The lies we tell, Ch 2 and 3

I woke up the following day. I yawned and stretched and vaguely began recalling the events of the night before. The events came like flashes. Jeremy was kissing me, clinging to me. The burning risotto. Divorce. With the realization that it wasn’t just a bad dream and it was, in fact, the actual events of my night; I again cried. I had cried myself to sleep, and now I was awake. Within minutes I heard my mother in my room.

“Oh darling, don’t cry. We will call Jeremy today and see if he cooled down. I’m sure he just had a rough day at the office,” my mother crooned as she sat on the bed and played with my hair. Though I had little hope, her words did offer some solace. My mother was a strong woman, and she raised me without my father in my life. She always told me I was better off without him. So, I grew up not knowing my father or if I even had one. I was convinced my mother had found me on the doorstep and delighted in the fact I was hers. She had made an elaborate breakfast, complete with pancakes and mimosas. My stomach lurched. I hadn’t even told my mom yet.

“I thought these would be appropriate today, sweetie,” she said, pouring me a glass of sparkling wine with a hint of orange juice. I sighed, “Mom, I’m pregnant.” I started with no indication of sarcasm or humor. My mother laughed and handed me the flute, and only when she saw my face did she realize I was serious. She took the glass in her hand and chugged it, opting to start, then drank out of the bottle. When she had finished off the bottle, she sat down. Her gray hair hung in a braid down her back, and her wrinkled face suddenly curved into a smile.

“I’m going to be a grandmother,” she exclaimed. I started to cry when she became so excited. My mother jumped up and held me again. I called again.

“Shhh, shhh. Honey, it’s okay. With or without Jeremy, you can do this. And you won’t be alone like me, honey. I have got you. I am here for you.” She whispered those reassuring words over and over into my hair as she ran her hands through my hair. I was able to calm down when I realized the television was on, and I heard a name I recognized. I quickly brushed my mother off of me and ran to the couch. My jaw dropped when I realized who was on the screen.

Chapter 3

My mother rushed in to sit next to me. She could make sure I didn’t pass out and hurt myself. The screen had a picture of my husband with the subtitle “Murder to CFO?” underneath. His name was printed bright at the top of the screen. The woman anchor was prattling on about his life and what had happened. I was only able to put bits and pieces together.

“He was well known and built from the ground up, Chief Financial Officer. Born in Anderson, Indiana, he became a real-life Great Gatsby. The shocking revelation that will leave you speechless tonight at 7 pm.” The anchorwoman was professional and had no hint of remorse about what she was saying as if everything she said wasn’t cutting me to the bone...kicking me in the stomach. I rested my hand on my stomach and looked down. What is going on...I asked myself. I vaguely remembered I hadn’t read the letter from Jeremy. I decided now was the best time. My mom was muttering about baby names, and I couldn’t be sure. She was incompletely unconcerned with the television screen. She seemed happy, bringing me breath I didn’t know I needed.

I slowly made my way back to my room. It was on the second floor, and I was not in a hurry to read this letter. Perhaps he would address why he was on the news. Maybe he would explain why he didn’t want this baby. I couldn’t be sure. I thought I knew who my husband was, yet here I was, wearing a ring connecting me to a stranger. As I continued my climb, I remembered that fateful year that brought me to him.

I was from California, the tan skin and light hair, though my eyes and freckles gave me away as a classic girl next door. I was shy but was dragged around by my more outgoing friends. We went to this beach party for the fourth of July, in the middle of my senior year. I was studying to complete my bachelor's in psychology. My friends were all learning something that they never told me about. They were all looking to get their MRS degrees. I hadn’t talked to many guys, let alone date a guy. However, my friends were adamant that I would meet someone in college. It's been three years, and I still have not found anyone that would be long-term.

Regardless, I loved following them around and seeing the adventures they ended up in. I am content to be on the sidelines and ride the wave of their somewhat questionable choices. We walked up to the senior bonfire when I made eye contact with him. It was an accident, and I knew who it was. He was in a few of my classes, and I loved to watch him walk around. He had a brisk, manly walk. He carried masculine energy as if radiated it and had unlimited access to that testosterone. We made eye contact, and he smiled. He raised the bottle to his lips, and I followed his hand as he lifted it. The girl talking to him was too interested in whatever she spoke about to notice he stopped listening. He gave the bottle to his closest guy friend and started to walk towards me, leaving the girl alone to talk to herself; she hardly seemed to notice. My friends immediately began to swoon as this Adonis of a man walked to us. He never took his eyes off me.

As he walked up, he lifted my hand to his lips. They lingered on the top of my hand, and I immediately felt butterflies in my stomach. Luckily for me, my friends skipped away and gave me a thumbs-up. My eyes bulged out of my head; please don’t leave me alone. He didn’t say anything; he just led me to the area where all these bodies were dancing and sweating. I wanted to pull away, but the moment I looked up and saw a shooting star, I knew I had to take chances and let the fates take me where they may.

I was hit with all those memories from before, and now I was pregnant with his baby. Fate was a cruel, unemotional being. I finally reached my bedroom and fished the letter from one of the many suitcases that summed up my life. I held the note. Blank on the front. Once I opened this letter, I couldn't unknow what it said. I sat down on the edge of my bed and ripped open the letter.

“My dearest Rose,

I can’t begin to pretend I understand what this letter and the night feel to you. I can only imagine the shock and, of course, pain. I am sorry for the events leading to this moment. More importantly, I am sorry for what is going to happen next. I can’t tell you anything, and that is to protect you. I need you to know I am a changed man because of you. Everything before you is someone I don’t recognize, and now it has caught up to me. I hope you will understand that our love was genuine. That you meant so much to me, and for that, I will always be grateful.

Te amo,

Jeremy”

The letter was vague, to the point that nothing made any sense still. I sat there, holding the letter and holding my belly. I couldn’t bear the thought that Jeremy had been hiding something. Yet, I knew that we all had something to hide.

My mother came up the stairs after me shortly after I finished the letter. She looked at me, sitting on the edge of my bed in my childhood bedroom. It must have been a curious site to see her little girl with the child in her parent's home. At the moment, I had nothing to my name, and now I was the wife of someone who had a huge secret that was going to be released to the public. My mother glanced a little longer at me before she said, “Is the baby his?”