The bedroom doorclicks shut behind my mother, and I listen to Autumn’s cheerful chatter as it fades with her footsteps down the hall. I sit motionless on the bed, my arm still tingling where my daughter leaned against me. I wait until I hear the front door open and then close again before I can relax. No, relax is the wrong word. I can just be content that if we end up having a screaming match, Autumn won’t hear it.
I can’t believe after all this time, the decision of whether or not to tell Joshua about Autumn was taken from me this way. It’s one thing I can hate Sarah for. This would never have happened if that bitch had kept her hands to herself.
Now that Autumn and my mom have left the apartment, the silence between Joshua and me feels anything but comfortable. It feels almost claustrophobic now, pressing into the walls, the floor, the space between Joshua and me, squeezing in on us and destroying the easy peace that had fallen between us before Autumn came in.
He hasn’t said anything yet and I don’t know what to say. I feel like I should apologize, but at the same time, that doesn’tfeel like enough. And I want to know what he’s thinking more than anything.
He got up and walked over to the window once we were alone, and he’s still there with his back to me. He looked pissed off when he walked over there and yeah, I get that. His back is tense, and I know he’s still pretty angry, but what I need to know is whether he is happy to have a child and he’s angry with me for not telling him about her sooner, or whether he’s angry because he has a child. Knowing that will help me know what to say to him. Or at least I hope it will, because I need something that can help me through this.
I keep my eyes turned down, watching myself as I play with the cuffs of my pajama top. I want to break the silence, but I’m unsure where to begin. Eventually, it’s him who breaks the silence and even though his choice of words gives very little away, I’m still glad he has broken the silence.
“You didn’t tell me,” Joshua says. Not a question, but a statement.
I look up. His voice isn’t angry, but there’s something sharp behind it. Maybe it’s pain. Maybe it’s disbelief. Maybe it’s a bit of both causing a weight to press against his ribs, the same as the one that is pressing against mine.
“I know,” I say softly. Another statement. I’m not ready to ask him how he feels about this, because I don’t think I’m ready for the answer.
“Why wouldn’t you have told me about her?” he says. And there it is. The sixty-four-million-dollar question. The one I have been both dreading and waiting for.
The words lands heavy between us. Joshua speaks softly, his voice isn’t dramatic or full of anger. It’s just full of pain and a raw honesty that makes it hurt more. I would have preferred him to yell at me. I think.
I sit up straighter, and he must hear the rustling of my movement, because he turns towards me once more and I can finally meet his eyes as I speak to him. This has been a long time coming, and now it’s out there, I’m going to answer his questions as honestly as I can, and if I can look into his eyes and he into mine, he will hopefully see the truth, and hopefully, also the turmoil that has rolled within me all these years. I don’t want to play the victim here, but I hope he sees how hard keeping Autumn a secret from him has been, that it was never an easy choice.
“Do you remember Vegas?” I ask.
He blinks, caught off guard by the question.
“Of course I do,” he says, and even in the midst of all of this, he smiles slightly at the memory.
I smile faintly back at him.
“And do you remember how we left it?”
He nods, slowly.
“You slipped out of my room and out of my life after that one night.”
“Yes. I left and I didn’t leave my number. I didn’t have yours either,” I say gently. “We were both in it for the moment with no expectations. It was that one amazing night and attempting to keep in touch would have washed the magic away.”
He nods again, slower this time, like it’s only just occurring to him that at first at least, I had no way of telling him even if I wanted to.
“I didn’t even know your last name,” I continue.
Joshua’s expression softens just slightly, the creases in his brow relaxing. But the question still lingers there, in his eyes.
“I get that. But why not after that, once you knew who I was and you know, saw me every day.”
“I thought about it,” I say. “And it wasn’t an easy choice. I went back and forth so much I felt seasick half of the time. Ididn’t want you to think I had done it on purpose, like I wanted to trap you or whatever. Finally, I decided to tell you, but then I heard some things that made me think twice.”
He frowns.
“Like what?”
“Like how upset you seemed when you thought your ex-girlfriend was pregnant,” I say.
He closes his eyes briefly, understanding washing over his features.
“And how relieved you were when it turned out to be a false alarm. It made me think you didn’t want kids in your life.”
