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In the midst of getting everything I’d ever thought I wanted, I felt more sad and alone than ever. Delia had taken to dropping by, bringing baby gifts—mostly passing on things her girls didn’t need anymore. It was a relief, actually, to see a small pile of baby things growing in the corner of my living room. The baby swing, the first car seat. I’d priced those things online and had no real clue how I’d manage to pay for them all. But Delia—and Pamela, too—reminded me that I wasn’t completely alone in this. And soon, I thought, I’d never really be alone again.
When Oliver showed up at my apartment after work on a random Tuesday night, I had no idea what to expect. He looked haggard and worn, his eyes dull and downcast.
“Hi,” I managed, standing in the open door.
He stared at me, his eyes tracing my face and making me both self-conscious and slightly overheated. “Hi,” he returned. His voice was heavy and rough. It made me want to reach out and comfort him, but the thought reminded me that I was angry, that he’d accused me of lying, that he didn’t trust me.
“What do you need?” I asked, keeping my voice as steady as I could.
He shook his head, ran a hand through the hair at the back of his neck. “Can I come in for a minute?”
I shrugged and stepped back, waving him in. He walked to the couch and sat down. I watched his gaze find my growing tower of baby goods in the corner.
“We need to talk,” he said.
I didn’t sit. I needed to stay strong even if I didn’t feelstrong, and that meant standing. Remembering who I was and that I’d done nothing wrong here. “You can talk,” I said. “You can start with an apology.”
That caught his attention and he looked up at me and raised an eyebrow. “You deserve one,” he agreed. “I jumped to conclusions, and it wasn’t fair. I believe you. I believe that the baby is . . .” His voice trailed off and his gaze fell.
“It’s yours.”
“Right.” He looked up at me. “God, Holland.” He rubbed his hands up the sides of his face, and that was when I noticed again the dark lines around his eyes, the pallor of his cheeks. His voice sounded like gravel.
Despite my resolve to keep my distance, to be angry, I couldn’t help the way my heart squeezed at the pain in his voice. I loved this man, even after weeks of anger, even though he’d hurt me. “Are you okay?” The solemn dark eyes found mine, and the sadness I saw there made me want to cry. I sat beside him, my guard melting. “What is it?” I whispered. Something must have happened. What else could have Oliver looking so completely devastated and upset?
Oliver took my hand as we sat, and he looked at it like he thought he might never see it again and wanted to memorize every line and scar. Finally, his eyes met mine and I found myself wishing for another few seconds before he spoke. Or maybe another few hours or days. Whatever was about to come couldn’t be good, and I felt my heart beating faster in anticipation of whatever it was.
“I don’t know how to say this . . .” he began and then trailed off, dropping his eyesagain to my hand.
“Say what?” My own voice was small and afraid. I cleared my throat and straightened my back, pulling up some strength. Whatever it was, I’d handle it. I wasn’t the kind of girl who let life beat her up without a fight. “Just say it, Oliver. Whatever it is, I can handle it.”
A tiny smile crossed his sculpted lips, but it wasn’t a happy smile. His eyes flicked to mine and then dropped again. “I’m in love with you, Holland.”
“I love you, too,” I said, my body warming. But something was still not right. This wasn’t a reconciliation. My heart went still and I realized that hadn’t been the thing he needed to say. A shiver went through me. “What?” I whispered.
Finally, he met my eye, and I saw his CEO persona slide into place. His face cleared, the dark eyes turned to steel. “My feelings for you don’t matter,” he said. “Because what matters right now, and what will matter for the rest of your life, is the baby. You’re a ready-made family, and loving you means being ready to accept the role of father without any resentment, second thoughts, or harbored regrets.”
My blood iced and I pulled my hand from Oliver’s. “And . . . ?”
His lips pressed into a hard line as he stared at me, and he said nothing. After what felt like an hour, his eyes softened and he opened his mouth and then closed it. He swallowed hard and then said the words I’d been afraid he would say since the moment I’d told him I was pregnant. “You deserve the very best, Holland. You and our baby. You need a man who is prepared to dedicate his life to his family, who knowswith one hundred percent certainty that he is ready to be a father.” He shook his head. “I don’t know that. I love you, I definitely know that. But I don’t know if I’m ready for a family. I’m still so fucked up over everything that happened with my parents—and this all happened so fast. I don’t want to screw things up, and you need someone who’s sure.”
I couldn’t speak. I felt like he was cutting a cord between us and setting me adrift alone on some vast unknown lake. I could see the fear flickering in his eyes and I wanted to scream at him for being a coward. Couldn’t he see that I was afraid, too? But I had no choice. Anger pulsed in me, and then a sense of betrayal overwhelmed me, mixed with an infinite sadness. Everything flooded my mind at once, and I was completely overwhelmed. I felt myself shaking my head.
“I’m so sorry, Holland. I want to be here, I want to stay. But it wouldn’t be right to change my mind later. What if the baby arrived and I realized then that I couldn’t do it? What if it took me a year to see that I couldn’t be a father, that I’m not cut out for it?”
Anger was winning out over the other emotions and my cells felt like they were vibrating within my limbs. I stood and walked away from him, spinning to face him from the center of my living room.
“That’s fine,” I said, barely able to speak past the indignant rage I felt. “You’re right, we’ll be better off than we would have been if you’d pulled this shit a year from now.” I turned away from him and shook my head, pressing my hands to my face and hoping the tears would remain at bay until he was gone. “It must be nice to have a choice,” Ibellowed, turning to face him again. “Don’t you think I’m scared? I don’t know if I’m ready for any of this, either, but this is what’s happening. I think life just comes at you, Oliver. You don’t get to control every little aspect of it, you just get to react.”
He stood, looking completely miserable, and that made me even more angry. He didn’t get to feel sad, he was the one who did this! “I’m so sorry, Holland, I?—”
“I don’t want you to be sorry,” I said. “I want you to leave.” I hissed the last part, hating the way I was losing control.
“I have something else to say,” he said, and I just stared at him. “Even if I’m not present in a physical way, the baby will never need anything.” He pulled a credit card out of his wallet and placed it on my small table along with a packet of paper. “I opened this account for you and the baby. All the bank information is here. I’ll fund the account whenever it gets low, and if there are any major expenses . . .” he trailed off, and I watched him gather himself. “I’ll support you both,” he said simply.
I shook my head, shocked that he believed money could make up for his actual presence in a baby’s life. “I’m not yours to worry about anymore. You’re free. You can go back to being single and unattached. You don’t owe me a thing.” I pulled the front door open and waved my hand to the street outside. “Go on. Go be free, Oliver. The weight is lifted.”
He shook his head. “It’s not that I want to be free,” he moaned. “But Holland, I don’t even know what family is. This is the one thing in life I really don’t have a clue about. Ithought it all made sense before, and now . . . honestly, the thought I could hurt someone as deeply as Adam and Sonja hurt me—the idea that I would have the power to turn someone’s world upside down. It terrifies me. I just don’t want to let you down.”
