But then I said I’d call him and shop for a wedding dress with him and stay in touch, and I didn’t. His concern is warranted.
Lowell: The guest room has clean sheets and is ready for you. Luc is making his famous ham and goat cheese baguette with a side of Parisian soup. AKA French onion soup.
Me: Mmm. He doesn’t have to, but I’m not complaining. I’m starving now.
Lowell: You better eat something. It’s a long flight to Paris.
Me: I will. Mostly I plan to sleep.
And cry.
On the trip here, I folded my arms on my tray, buried my face, and silently wept for most of the flight. The lady beside me thought I wasn’t feeling well and didn’t like flying. I don’t mind flying. I sat in first class. What’s not to like? Kensie insisted on booking me a first-class ticket. I paid her back through Venmo before I ditched my phone at the mansion. I can’t keep guilt from eating at me, though.
This money is all Sebastian’s. I’m no longer his girlfriend or fiancée. I have a private bank account he opened for me a year ago in case anything should happen to him, or we get separated. He wanted me to be financially ready for anything. The account has five million dollars in it. I never touched it, never had to. It’s in my name alone. I have sole access to it, and now I’m going to use it to move to Paris and support the baby.
Lowell will probably tell me to think of the money as child support. Sebastian would want the best for his son or daughter, and he’d want the child to be safe. My going to Paris is a risk, but the baby isn’t here yet or even close. I have time to find a place with top security and maybe hire protection, although I wouldn’t know where to begin. Sebastian always handled that.
Every time I think about him, my heart shudders and weeps as if it’s been sliced in half with a burning knife.
I’ll never love anyone like I love Sebastian. No one could compare, so I won’t bother trying. I’ll be a single mom—a great one. I’ll give this baby all the love and attention I never received. I’ll celebrate this baby’s uniqueness and choices in life and never force my ideals or wishes onto him or her. It will be his or her choice about what to study and what degree to get, how to dress, wear their hair, who to have as friends…
He or she will know so much love. Lowell will be a great influence and help. He may even have a baby of his own and our kids can grow up together. Luc and he are interested in adopting a child one day.
This is a smart choice for me—us. I rub my belly. “You take care in there.”
Melted cheese and tomato sauce tickle my nose. I glance up to see a family on the chairs nearby eating single slices of pizza. I passed the pizza-to-go store on the way here. My stomach rumbles and my mouth waters.
Me: I’ll text you when I’m back on the plane. Going to get some pizza.
Lowell: I have your itinerary. Luc and I can’t wait to see you!
This feels right. In fact, for all I’ve been through over the last year, it might be the least stressful choice I’ve made—leaving Sebastian and raising our child alone aside. He was leaving me anyway.
I push him and what happened to the far recesses of my mind. If I think about him, I’ll start crying again. I have a baby to think about. Positive thoughts only. Fighting my mind will be an uphill battle. I can’t forget him as easily as he did me. Even if I could, I wouldn’t. I learned a lot about myself and the world while I was with him. A person can always choose the light in a dark situation, even if that means choosing it repeatedly. One day, it will be easier.
I stand and clutch the bar to my carry-on. The line to the pizza store curls to the side like a snake. My hunger pangs insist I wait.
The line moves fast. I order my cheese slice and race back to my gate. People are boarding. Panic grips me, and I force myself to calm down. I have an assigned seat. No one can take it from me.Relax.
I pull up my first-class ticket on my phone and join the line. The attendant scans my code, and with a ding, I’m permitted to pass. This plane has seats that recline into beds. I take my private cubby by the window and set my carry-on at the front by my feet. The Ted Baker travel bag is made of soft fabric with a huge sunflower on the front. Sebastian said it reminded him of me and got it as a surprise when we left the Germany.
Tears spring to my eyes. I wipe them away, shush myself, and get out my pizza. They served food on the flight here, but I wasn’t hungry. They’ll serve it on the connecting flight, too. I had to choose a meal and dessert when I bought the ticket. I can’t remember what I picked, though, and all I want is this pizza.
A flight attendant with blond curls stops by my seat. “Champagne?” She holds a tray with flutes of bubbly. If I weren’t pregnant, I’d sayyes.
“No. Thank you.”
“Can I get you something else? Water? Soda? Juice? Coffee? We also have other alcoholic beverages listed on your menu.” She points to the small paper on the side table near a bottled water.
“I would love some orange juice.” I’ve been craving it for a week now. I could be deficient in vitamin C. I should get some prenatal supplements when I’m in Paris. I’ll need to find yet another OBGYN, who speaks fluent English, but I’m used to that drill.
Tension builds in my shoulders over all that needs to be done. I breathe in and out and relax my muscles. Stress isn’t good for the baby.
The door to the plane closes as I finish my pizza. Dang. I inhaled it. I sip my orange juice, adjust the pillow that had been left on the shelf above my seat and get comfortable. The flat screen has an abundance of movies, TV shows, and music choices. I love to read on my Kindle on my phone, but since I don’t have it, I settle on a movie. Nothing sad or romantic, which limits my choices considerably. Gah. I cry so easily as it is.
The attendant gives me a choice of cookies, crackers, pretzels, granola, and some other things. I take the Biscotti cookies. Again, guilt stabs at me. If it weren’t for the account Sebastian set up for me, I wouldn’t be on this plane at all, let alone in first class.
Once I’m settled in Paris, I’ll get a job. If I can finish my degree, that will help financially. At some point, I want to depend on myself and not Sebastian’s money.
