Page 9 of For Now

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Cooking came backto me pretty quickly. I hadn’t made a meal that large in over a year, so I was a bit nervous, but they both seemed to enjoy it. Mason ate and Samuel and I made small talk about basic things, school, hobbies, and movies. I was still getting a feel for what kind of person hewas.

“Thank you so much for dinner,” hesaid.

“Oh, it’s no problem. Happy to have the company,” Isaid.

“Maybe we can do it again sometime?” heasked.

Oh, man.“Oh, um, yeah. I’m going to be busy for a while, but maybe sometime later. I mean, like when we’re both not busy, and like I said I’ll be busy for a while so I don’t know.” I said that so quickly I’m not sure I even understood myself, let alone if he understood me.God, I was justrambling.

He chuckled a bit. “Well, all right,” he said. “Thank you again.” And he and Mason walked out the door toward theroad.

I shut the door behind them and walked back to the kitchen to clean up. Why on earth had I invited them in for dinner?What is wrong with me?Who even does that?With my head reeling, I stepped back from the counter satisfied with my progress and decided the rest could wait until morning. I thought about going to sleep, but I couldn’t. Not with everything in my head. I needed to get it out. I needed to write.You seem to do a lot of that after you see him, Delilah.Shut up. Just shutup.

Chapter Six

One week after I miscarried,I sat on the edge of an exam table in my OB/GYN’s office for a check-up. The next several months were mapped out full of doctors’ appointments, various specialists, and pregnancy gurus. My doctor stood in front of me using medical jargon, explaining what had happened. It sounded like a bunch of big words that basically meant they didn’t know what the fuckhappened.

“These things are sometimes unexplainable,” hesaid.

Jeff sat next to me, holding my hand. He asked the doctor what sort of affect this miscarriage would have on future attempts. I didn’t recognize Jeff these days. He was distant, his movements mechanical. He’d callousedover.

The doctor seemed startled by his question and recommended waiting a few months. “I would wait for Delilah to heal completely, both physically and emotionally. These things can take some time,” hesaid.

“Well, what’s the minimum we need to wait? We don’t really want to wait any longer than that. We want a family,” Jeff said. His voice was stern,adamant.

The doctor hesitated for a moment and looked at me. I don’t know exactly what my face told him, but it must have been pleading forhelp.

“I would wait at least twelve weeks,” he said withauthority.

On the way home, Jeff was silent. He didn’t say much of anything these days, and I’m not sure I could say anything to make it better. He wanted a baby. I got it. So did I. I just wasn’t sure I was in line with this new perspective he seemed tohave.

He’d spent the past three days pacing around the house, talking out loud to no one in particular. Or maybe it was directed toward me. I wasn’tsure.

“We’ll just try again. We’ll try again, and we’ll see the best doctors and have the best specialists look at you and we will try again. We will have our family. We will,” heinsisted.

I wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince me or himself, but with each passing conversation he had out loud with himself while I remained silent, I grew more fearful of getting pregnant again. I never wanted to experience that loss again. I had an immense amount of guilt when I thought about that. As a wife, I should give my husband what he wants, right? He just wants a family with me. How could I deny him that? The more I thought about it, the more confused Ibecame.

I kept quiet until we got home and then went straight up to our bedroom where I’d spent the majority of the last week. I peeled out of my clothes, took a shower, and came back into the bedroom with a towel wrapped around me. I was startled to see Jeff sitting on the end of the bed. He’d slept in his study for the last week. I let him. We both needed somespace.

“I don’t think that doctor knows what he’s talking about,” hesaid.

“What do you mean, Jeff?” I asked. I was more than confused and his tone was beginning to frightenme.

“I mean, I don’t think we need to wait,” he said. He shot me a look I didn’trecognize.

“Yes, we do,” I firedback.

“No, we don’t!” he said. He was up off the bed, across the floor, and ripping my towel from my hands quicker than I could respond. The towel flopped to the floor before I could even reach for it. I stood frozen as he wrapped himself around me and kissed roughly at my neck. He ran his hands up and down the side of my body and I tried pushing themaway.

“No, Jeff. Not yet. This isn’t the time,” I said, trying to pullaway.

“Yes, it is. We can do this. Right now,” he said, pulling me back in despite my resistance. He was stronger than me by a lot, so it wasn’t hard forhim.

“Please don’t,” Ipleaded.

Jeff didn’t hear me or didn’t want to hear me. Or worst of all, heard me and didn’t care. I begged and pleaded with each movement. He pushed me back to the edge of the bed and my knees buckled. I fell back onto it and tried to get up. Jeff pushed me back down with one hand bearing down hard on my chest. I felt his knee pushing against the center of my closed legs until he parted them. I let out ayelp.

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