I wasn’t sure what had gotten into her, but it had been almost six weeks, and she still wasn’t ready to fess up. I wasn’t sure what to do, because she sure as hell didn’t look like she thawing anytime soon.
Chapter 13
Lily
“How’s the baby today, sweetie?” my mother’s soft voice enthusiastically asked me. I was driving with my Bluetooth on, feeling beyond overwhelmed after my doctor’s visit.
“The baby is great, Mom! Ah!” I drawled, almost screaming with this endless joy that was running through me. “The doctor said everything’s fine, and whenever I feel the cramps about to start again, I should take a breather and rest. He still doesn’t recommended that I work full-time since I’m mostly on my feet all day, so he suggests that I should do a few hours in the morning and do another shift in the afternoon. And, since we already have Sara—the new addition to our humble business—I think this could all work out if I do decide to do that.” I was a jumbled mess, too excited for words.
My mother was jovially laughing on the other end, just as animated as I was. “Sara. Right, of course. I’m sure it’ll work out fine so long as you let Masie know what needs to be done. So, how is Drake taking all of this? I’m sure he’s over the moon.”
I was sure he was.
“I think everyone’s waiting for this baby as much as we are. It truly is a miracle that I conceived this quickly again. I’m so grateful. You have no idea.” Drake was, too, in the very beginning, but he and I hadn’t really been discussing much of anything. Not if I could help it.
My mother and Drake's parents had no idea what was going on in our marriage. For six weeks, we had managed to avoid them as a couple. We had visited them, dined and socialized, but only seeing them separately. The pain that was throbbing inside me had evolved into something larger, something much more profound that was threatening to hold me down. It was also something that dominated my thoughts whenever they weren’t preoccupied with anything baby or work-related.
Jealousy was eating me alive. I was too furious to even dare speak to him. Not to mention the fact that I was too much of a coward to even ask him the very question that had been nagging me since the night he had lied to me. We hadn’t been the same since.
Although I had racked my brain for answers as to how and why he would be unfaithful to me, it always came to the answer that maybe he and I hadn't been together for long before committing to marriage.
A side of me wanted to follow him, most particularly on Wednesdays when he would come home right before or after midnight, and always belligerent, making me all the more suspicious that he was doing something behind my back. I had done the normal investigation most women did in those unfortunate circumstances. I had tried sniffing his soiled clothes for traces of perfume or any tinge of lipstick, etc., but nothing had surfaced. I had checked his call logs, and nothing suspicious had surfaced there, either. His text messaging inbox remained empty, as if he instantly deleted whatever came through, which was normal for some that I knew; as a result, it hadn’t raised a mighty red flag yet.
For days, I had wept, wondering what the hell was going on with him. I couldn’t fathom how often I had been tempted to go to his office and simply figure this out. Each and every time, there was always something stopping me from doing so. Therefore, the invisible block between us kept growing, piling as the time went on, making us grow farther apart.
The tension was so palpable I would sometimes wonder who would break first. I had hoped he would continue trying to talk to me, but in the end, he had merely become indifferent. Then, when he did come home, I become a chicken-shit. I was afraid to confront him because, if he happened to say yes, that he was having an affair, I would be faced with questions and important decisions that I wasn’t capable of acting on just yet.
It wasn’t because I didn’t want to talk to him, not per se. I thought it was more of the fact that I had a hard time expressing myself. I also had an immense fear that I would appear weak in his eyes because of my insecurities. Therefore, the wall kept growing between us, setting us apart to a point that I couldn’t even celebrate anything with him, most especially the improvements with the baby, like when the bump started appearing. Though it was still small and barely noticeable, I was so ecstatic my eyes welled with tears. Instead of sharing the amazing piece of news with him, I celebrated it all by myself.
It was sad; however, my mind couldn’t forget that he was indeed at fault. He should be the one trying to breach the momentary separation between. Each day, I would anticipate it, that he would try again, but his lack of effort would only anger me more. In the very beginning, he was too eager to be with me. Around that time, though, I wasn’t prepared. I still wasn’t. Regardless, I was ready for him to reach out just a little at least.