My muscles go limp while I lie with my head in her lap and sob. I think about how she called Liam “dada” and how much it made a part of me happy. Now, the sound of her saying it makes me break. I drown in the sea of pain as each sound of my own cries takes me under.
She plays with my hair as I lose it in the back seat of my car.
Breathe and you’ll figure this out. You’re stronger than this.
I look at Aarabelle, and brush the side of her face. “So much has changed, baby girl. So much. Mommy’s going to be a mess, but I’ll do everything I can to protect you from it all. I love you so much,” I tell her then close the door.
When I left the house, Aaron was sitting on the deck. He asked if we could talk more tonight and try to find some kind of middle ground. I don’t even have a clue as to what kind of agreement we can come to, but I at least have to try. If I want any shot in hell with Liam, I need to know where things stand at home first.
There are so many issues flying through my mind: where he’ll sleep, clothing, do I file for divorce, what about all the money from him being declared dead? I sit in the driver’s seat and put the music on. I don’t want to think about any of this. I want to take a moment.
I pay no mind to where I’m going, because I’m singing as loud as I can with tears streaming down my face. Life is cruel. Love is a joke. And not even death is final.
I’m not ready to head home. I know I should because he’s waiting for her. He’s waiting for me. I’m being uncaring, but all I want to do is head to Liam and beg him to take me into his arms. Looking back in the rearview mirror, Aarabelle stares out the window, and I wish things could be different, but I’m grateful she’ll never remember all of this mess. I turn into my driveway and sit. The turmoil boiling through my veins makes it impossible to move. There’s not only the fear of him with Aarabelle, but also me too. I’m a match next to a canteen of gasoline, ready to ignite at any moment. We haven’t dealt with anything and I reluctantly agreed to let it rest for a few days.
A few days that I can’t go to Liam.
Time to get your shit together.
Aarabelle smiles when I get her from her car seat. I walk slowly with her to the deck where Aaron is standing with his back to me.
He turns slowly and casts his eyes on Aarabelle for the first time. I hold her close as she looks around. Aaron takes a slow step forward and smiles. “She’s beautiful.”
Words fail me, so I nod.
“She looks just like you, Lee.” Aaron’s eyes swim with love as he stares at my—our—daughter.
“I always thought she looked like you,” I say looking at her while she smiles at me.
“Can I?” he asks, his arms extended.
I shouldn’t pull her back, but I do. I can’t stop the fear that festers. He’s her father, he wanted her, and he will love her, I know all of this. But she’s only ever been mine. It makes me harsh and selfish, but I don’t really care. She’s my daughter. I’ve been through it all with her. Well, me and Liam. He’s practically been a parent to her, and I feel as if I’m betraying him. Which is insane.
“Lee,” my name rolls off his tongue.
Tears pool and one lone bead of moisture escapes. It slowly descends down my face before landing on my lip. “I j-just . . .” I stutter. My hands grip Aarabelle as she squirms to get free. Aaron moves closer, keeping his eyes trained on her as if he can’t look away.
This was the culmination of years of heartbreak. Years of both of us feeling inadequate and alone together. She’s the beauty in all the heartache. She’s the prize from all the desperation we endured. And she’s his. Not Liam’s.
No matter where Aaron and I land, Aarabelle is the glue that will hold our lives together. Forever we will be tied to each other. I slowly extend her, and his arms meet me halfway. Our hands touch as his eyes fill with tears.
“Hi, Aarabelle,” he says adoringly to Aara. The way he looks at her, like she’s the air he breathes, makes my chest tighten.
The arms I’d wished would wrap around her, protect her, love her are now holding her. She looks at Aaron with her signature smile. My body goes stiff as it all settles around us.
Aaron somehow lived and is home.
He’s holding our baby.
“God, she couldn’t be any more perfect,” he laughs and looks at me.
I sniff and try to rein myself in. “Yeah, she really is perfect.”
“You look just like your mommy.” He bounces her and wipes his eyes. “I dreamt of you. I wondered if you were okay,” Aaron talks to Aarabelle, and I have to take a few steps back.
Father and daughter are united.
“What’s her birthday?” he asks.
“August ninth.” She looks at me, and I walk over to them. I place my hand on her back while she touches his face.
Aaron just stares at her. Aarabelle squirms again and begins to fuss.
“She’s almost one. She just wants to move around,” I explain, reaching for her. “Do you want to go for a walk? She loves the beach.” I offer the olive branch to him. The confliction on how to handle this entire thing is too great to make things any harder.
His eyes soften, and he nods. “That would be great.”