Infinity(41)

I wait a couple of beats and then ask, “Do you want to tell me why?”

The room is silent for what feels like an eternity. “You made a choice for me, and by making that choice, Caroline, you made my recurring nightmare come true. I had to stand there and face the blackness that enters into my dreams while I was surrounded by a million-plus people watching me.” He says the last part so quietly that I can barely hear him.

Then, I realize what I’ve thought was his need to “be” is actually Colin extremely upset. Panic grips my heart, and I try to roll over to look in his eyes. His eyes are where I can read Colin’s truths. As if he knows what I’m doing, he prevents me from turning over, gripping me tighter while holding me in my same position. “I’m… I’m…sorry…” I stammer.

“I couldn’t get to you.” His hot breath all but burns my scalp. “There were fans pulling at me, and reporters yelling for a statement. I was surrounded by people blocking me from getting to you.” His hand on my stomach grips the material of my pajama top. “Why didn’t you tell me? Let me make the choice. Let me be a partner in this.” His angst-ridden voice is slicing me open and gutting my insides.

“I thought…” I start, but have to swallow the lump in my throat. “I thought I was making the best choice for us. I knew that I had some time before the baby arrived. I wanted you to have your victory moment. To enjoy the success that you’ve worked so hard for,” I plead with him to understand where I was coming from when I made the decision.

“Goddammit, Caroline!” he bellows making me cringe. “Do you think that moment will ever be happy for me? Do you think that I will ever look back on the victory parade and my address to the fans as positive? I couldn’t get to you.” He takes a deep breath, and then continues. “I finally yelled, ‘My wife is having our baby. Move the fuck out of my way.’ Do you think that that’s how I wanted to tell the world our joyous news?”

Oh, God! I feel so awful. I can picture in my mind my big, strong, tough husband losing his cool in front of the cameras, and I begin to cry. In my mind it was so perfect. I was letting Colin have it all.

“Then, they wouldn’t let me talk to you until I cooled down… There were so many people keeping me from you. I rode here in a fucking police car,” he finishes speaking and crawls out from behind me, leaving my back frigidly cold. “A fucking police car.”

I roll backwards, pulling the covers up around my chin, watching him pace back and forth in front of my hospital bed and run his hands through his hair.

He’s shirtless and his jeans slip to his hips, revealing the top of his perfect V. His boots clomp, clomp, clomp, as he paces. And in this state, I can’t appreciate the beauty of his body. He obviously has more to say. I’m just not sure that I want to hear what it is.

He opens his mouth and closes it again. Just when I’m to the point that I want to beg him to forgive me and reassure him that I’ll make this better, he stops pacing, and places both of his arms on the bottom of my hospital bed, bracing the upper part of his body. He looks menacing. This is the “I’m furious” football expression.

“You know what’s the worst? The absolute fucking worst part.”

I hang on every word, waiting to find out what could possibly be the worst thing I’ve done in this whole mess because for the life of me, I can’t figure out what it is.

“Brad is who was with you when you went into labor. Brad is who brought you to the hospital. Brad is who got you settled in, and helped you through your first hours of contractions. Brad is who held your hand. Brad. Did he wipe the sweat from your brow, Caroline?” He pauses and stands to his full height staring down at me as I lie in bed feeling minuscule and obsolete. I’m inwardly beating myself up for my choice.

“Last time that I checked, Brad is not our baby’s father. Brad didn’t pick you up crap food every night. Brad didn’t massage your swollen feet, or help you shave your legs. Brad certainly wasn’t there when we created our daughter. So fuck Brad. I earned the right to be a part of the day that my daughter entered this world. I earned every blessed second of it, but it was taken away from me.”

He turns away from me, and walks toward the bathroom. Before he enters, his shoulders tense as he says without turning around, “And I’ll never have the time back.”

He slams the door behind him.

Sobs consume my body. This is not what I thought the birth of our baby would be like. I thought it would be a fantastic day, filled with love and joy, and family and hope. I thought Colin and I would hold our child and marvel at whose eyes she has, and does she have a half-smile like her daddy’s? It never occurred to me that the birth of our baby would bring sorrow and angst to our family.