Do I really want to go there?
I fumble through my silverware drawer like a junkie until I find what I’m looking for. With a pounding heart, I race back to the bathroom and drown the blade in peroxide—pouring some on my hip for good measure.
Locking the bathroom door—just in case—I lean back in my empty bathtub, exhaling a grateful breath before I begin my escape.
Chapter 20
I wake early the next morning, surprised that I’m up before the boys. I’m even more surprised to see Eric sleeping next to me. I assumed he would have slept on the couch or not come home at all—though he’s never not come home. More surprisingly, he’s not at the lab. I’m actually a little annoyed. I’m not looking forward to round two so early in the day.
Sliding slowly out of bed so as not to wake him, I tiptoe to the kitchen and start the coffee. Hazelnut. Eric hates flavored coffee, and I hate that I constantly drink flavorless shit just to avoid hearing him talk about it every morning. I barely have time to finish inhaling the fresh steam swirling from my cup before Eric plods into the kitchen. Turning for the table, I audibly slurp my first sip as I sit, facing the deck door and trying to enjoy the sunrise before I hear his voice.
“Is this regular coffee?” He stands with the pot in his hand, spout suspended above his cup.
I shrug. “It’s not decaf, if that’s what you’re asking.”
His sigh is response enough. He pours a cup anyway, filling it only halfway, and the rest of the way with milk.
“Where’d you go last night?” I ask without removing my eyes from the view.
“Out.”
Shifting in my seat to face him, I find his back against the counter as he faces the far kitchen wall. His petulance is evident in his hunched shoulders as he tastes the coffee with a grimace.
I clear my throat, ignoring his brewing tantrum. “Are you working today?”
Eric shakes his head.
“Okay,” I draw out, “in that case, I’ve got a lot to do this morning so you’re on kid duty.”
He huffs into his coffee.
“What’s that?” I ask as I walk to pour my second cup.
Eric blindly sets his mug on the counter behind him and crosses his arms in front of his bare torso. “You’re going to run out as soon as we have a free day to spend together as a family.”
I don’t even try to stop the laugh that flees my throat. “You’re kidding, right? Actually I’d rather not drag the boys around with me as I meet with Oliver’s new school and figure out how to get us enrolled in learning sign language as soon as possible. But if you’d rather have the day to yourself, I can bring them along.” I look at him in time to see his eyebrows twitch. “And as far as your assertion that we’re a family? Come on, Eric, even you’re not delusional enough to believe that.”
Eric pushes off the counter and blocks my exit to the bedroom. “What is that supposed to mean?” His tone is saturated with a bitterness that I’m sure only I bring out in him.
“I mean, I was scared, Eric. I was barely finished with my master’s degree and I got fucking pregnant! Of course my first thought was to not have a baby, I wasn’t ready and neither were you.”
My eyes water as I think of the fear that ripped through me when I’d missed my period over five years ago. Every twenty-eight days since I was twelve—every twenty-eight—I’d gotten my period. I didn’t need a pregnancy test to tell me what I already knew, but proceeded with the formality anyway.
“Don’t you think I was scared?” Eric runs his hand over his hair and rests it on the back of his neck. “Jesus, I was already started in my doctoral program. But, I loved you, Natalie. I’d never felt that way about anyone else and I knew that . . .” He trails off and looks somewhere past my shoulder.
I clear my throat and whisper, “You knew that what?”
“I knew I wanted to be with you for the long-haul, and even if they weren’t planned, I was going to love them as much as I loved you.”
My chin quivers as I start to cry. “I love them, Eric. More than absolutely anything in my life. You don’t ever need to remind me that I wanted an abortion. Ever. I feel enough guilt about that as it is.”
He grabs my shoulders and pours his brown eyes into mine. “Then why are you fighting us so hard, Nat?”
I squeeze my eyes tightly and with a shaky voice I tell him. “Because I don’t love you.”
*
For the first few days after I broke up with Ryker, things were quiet. I was able to push through schoolwork, but often found myself exhausted and going to bed by dinner time.
“I think you’re depressed,” Tosha toned out blatantly, one night that I’d managed to stay awake past six-thirty.
“Oh yeah? How’d you figure that one out,” I spat back.
“Are you still cutting?”
I’d gotten really good at hiding it and tried to only do it when I was in the shower anyway— to avoid unnecessary time in the bathroom—which would set off warning bells for her.