I breathe a sigh of relief and look at him out of the corner of my fearful eye.
He swallows, once, twice…
“You got pregnant on purpose. And now you don’t seem to want her.”
It’s hard to hear … both parts. Chilling and true and ugly.
“I thought she’d be a boy.” My voice is so low it’s competing with the waves, but Caleb hears me.
“And if she were? Would you like being a mother then?”
I hate when he forces me to think. Would I? Or was this role something I was doomed to fail at, boy or girl?
“I don’t know.”
He lifts his head to look at me. I eye the scruff on his face, and I want to touch it.
“Do you want her?”
Don’t tell him the truth!
“I ... I don’t know what I want. I want you. I want to make you happy…”
“But, not Estella?”
His voice is catching edge. The edge that usually indicates I’m in big trouble. I try to work my way out of it.
“Of course I want her. I’m her mother…”
My voice lacks conviction. I used to be such an accomplished liar.
“What you did after that … was that planned out too?”
I watch his chest play the in/out game. Rapid angry breaths … he’s steeling himself for my answer.
I suck in all the air that the sky has to offer. I pull it until my lungs burn. I don’t want to let it go. I want to hold that air and hold the confession he’s forcing out of me. I don’t have to tell him the truth.
“Caleb...”
“God, Leah, just tell me the truth…”
He runs a hand through his hair, walks a couple paces to the left so that I can only see his back.
“I was upset … Courtney-“
He cuts me off. “Did you do it to make me come back?”
I swallow. Fuck. If I say no, he’ll keep asking me questions until he traps me.
“Yes.”
He swears and drops to his haunches, his fingertips pressed on his forehead like he’s trying to hold his thoughts in.
“I think I need time to think.”
“No, Caleb!” I shake my head from side to side. He shakes his up and down. We look like a couple of distraught bobble heads.
The whirlpool starts, panic sucking me down until I whimper, “Don’t leave me again. I can’t take care of her alone.” I drop my head.
“You won’t have to, Leah.”
I look up at him hopefully.
“I’ll take her with me. She’s my daughter; I’ll take care of her.”
Oh God. What have I done now?
He gets up, turns on the Cat’s engine and we are slicing back toward shore, the remnants of my sanity shredding.
The minute he ties us to the dock, I am off the boat and racing to my phone, which I left in his car. I want to get out of here. My fingers become boneless as I fumble with the screen, jabbing uselessly. I dial a taxi service and tell them my location. I am shivering despite the heat. My God, what was I thinking telling him that? I can barely breathe as I see him walk down the dock and toward where I am perched against the hood of his car. Even in lieu of our current situation, my heart stirs at the sight of him. I love him so much my heart aches. He won’t look at me. I don’t know what this means, but thinking is never a good thing. Thinking stirs up a dangerous maelstrom of emotion. My emotion almost drowned me once. I don’t want to go back there.
The gravel shifts beneath his feet as he walks to where I sit. My arms are wrapped around my waist as I try to press my sanity back into my torso. He stops a few feet away. He’s coming to check on me. He hates me at this moment, but he’s coming to check on me. “I called a cab,” I say. He nods and looks out at the water, which is just visible beyond the copse of trees where he parked his car.
“I’m going to stay here,” he says. “I’ll call you when I’m back so I can pick up Estella.”
My head snaps up. “Pick her up?’ Oh yeah, that.
“I’m going to take her to stay with me for a while at my condo.”
I breathe through my nose, grappling with my emotions, trying to rein back control of the situation.
“You can’t take her from me,” I say through clenched teeth.
“I’m not trying to. You don’t want her, Leah. I need some time to think, and it’s better if she stays with me.” He rubs his forehead while I calmly panic.
I want to scream — Don’t think! Don’t think!
“What about work? You can’t take care of her with your work schedule.”
I’m trying to buy time. I messed up, but I can fix this. I can be a good mother and a good wife…
“She’s more important than work. I’ll take some time off. I have a trip next week, after that, I’ll come get her.”
My thoughts drag. I can’t come up with excuses for why he can’t do this to me. I can use the baby as leverage — threaten him — but that would screw me in the long run. If he wants to take some time, maybe I should let him. Maybe, I need time too.
I nod.
He presses his lips together until they burn white. Neither of us says anything for the next twenty minutes. He waits with me until the dingy looking cab pulls up, spraying gravel at our ankles until it comes to a stop. I climb in, refusing to meet his eyes. Perhaps he is waiting for me to turn around and tell him that it was all a lie. I look straight ahead.