couch, scooting close to me. Now that I’ve had some time to think, I have come to a few conclusions. “We should probably talk.”
He nods, starting, “I should have talked to you first. I know that. I regret not including you in this decision, but I don’t regret doing it. I think you will love the house, and I can’t imagine not living there with you, raising our children there together.” He finishes with a long exhale.
“You should have talked to me. How did you expect me to react, Beau? I told you I needed to take things one step at a time, and instead, you jumped in head first, buying a house. Your house isn’t even on the market yet!” My voice is rising as well as my frustration.
“My house already has a contingent offer,” he refutes. “I tried to take the thinking out of this for you, Marley. I tried to make this easier for you, but yet, I’m still getting the third-degree.”
“You can’t blame this on me!” I yell, trying to sit up now, and move away from him. “What part of this being a partnership don’t you get?”
“Oh, so we are partners now? Every time someone brings our relationship status up, you shut down. Yet, in private, it seems like you’re more than happy to have me play the part of your boyfriend.” Beau stands from the couch, rubbing his face in irritation.
“How is this on me?”
Beau groans. “I’m not saying this is on you. I’m just… Fuck Marley, can’t you see how much I love you? How much I want this for our future? I feel like all you are thinking about is the right now, instead of planning for our life together.”
It feels like a serrated knife has just been stabbed into my heart and twisted, shredding the muscle and every piece of me with it.
“We both know that we have been fighting feelings for each other for so long, but why? Why can’t you just give in and let me love you?” His voice is strained, the pain visible in his face.
I shrink back into the couch, wiping a tear that has slid down my cheeks. “What happens when you get sick of me?” I ask.
Beau scoffs, not getting it. “You’ve been my best friend for nearly twenty years, Mar. If I haven’t gotten sick of you yet, why would I now? I’ve been trying to make you see that I’m all in, since day one. What do I have to do to prove it to you? To get you to believe me for once?”
“I don’t know,” I shout. “But what if you do! I don’t want to lose the one person who really knows me. You are the one person I can rely on when I fall into that dark hole. You’ve single handedly picked me up more times than I can count. The playing field is always uneven. You’re always the one helping me, but when have I ever helped you? What do I bring to this relationship?”
“You!” Beau cries. His face is red, eyes glassy as he steps back toward me. “You bring yourself to the relationship, and that’s all I’ve ever wanted. You keep me sane, you’re the one I tell all my secrets to, the one I will love until my dying breath. I love you, Marley. I’ve loved you since we were kids, swimming in the lake, riding our bikes to school every morning. I’ve loved you every day since the day we met. And I’ve lived every day, in pain, wanting you with every fiber of my being, but never letting myself have you, because I couldn’t. Do you know why?” he asks.
I shake my head, dropping my gaze.
“Our dads.”
Confusion rattles in my brain. What do our dads have anything to do with this? “What?” I ask.
Beau rests his hands on his hips. “The day after we got our ‘Dead Sea’ tattoo, the day I kissed you…” He pauses for only a moment. “I went to ask your dad permission to date you. I wasn’t going to let you shut me down like you had. I was ready to fight for you.”
I remember that day vividly, how I shut him down, how I was so convinced he was going to tell me we couldn’t do that again. I built the walls before we even had a chance. “What happened?” I ask.
Beau chuckles. “My dad was there too, and they both told me no. That we shouldn’t, not if we wanted to keep our friendship. Me, being the dramatic eighteen-year-old that I was, took it personal. I thought they meant that I wasn’t, and would never be good enough for you. It hurt, but… in retrospect, maybe we weren’t ready.”
My heart hurts for the younger version of the man standing in front of me. It seems that we have both been our own worst enemies. Both of us are fighting something that seems to be so inevitable. So clear to everyone around us, but both of us so blind to it.
“The morning we found out you were pregnant, I went over to your parents’ house. Gabriel actually laughed at me, told me it’d taken me long enough. Don’t you think we’ve waited long enough? Why do we have to fight this?”
“I’m scared,” I admit. “I’m a lot. You of all people know this. You’re the only one I call when things get bad, when I’m low. I can feel myself slipping, even now, and I don’t know what to do.”
Beau moves to sit back down beside me, the heated argument seemingly done, for now at least.
I continue as he sits by me, “Neither of us have been in a successful relationship before. To be transparent, I don’t think I’ve ever even been in a real one. I’ve watched, as both of us have failed with others throughout the years. I’ve watched you end relationship after relationship, leaving the person gutted and yearning. I can’t let that be us, I can’t give myself over to you completely, knowing that we both aren’t ready for this, for a future that we are together, and not just together for our children.” My voice shakes, and I can feel the steady stream of tears as they fall down my cheeks.
Marley,” he croons, “The reason I’ve never been in a successful relationship, the reason I am always the one to end things, is because they weren’t you . They were never the one person I wanted. I’m here, Marley. You are who I live my life for. And now, these babies are a part of that too. I want to be the best partner for you, the best dad for our children.”
I lean into him, letting myself fall into his familiar warmth. “Where do we go from here?” I ask.
“I guess that’s up to you,” Beau says. “We can set up a meeting with one of my co-workers, Jake, and he can talk us through everything, the offer, the closing date, everything. Or,” he pauses, like he really doesn’t want to say it, “I can look over the contract again, and see what will happen if I back out.” What he doesn’t say is that by doing so, he’d likely lose money, maybe more.
“No,” I tell him, squeezing his hand where it rests on my thigh. “Let’s… let’s set up a meeting. I need to look at things from a technical standpoint. I mean, Beau, can we even afford this house?”
“We can,” he says. “The house is priced really well, and with the money I’ll make on the sale of my house, we can put that toward it.” He stops, clearing his throat. “And if you choose to sell this house, we might be able to make some money on it as well.”
I glance around my living room, and the home I’ve made. Deep down, I know that what he’s saying is true, we can do this. I just have to get my brain on board with my heart.
Rolling my lips, I pause, choosing my words carefully. “I love the house. I really do. I just don’t like that you made this huge decision without me. I’m thirty-one weeks pregnant with twins, Beau.”
He nods, grimacing. “I shouldn’t have done it. I regret that I did it without talking to you, Marley. I thought if I could eliminate the hard part for you, it would make it easy for you to say yes.”
“I get it, I really do, and I appreciate the thought.” I pause, trying to gather my next words. “I want to be your partner. I want to not be scared, and I want to be all in with you, the way that you are with me. But for me to do that, we need to communicate, and clearly, we haven’t been doing that.”
Beau nods, squeezing my leg. “So, we communicate, we work through things together. No more buying houses without talking to each other,” he jokes.
I chuckle, and repeat, “No more buying houses without talking to each other.”