Page 98 of Wanted

I clear my throat before speaking. “I’m going to leave the room because that’s what you want, but I’m not leaving. I won’t leave you alone, neither you nor our baby.”

More tears, this time she puts her hands to her face, trying to support herself.

“You don’t know that, you don’t know if it’s your baby or…”

Of course I know, why would she say otherwise?

“He was at my house, he had been waiting for me. I was drunk and broken, he found me in the bathroom and took me to the room. When I woke up hours later, I was naked in bed.”

My hands are clenched into fists on either side of my body, motherfucker, I must find him and then make him pay me for what he’s done to her. But she has to know…

“Stella, you’re eight weeks pregnant, it’s not possible…”

Not caring about anything else, I sit next to her bed, wrapping her in my arms. She continues crying, her face buried in my neck, wetting my shirt. Let it all out, let go, I’m here with you. You will never be alone again, my heart is your home. I tell her as I run my hands down her back, comforting her. Telling her with my body what I know now I should tell her with more than just words.

“It doesn’t matter when it happened,” she murmurs when her crying has subsided. “What he did…”

I’m going to kill him, but first I’m going to cut his balls off and make him swallow them. Slowly and painfully.

“Listen, you and I, we are a family. And families face everything together, united.”

That makes her cry harder.

“And if it turns out that…”

Her body shudders, but I hold firm. I’m her rock, she can rest on me.

“That doesn’t change anything. The baby is yours, and you are mine. You know I would love him or her regardless, I know you know.” Growing up in the system, I know what it’s like to feel rejected. I wouldn’t do that to a child, much less to Stella’s kid. In my mind and my heart, it would be mine.

“You can let me go now.”

She pushes me with her hands, trying to put some distance between us.

“Never,” I reply, pressing her closer to my chest, but she struggles to free herself from my grip.

“I want you to go,” she says quietly but firmly. “I told you when you were in the hospital, I’ll sign anything for you, I just want peace.”

She doesn’t have to sign anything because it won’t be necessary. We haven’t said everything that needs to be said.

“Look, Stella, the first time I saw you, I didn’t know you or your intentions. The only thing I knew was that you were a stranger claiming to be my wife.”

We have to put some space between us to have this conversation, so I reluctantly let her go. She has her hands clasped on her lap and her eyes fixed on them.

“That night, after you went to sleep at the hotel, Jackson and I made a plan. He told me everything you had done, so I agreed. He trusts Catherine’s intuition with people, and I trust him. We both knew you were the key in all this mess, I knew you weren’t involved, but…” I pause because I need a couple of seconds to collect myself because I’m about to stutter, I see her cringe, as my lack of words is hurting her. “But more than that, I wanted to know you better because I saw something in you, something that called me to protect you. This instinct, almost like a reflex…”

“None of that was enough for you to tell me the truth, though was it?” Her words have the force of a whip, like I can actually feel them. Abrasive, like a burn on my back.

“We needed time, you know that.”

“Time for you to feed me lies,” she accuses, staring at me, the pain reflected in those infinite blue eyes that knock me out straight onto the canvas. “While I unknowingly fell in love with a new man. Now I realize that although the other Lionel and you are different people, you have something in common. Neither one is real.”

I open my mouth to speak, but again she raises her hand to stop my words. Of course, I’m real, what we lived was real, everything we said to each other was real.

She poured her heart out there. And so did I.

“That doesn’t matter, nothing matters anymore. Go away, Lionel.”

Her decision is made.

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