Page 54 of SEAL's Doorstep Baby
This is my hell, and I chose it myself.
Chapter twenty
ALLISON
On my drive back home, I don’t see anything around me despite my eyes being wide open. The streets blur past me but I don’t pay them any mind, focused as I am on getting back to my apartment. I keep all of my focus on the road, glancing at my rearview mirror right before I take the last turn to my house.
Home. I’m going back to my home and it’s the only one I really have.
I try to not think about it, but I can’t help the sea of hurt that follows when my mind can’t fight the barrages and I find myself thinking about the reason why I am only just coming back after all this time.
All I can see is Jacob—his face, the way he made it clear that I hadn’t been a real part of the family I thought we were, that I had only been fooling myself all along.
He didn’t say that exactly. A small part of my mind reminds me, holding budding hope that he could have meant something else despite his words, and he actually wants me with him, butthe rest of me can’t forget or dismiss the look on his face. Jacob had stared straight into my eyes with those blue orbs of his, hard and cold as blocks of ice, and he had broken my heart without even flinching.
It is difficult to admit the truth of the matter, even to myself, because it is not a pleasant truth or one I want to hear, but I’ll say it to myself regardless because he said it to me first.
There had been no hiding what he felt in that moment, and no need to pretend otherwise, since his disinterest was as plain as day.
Jacob has never been mine, and I can come to terms with that. Maddie could not be my daughter either, and it is perfectly okay to just be her godmother. I tell myself this for the hundredth time.
And the fact that Naomi could very well be my replacement still means nothing, I remind myself again, but the thought of being thrown to the curb at her appearance is almost too much to stomach. I feel almost physically ill as I think about it, but I don’t let any of that distract me from my driving. I just want to get all the way to my apartment and cry my eyes out in peace.
I loved Maddie like she was mine, and I loved her father like he was mine, too. It didn’t work out, so there will be no more pining.
If Jacob and Maddie would be better and happier without me, then I don’t want to force myself into a picture that has no space for me. But the thought of walking away from them—especially Maddie—makes my chest tighten in a way that feels wrong, almost unnatural.
I walk through my door, stepping into my apartment for the first time in a couple of weeks, and I am struck by a strange sense of bizarreness. The few hurried visits to retrieve stuff had left it fresh in my memory, but it still feels like something from a dream to be back here again.
The quiet is almost unnerving, and I am struck by the realization that I have always been paying attention to both sounds and silence from Maddie, especially when she was out of sight. But now, I don’t have to do that; I can just relax in the silence.
This isn’t so bad, I comfort myself. Here’s to late nights and pizza! It’s an empty comfort because I already miss the sounds I associate with Maddie. The constant laughter, giggles, and even the occasional scream she let out to amuse herself.
I shrug all of this off, drop my bag smack bang in the middle of the living room, and sprawl myself all over the couch moments later. I’m tired, but at the same time, sleep is the last thing on my mind. Instead, I just stare at the ceiling, trying to think about everything I need to do while battling the tears.
My best effort at remaining resolute against the tears fails and finally the dam bursts, sending streaks of hot tears down my cheeks. I let them stream out of my eyes and down the sides of my face to my ears where they tickle slightly, but that still doesn’t reduce the volume or intensity of the ones which follow.
I reach out for a box of tissues and snag one to get rid of the snot from my nose, but the feel of the paper against my skin intensifies the same bizarre feeling from earlier. Pulling it away from my nose and inspecting the box to see why it felt different, I looked it over, and I now realize the source of my misgivings.
It is a different brand from the ones Jacob liked, and now, somehow, I don’t even like this one I used to buy because it is not the same as what I am used to.
It takes more time than it should to realize that nothing is different or altered in my place, and the truth is that I have just become more familiar and happy in another apartment than I am in my own space. The scents, sounds, and everything that I now associate with home are missing, leaving me with a shell.
I pick up my phone, dial, and hold it to my ear as it rings, waiting for a response from my version of home— a place that has always felt like it would never change.
The click of the connected call is the best sound I have heard all day.
“Hello Mom.”
“Hey baby, how are you? Why do you sound like you are crying darling? What’s wrong?”
Her voice is thick with worry, and it fills me with guilt because I don’t want her worrying about me. I keep the worst of the details of anything remotely disturbing away from her. She doesn't know about Jeffrey or any of the other difficult stuff that had come with losing Emily, and as her barrage of questions has proven again, I did this for good reasons.
Mama can be neurotic when it comes to my well-being—almost driving me crazy—but she always means the best, and this time I need her.
“I’m okay and I’m doing good, I guess. And nothing is wrong, Mama. I’m not crying.”
“Well, you’re not crying now, but you sound like you were. I’m glad you’re okay. What about baby Maddie and her uncle?” This is typical of my mother, and I already know I have to cut her off before she continues asking about every single person she knows because of me.
