"Alex, I've done everything you've wanted. But now it seems like you're asking me to change everything single thing about me: my desire for sex, my daily activities, and even what type of car I should drive. What exactly do you want from me?"
She looked at me with pain in her eyes, causing my stomach to twist in anguish. "Nothing," she said, sounding defeated.
"What do you mean, nothing?" The anger had left me, and what remained was a tired and defeated version of myself.
"It's not what I want, Damian. It's what you want."
"I … I want things to be the way they were," I blurted out.
"That's not possible. I wish it were, but it's not."
"I don't know what to say." I let out a heavy sigh.
She was right. Nothing would ever be the way it once had been. I wished I could understand what she was going through, what she was feeling, what she felt about me. But since her operation, she had grown more distant. She flinched when I touched her now. She rarely wanted to have sex. And she rarely smiled.
"Just go then." She turned her back on me and I felt a sharp pain twist inside my chest.
"Maybe we need some time apart?" I whispered. I hadn't meant it, but the words had just come out.
There was a pause before she responded. "That's a good idea," she agreed flatly.
"I … " I wanted to say something that would somehow delete this entire conversation from our memory, but there was nothing to say.
Alexis didn't want me to be a part of her life right now and she'd made that clear tonight. I knew Alexis was not only physically struggling because of the cancer, but she was emotionally struggling because of it. I'd tried to be there for her, to do all I could to make her feel better, but she had grown distant. She didn't want to talk about it, so she had shut me out from her emotions.
Maybe it's time to give her the distance she seems to want and need.
I walked to the front door and opened it. I turned to take one last look at her before walking out the door.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Alexis
"Maybe we need some time apart?"
His words shattered my heart, and I fought back the tears. He had said all I needed to know. Maybe he's not strong enough to wait for me to get emotionally better?
As I heard him walk out the door, I felt as if a part of me were leaving with him-the happy version of me that I'd kept dormant for so long.
I stood there in silence as I felt a heaviness weigh down on my heart.
This is your own fault! a voice inside me screamed.
That was true. I knew it was me.
Since my operation, I had lashed out against Damian time after time in the worst way possible: I'd shut him out.
I had become cold and distant, and despite his repeated attempts to be there for me, I had always focused and harped on the things he was doing wrong. For the last two months, he had continued to try to to chip away at the thick walls I'd put up between us. But I was in a dark place, and instead of allowing him to pull me out of it, the bitterness that festered inside wanted to drag him down with me. This type of lashing out wasn't something he-or anyone for that matter-would be able to withstand forever.
And tonight, it seemed as if he had finally reached his breaking point. I'd seen the hurt and rejection in his eyes when I screamed at him, when I voiced out the one thing I knew he was most nervous about: whether he was prepared to be a father. At that moment, I hadn't cared about his feelings. I'd wanted to hurt him. I'd wanted to make him angry. I'd wanted him to scream at me and maybe even snap at me. Because maybe then, when the pain inside me was too unbearable to hold in, I'd finally break down in front of him and he'd finally be able to pick up the pieces and pull me out of the darkness.
But instead of screaming at me or hitting me, Damian had done something far worse. He had walked out on me and our baby.
***
Grey, heavy clouds covered the sky, and the wind blew the rain in through the open bay window next to my bed, where I had been lying wide awake since 5:30 a.m. The wet, cold air felt good against my skin, waking me from the numbing sadness I felt inside.
It'd been three days since Damian and I had our fight, and I hadn't spoken to him since. He hadn't stopped in to check on me and he hadn't texted or called me. I wanted to call him, to see how he was doing and to hear his voice again. But I hadn't; my pride and bitterness kept me from reaching out, from apologizing to him.
At 7:00 a.m., my radio alarm came on. The familiar melancholy song Both Sides Now by Joni Mitchell filled the room. Tears streamed down my cheeks as the lyrics hit home.
"I really don't know love at all either, Joni," I sobbed out.
I thought about the last few months and everything Damian and I had gone through. I couldn't believe how it had all ended so easily over a heated argument.
Is it really over? That thought was the one thing I couldn't get out of my mind. If it is over, can I get through this by myself?
For the sake of my baby, I tried to convince myself of one thing: I couldn't depend on anyone in my life, not even Damian. I had to be able to take care of everything myself. I wasn't sure I could deal with any more disappointment. I couldn't wait for Damian to come around, and I couldn't let myself fall deeper down into the darkness. I had to keep fighting for Isabella.
Just then my phone rang.
Damian?
I quickly reached for it on my bedside table. My body slumped in disappointment when I saw that it wasn't him. It was Deb, my best friend.
"Hi, Deb." My voice was dry, and I realized how thirsty I was. You need to take better care of your baby, I screamed at my absentmindedness.
"Hey, sweetie. How are you? I just got off my flight."
"I'm fine. How was London?"
"It was awful. I was basically locked up in a conference room with a dozen other junior associates going through twenty years' worth of emails for this client. If I didn't have jet lag, I wouldn't believe you if you told me I went to London. This is the part of being a lawyer that I hate."
"That sounds terrible, Deb."
"Enough about me. How are you? Any updates since we talked briefly the other day?"
I fought back a wave of tears and cleared my throat. "No."
"What?" Deb shrieked incredulously. "He hasn't called?"
Her question was a sharp knife to my heart.
"No, he hasn't." I tried to keep my voice even.
"What the fuck is wrong with him? He sounds like a total ass, Alexis. Maybe it's a good thing that things ended sooner than later."
Maybe Deb's right. It's better now than later. I can at least shield Izzy from the pain of an unreliable father.
"Alexis? You still there?"
"Yeah … "
There was a silence on the other end, and I could tell she wanted to ask me something.
"Do you want it to end, Alexis?"
Her question caught me by surprise. Up until now, I hadn't thought about the situation from the angle of what I wanted. To me, it was more a question of whether or not it had indeed ended, and what I wanted had no room in that equation.
"No, not at all," I admitted as hot tears welled up in my eyes.
"Then why don't you talk some sense into him?"
"But he hasn't called or stopped by since our fight."
"Have you tried to call him?"
"No, but I want him to make the first move."
"Why?"
I thought about it for a moment. "Because I want to know he's ready to commit to me and the baby." I quickly rubbed the tears from my eyes, refusing to let them fall down my cheeks. "Child or no child, I can't force him to do something that he doesn't want to do or isn't even capable of doing. He's been a bachelor through and through, and he's made it clear from what he wants from me all the time that he's not ready to settle down … "
"Honey, what are you most worried about here?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, before the fight happened, you told me that Damian had been doing a lot for you and that he was really changing. And the day after you guys had the fight, you told me that it was you who started the fight. I know it would be great if he would get his head out of the sand and come bang your door down with apologies. But the reality is, he's not doing that right now. So if you really believe in this relationship and you really think that the fight was over something that can be fixed, then call him. What are you worried so much about that's stopping you from being the one to reach out first?"
"Deb, I'm worried that he doesn't want to be a father because he's not ready for it."
"But are you ready for it?"
"No. I'm freaking out," I admitted.
"But do you want to be a mother despite that?"
"Yes, I do."
"Then maybe Damian's feeling the same way."