Cathy walked through the small apartment. It was empty of any reminders of her time there, yet her memories were vivid, particularly those of the last good days together with Chloe.
The week before, she had asked her sister and some of her closest friends to help her clean out the dingy apartment and to box up her own and Chloe’s things. It had been a very emotional day because it marked a milestone, and it had taken a huge toll on her. There had been little enough to move or to go into storage, just Chloe’s bedroom set and a few boxes. Everything else, Cathy gave away or donated. Winter’s clothing and accessories were among the first things to go. Cathy wanted nothing to do with any of it. She didn’t want any reminders of that closed chapter of her life.
She wasn’t going to be seeing Michael Lambert again.
Her decision had bothered both her sister and her best friend. In fact, Vicky had the gall to challenge her that she wasn’t thinking straight, what with all of the changes taking place in her life. She had urged her to wait and see what might come of her relationship with Michael. “He has a right to know that he’s going to be a father, Cathy.”
“I have to agree, Cathy.” Pam’s expression was troubled. “Of course we understand that it’s just too soon for you to be thinking of a serious relationship, but Chloe is making wonderful progress. You’ve got time to think things through, at least for a few months, until the baby comes.”
Cathy never confided to either of them what had caused the breakup between her and Michael or what the true parameters of their relationship had been. She tried not to feel resentful toward them for not wholeheartedly supporting her decision.
She pressed her hand against her stomach. The bouts of nausea had become familiar. Pam was on her case constantly, telling her that she had to eat, that she was losing too much weight, and that she had to pace herself. Reluctantly, her thoughts turned again on what Pam and Vicky had said. Were they right? Was her judgment too clouded by her feelings?
Cathy shook her head, tightening her lips. Michael had caused her considerable pain. She could not trust him. She could not open herself up to him again.
Out of the blue, she unwillingly remembered what he had said about his father, that he didn’t understand how anyone could abandon a child. “Damn it!” She knew intuitively that he would want to be a father to their child. She sighed. She couldn’t deprive him of that.
She would have to tell him about the baby. But not now. Not for a while.
Cathy shook herself free of her reflections. She turned on her heel and walked swiftly to the front door. It was time to turn in her key. She had finished her inspection of the apartment. There was nothing left. It had been swept clean.
Michael agonized over what further action he should take. He had tried for three more days to contact her. It had taken everything he had in him to place those calls. But he had done it because he was impelled to do so.
He had spent hours pacing like a caged animal. Several times he picked up his cell again, but each time, he stopped before putting the call through. He already got that she would not answer. He had left voice mails. Stupid, senseless messages. He had no real idea what he could possibly say to her, unable to articulate it even in his own mind. Emotion kept choking him up. If she had ever answered one of his calls, she would undoubtedly have hung up before he managed to find his voice.