“No.” I begin to pull out all the items I need to change his diaper. I’ve pined away for days now about the right way to approach everyone, not only about the baby, about everything. Why I really left. What took me so long to come back. All of it. Now, here I sit, changing my son’s diaper, and my speech is gone, as if it’s floating down the Hudson River. I sigh and fold up the dirty diaper, stuffing it back inside the bag along with everything else.
“May I hold him?” I pause mid-stride from setting him on my lap.
“Of course.” I smile as Alina holds out her arms and slips her hands under his armpits, taking him from me. Silence falls all around us, the only noise coming from Diesel’s baby gibberish.
I swallow and sit further back on the couch, my hands folded on my lap.
“Please listen to everything I have to say before you ask me questions,” I release blatantly, then swipe a wayward tear from my face.
“All right,” they both say simultaneously. Roan moves to sit next to Deidre. I tell myself this has to be done. It’s the only way I can move forward.
“I had a nervous breakdown at the hospital. I wanted to die when I finally woke up. It all hit me at once. Everything that he—” I glance up to Roan. God, I don’t want to hurt him or bring back the memories of that horrid night to either one of them. “I’m sorry,” I say, looking him dead set in his eyes. He shows no pain, only remorse, maybe guilt. I don’t know.
“Deidre. It’s me who should apologize to you. I’m sorry for the things he did.” Roan says, the good man he is, the guilt, regret, and the pain now clearly visible across his handsome features.
“I don’t blame you. The man to blame is dead. He can’t hurt us anymore.” My tone is light. It’s true. At first I didn’t believe it. Now I know it’s true. He can never harm anyone again.
“No, he can’t,” Alina chimes in. The two of them look at one another. More tears seem to swell up, only they’re happy tears. The way Roan looks at Alina like his next breath depends on her happiness is enough to let those tears go. I’m so damn happy for the both of them.
Alina and I have all the time in the world for her to catch me up on the past year. I can’t wait to hear everything. Right now, though, I need to get this all out. I’m so close to the final stretch of ending my therapy, starting with these two and crossing the finish line with Aidan.
“My parents told me he was dead. At the time, I couldn’t believe it. I kept waiting for him to come and get me. To make his promise of killing me come true. I lost my mind over that fear.” My lips start to tremble. I dig deep, close my eyes, and continue.
“I woke up three weeks later in Maryland at a facility for women. A retreat I was referred to by the doctor at the hospital. I was disoriented, had no idea where I was or what was happening. Once I calmed down, well, that’s when I found out I was pregnant. I panicked all over again. Worried to death about the drugs I had been given would do my baby harm.”
The two of them look down to Diesel. “He’s fine. Perfect, really,” I say with a shine in my eyes when I take him in.
“I needed the time. Needed to be healthy. To deal with it all before I came back. I’m sorry if I caused you worry. I really am.” Roan stands, walks over, and takes the seat next to me. He reaches over, taking my stress-relieved hands into his.
“Neither one of us are ever going to judge you. We all handle things differently. The shit you went through, I can’t even begin to imagine. What I do know is what it feels like to be out of control, scared for yourself and the people you love.” Hearing those words lifts the heavy feeling off my shoulders. I know this is only the beginning of many conversations I need to have. The easiest one actually.
“Thank you,” I say truthfully.
“What’s his name?” Roan asks.
“Diesel.”
“I love it. That’s a badass name for a badass little dude,” he says with glee.
“I also need a really good pediatrician for him. The two of you wouldn’t happen to know of anyone, would you?”
“There she is. Her smartass mouth is back. Damn, I missed you.” Roan pulls me into his arms for a hug. The three of us chat for another hour or so. Everything seems to be back to normal. I tell them all about the doctor who treated me. All about the delivery, which was a bitch. Delivering a nine-pound baby naturally feels like you’re being ripped in two. I promised myself then and there I would never have another one. Not unless some promise from god would drop down on me, telling me there is no way I will have a baby that size again. I’m kidding, really. I would have ten more if they all turned out to be exactly like Diesel.