He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “I wasn’t meant to have children. I never wanted them. How the fuck am I expected to be a father to a boy when I have no model to follow? Why didn’t I realize I had zero ability at parenting when I was fifteen years old? Teenage boys should be fucking locked away until they can think with something other than their dicks.”
My heart slowly sank even further as he went on about how he wasn’t meant to be a father. How he couldn’t handle the responsibility. How he would have no idea how to even do it right. He believed everything he was saying. The way the words seemed to lash out and cut him as they came out of his mouth made it very clear he didn’t want them to be true, but he believed they were.
“I am not a father. No kid deserves this.” He pointed at himself. “It’s why I wanted you on birth control. I fucked up a few times, but fate didn’t make the same mistake again with me. Thankfully, we didn’t create a life. I couldn’t deal with that. Especially now.” He looked at me. His eyes were so dark and lost. The heartache he’d lived through since his childhood clear in his blue depths. As he bared his soul to me, shared all the pain, I found a way to keep from shattering. I held myself together and I found strength I didn’t know I possessed as I listened to him.
He didn’t want the life growing inside me. He couldn’t deal with fatherhood. He had called getting pregnant a mistake. He didn’t realize it but he had. And although I disagreed with him. I knew the man he was. I knew he would be an excellent father. What mattered was he didn’t think that. And he didn’t want to be a father. He firmly believed it was impossible for him to be a good parent.
The urge to cover my stomach with both hands to protect the baby from his words was strong, but I resisted. Stone couldn’t know. Mentally, he wasn’t prepared right now. He had Wills to focus on and it was clearly wearing him down. His stress level was at its peak.
And he didn’t want a child, not even with me. My heart was destroyed, but I wouldn’t break. I couldn’t because it wasn’t only me anymore. I had someone besides Heidi that would need me. I would be all this child had. I’d do anything, absolutely anything to make sure my baby was cared for.
Wills didn’t have a mother to do that for him. If Stone didn’t fight for him, no one would. But Stone didn’t want to be a father. He was doing trying to get custody of Wills because he had no choice. This baby, my baby, wouldn’t be a burden. It would be a blessing. What Stone had called a mistake, I would raise to believe they were a special gift from God. Chosen by my mother to complete me and bring me joy. I’d keep my heartache and pain hidden.
“I’ll have to fly back to Manhattan. I need to regroup with my attorneys and decide what to do now. I should also check in on Wills to see if he’s okay.”
I simply nodded my head. Yes, he needed to go. And so did I.
He walked over and I stood in front of me. The urge to run to him and hold him in my arms was no longer there. That emotion, those feelings had somehow vanished or were simply shut off by his words. His arms wrapped around me and I hugged him back. My mind told me not to allow this to affect me while my heart hurt so badly it was hard to breathe. The two weren’t on the same page.
I didn’t stop loving him because he didn’t want a child. Not wanting a child simply made it impossible for me to stay with him. Maybe one day I wouldn’t love him. Maybe watching our child grow up would remind me of what could have been. Had he been stronger. Had he wanted us.
Stone
BEULAH HAD WITHDRAWN AGAIN. I had fought against leaving. Then I’d considered calling Gerry and seeing if Beulah could take the week off so she could fly to New York with me. Gerry would have let her of course, but Beulah wouldn’t have been happy with me. She’d be worried about leaving her. I would have had a fight on my hands.
Finally, I decided that I was being paranoid. All this shit I was dealing with had to be messing with my head. Beulah had been more than affectionate all week. We’d fucked all over every inch of the house. This morning she’d seen me upset and ranting and it had startled her. She hadn’t ever seen that side of me.
Leaving was no longer an option—I had to go. My first stop would be to check in on Wills since he hadn’t been available for phone calls all week. Then I was making a trip to my mother’s house. She needed to answer some questions for me. I would have to work to get the truth but I had time. Without her answers, I couldn’t move forward with my life. And now that Hilda was no longer fighting for Wills, I had more work on my hands.
I texted Beulah as soon as I landed at JFK Airport, but she hadn’t responded and it had been over an hour. I arrived to check on Wills and battled if I should call her or check on Wills first. I decided she could be busy and I would give her more time. If she hadn’t responded in a couple hours I would call.
When I reached the front door and rang the bell, I expected the door to open within seconds like it always did. My father’s staff had always been overly efficient. If they weren’t he fired them.
However, after a couple of minutes I was still standing outside. I rang again and waited. Time ticked slowly and no one came to the door. This wasn’t normal. It was so abnormal that I began to grow worried. I pulled my phone back out of my pocket and called the number that would reach Wills nanny.
It rang and then went to a voicemail.
I called the main house line.
Again I got voicemail.
As much as I didn’t want to, I called my father. This was his house and no one was answering the door or phone, and that was so out of character that there was no reasonable explanation for it. My worry was escalating to fear as my stomach roiled. Wills hadn’t been available all week. But at least I had spoken to the Nanny.
This silence was different.
My father’s voicemail was the last warning flag I needed. There was something off. This sudden cut of communication wasn’t just a coincidence. They weren’t all busy. This had been planned. Wills inability to talk to me all week now felt more suspicious than understandable.
I walked away from the house as I dialed my father’s office. He may not be answering but I knew that Richardson Enterprises would be open for business.
“Good Afternoon, Richardson Enterprises. How can I direct your call?” It was Margaret. She was thirty-seven, divorced, had three kids, and was sleeping with Harold from marketing. Harold was married and thirty years old, no kids. I knew my father’s employees. I made it point to know everything about them. Something he never did and that I’d hoped would help me one day.
“Hello, Margaret. It’s Winston. How are you today?”
“Oh, hello Winston. I’m doing great. Thank you,” the smile in her tone was always flirty. Even though she was fifteen years older than me and currently involved in an affair. She liked the attention from men.
“How did Bart’s tennis match go?” I asked remembering she had mentioned her oldest son Bart had a tennis tournament when I had spoken with her last week while visiting the office.