CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Aidan sat in the pitch black living room for hours after Emma left. He would reach for his phone to call her and then stop himself. He would start to get up to go after her and then think himself a fool.
No, he wasn’t what she needed. He could never live up to her expectations of what a husband and father should be. They were both better off. He had wanted a way out for the past week, and he had found it.
But instead of feeling relief, he felt misery.
Freedom from the choking and suffocating emotions hadn’t come with Emma’s departure. Instead, they felt tighter around him than ever before. Defeated, he rose off the couch to grab a beer. His foot accidentally kicked the DVD case across the room. He left it laying there as he headed into the kitchen.
After snatching the six pack out of the fridge, he started back into the living room. His eye caught the plastic DVD case, and he stopped to pick it up. Tossing it on the table, he turned on the TV and started flipping through the channels.
It was after his third beer that the curiosity finally got to him. He took the DVD out and put it in the machine. The sound of the latest basketball game faded, and it was replaced by a thump-thumping echoing through the room.
His son’s heartbeat.
Frozen, Aidan stared at the grainy image on the television screen. The last time he had seen the baby it barely resembled anything. It was a strange tadpole looking thing. Now its features were prominent—its arms and legs flailed while its tiny mouth fluttered open and shut.
If he had been paralyzed by the emotions when he felt the baby move, they were nothing compared with actually seeing his son. A part of him was growing strong and healthy inside Emma. A child that he had promised his mother he would have.
But his son was gone. And so was Emma. He had thrown happiness away with both hands. Sinking down on the couch, he allowed the sobs to roll through him. The last time he had cried had been when he had lost his mother. Now he was experiencing another soul crushing loss.
With trembling fingers, he reached for his phone. After dialing the familiar number, he brought the phone to his ear. “Please answer, please answer,” he begged.
“Hello?”
“Pop, it’s me. I’ve f*cked up, and I need your help.”