Ryle’s hands come together again and he begins to chew nervously on
his bottom lip. I sense he has more to say, but he’s doubting whether or
not he should say it.
“Go ahead and say whatever you’re thinking while I’m in the mood to
talk about it.”
He tilts his head back and looks up at the ceiling. Whatever it is, it’s
hard for him. I don’t know if it’s because the
question is hard to ask or
because he’s scared of the answer I might give him.
“What about us?” he whispers.
I lean my head back and sigh. I knew this question would come, but it’s
really difficult to give him an answer I don’t have. Divorce or
reconciliation are really the only two options we have, but neither is a
choice I want to make.
“I don’t
want to give you false hope, Ryle,” I say quietly. “If I had to
make a choice today . . . I’d probably choose divorce. But in all honesty, I
don’t know if I would be making that choice because I’m overloaded with
pregnancy hormones or because it’s what I really want. I don’t think it
would be fair to either of us if I made that decision before the birth of this
baby.”
He blows out a shaky breath and then brings a hand up to the back of
his neck, squeezing tightly. Then he stands up and faces me. “Thank you,”
he says. “For inviting me over. For the conversation. I’ve been wanting to
stop by since I
was here a couple of weeks ago, but I didn’t know how
you’d feel about it.”
“I don’t know how I would have felt about it, either,” I say with
complete honesty. I try to push myself
out of the rocking chair, but for
some reason it’s become a lot harder in the past week. Ryle walks over and
reaches for my hand to help me up.
I don’t know how I’m supposed to last until my due date when I can’t
even get out of a chair without grunting.
Once I’m standing, he doesn’t immediately release my hand. We’re just
a few inches apart, and I know if I look up at him I’ll feel things. I don’t
want to feel things for him.
He finds my other hand until he’s holding both of them down at my
sides. He threads his fingers through mine and I feel it all the way to my
heart. I press my forehead against his chest and close my eyes. His cheek
meets the top of my head
and we stand completely still, both of us too
scared to move. I’m scared to move because I might be too weak to stop
him from kissing me. He’s scared to move because he’s afraid if he does,
I’ll pull away.
For what feels like five full minutes, neither of us moves a muscle.
“Ryle,” I finally say. “Can you promise me something?”
I feel him nod.
“Until this baby comes, please don’t try to talk me into forgiving you.
And
please
don’t try to kiss me . . .” I pull away from his chest and look up
at him. “I want to tackle one huge thing at a time, and right now my only
priority is having this baby. I don’t want
to add any more stress or
confusion on top of everything that’s already happening.”
He squeezes both of my hands reassuringly. “One monumental life-
changing thing at a time. Got it.”
I smile, relieved that we’ve finally had this conversation. I know I didn’t
make a final decision about the two of us, but I still feel like I can breathe
easier now that we’re on the same page.
He releases my hands. “I’m late for my shift,” he says, tossing a thumb
over his shoulder. “I should get to work.”
I nod and see him out. It isn’t until after I’ve shut the door and am
alone in my apartment that I realize I have a smile on my face.
I’m still incredibly angry with him that we’re even in this predicament
to
begin with, so my smile is simply due to making a little headway.
Sometimes parents have to work through their differences and bring a
level of maturity into a situation in order to do what’s best for their child.
That’s exactly what we’re doing. Learning how to navigate our situation
before our child is brought into the fold.