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I let them both down.
I was a rotten son of a bitch. If my grandma could be here to watch what I was doing, she'd tell me there was a special place in hell for people like me.
I covered Chelsea with a blanket and watched her angelic sleeping face. That malefic voice in the back of my head was telling me that this was the best for everybody. I was doing this so Chelsea, Rita and I could be happy.
To be fair, Rita was several hours on a hospital bed, and no one had even called to ask what she was doing.
...On the negative side, I fucking kidnapped her. It just felt normal to have her around. Every time I realized how unfair it was to put her through all this pain and drama, stole her life, I looked at her and things started to snap in place.
When Chelsea threw that tantrum in the kitchen, she was petrified, and my insides turned into a knot from seeing her like that, but this dark part of me kept whispering that it was fine: just look how beautiful she looks holding your daughter. I just couldn’t seem to find the strength to live a Ritaless life anymore.
And what if she remembered?
I was too weak to think about that moment. Right then, all I knew was that I needed to find her and calm her nerves, make her stay another minute.
In the kitchen, Rita was drinking water from a tall glass and looking at the patio through the window. I walked over, embracing her body from behind and rested my chin on her shoulder.
"Are you alright?" I didn’t get an answer; instead, she changed the subject.
"It seems like it is about to rain."
"Rita..."
"What do you want me to say, James? I'm sorry."
I froze and crooked my neck to watch her stunningly beautiful profile.
"Sorry?"
"You left me with Chelsea for two minutes and all I was capable to do was make the poor child scream her lungs out. Was I that horrible before?"
"Love, look at me." She didn’t, so I grabbed her by the chin and made her face me. "Chelsea was tired; kids cry all the time; you did nothing wrong. She is an infant, and trust me, there's going to be way more from where that come from."
"You knew what to do."
"I put her to sleep, and I know these things from you." I closed my mind and realized what a blunt lie this was.
"It still feels like I'm failing her over and over again."
"So do I. No one knows how to raise kids; we're just a bunch of clueless idiots running around, trying to keep small humans from dying."
She leaned into me and laughed.
"Is this the secret? Keep her alive, and everything will turn out fine?"
"And love her." I watched her with fear, scared of what was coming next. "Rita, do you...?"
"I do. I think it's impossible not to. She's a beautiful little thing. I know I'd do anything to keep her happy, but I don't know how."
All my mind could focus on was that she was too good to be true. Her beautiful soul shined through all the thick darkness that my lies had descended upon us.
"That is enough." I said, determined. It was more than her mother did. I shook my head, refusing to bring Avery into this; there was too much dirt as it was. "Chelsea will be out for at least a couple hours. How about I order some lunch? We can talk more over some pasta from that restaurant I was telling you about."
"Gah, I love pasta. But what if bebe wakes up?" The way she said bebe in Spanish made my heart skip a beat. It sounded personal and caring, and I wasn't lying when I said that was all a kid needed.
"We'll see her on the baby monitor."
"Right." Shame colored her cheeks once again.
