Page 72 of The Complication
A lump formed in my throat, and it was suddenly hard to swallow. My eyes burned, and I clenched my teeth as I shook my head. Not that I knew what I was shaking my head about.
“You didn’t get the chance to mourn your friend,” Byron said, his voice as soft and gentle as a ball of cotton. “I have to imagine that you were close if you agreed to be the father of her child.”
“Childhood friends.” My voice was like I was garglinggravel, and I had to clear my throat. “We…we grew up together. Decided to go to the same college on the other side of the country so we could be more independent. She was the first person I came out to, and it scared me more than when I told my parents. Because…she was my everything.” My voice cracked. The tears broke free of the crumbling dam holding them back. I fiercely wiped them away and dragged in a ragged breath, but that only seemed to break more of the defenses that had been holding me together for these past two months.
Byron jumped to his feet and darted through the apartment. I couldn’t follow him or ask what he wanted. I couldn’t even see anything anymore. He was a watery blur as my stream of tears turned into sobs.
A moment later, I felt tissues pressed into my hand. The cushion closest to me sank, and Byron’s hand squeezed my shoulder. I mopped up my face, but it did no good as all the emotions I’d bundled up and packed away broke free, stealing the air from my lungs. It felt like I was hearing the news of her death for the first time. Everything inside me was jagged edges and fractures. I would never pull myself together again because there were parts of me that were missing now.
As Byron pulled me over so that I was leaning on him, his arm around my shoulder, my evil brain whimpered that it wished these arms belonged to Declan. Byron was a good friend, but my heart wanted Declan holding me. My immovable mountain would have been able to fix this.
But there was nothing to fix. Molly was gone.
My life was changed forever, and not because I was now raising the baby she’d so desperately wanted, but because I’d never have another conversation with her. There were no more chances for us to have our late-night chats about work and life. No more ice cream and spilled tea sessions where I told her about my sex life with Declan, and she admonished me to ask the man out on a date. She would never get thechance to meet Declan. And thus, she’d never have the chance to order me to marry that man immediately to save him from a dreary, boring life.
The tears eventually dried up, but the intense pain in my chest remained. I straightened from where I’d been leaning on Byron, mopped up my face, and blew my nose.
“I’m sorry,” Byron murmured.
“No, it’s okay. Guess I needed that,” I mumbled.
“I can’t imagine you’ve had anytime to process losing her. Moments after finding out, you were handed a baby and told, ‘This is your life now.’”
A bitter scoff left me. “Pretty much. And I’d never really given much thought to having kids. That was always Molly’s thing. She didn’t want marriage or a boyfriend. She knew she wanted a baby the second she was financially stable.” A broken laugh escaped, and I clenched my fist to hold in more tears. “She begged me for my sperm. I joked with her that she’d have to at least take me out on a date first. And she did! She fucking did. I couldn’t believe it. She took me out to The Precinct. Had a great steak dinner. Followed it with a long walk through Smale Park and ice cream. We talked baby names.” My voice dipped to a whisper and my shoulders slumped. “Only hetero date I’d ever been on. The next day, I went and donated my sperm for her…our baby.”
“Sounds like an amazing woman.”
“Mn. Stubborn. But yeah, she was amazing. Funny as shit. No one could make me laugh like her. Over stupid shit, too.” I slumped against the back of the sofa and stared at the wadded-up tissues stuffed into my fist. “After the funeral, when I would think about her, I’d get so damn angry.”
“That’s normal. She was taken way too young.”
I shook my head. “No, I’d get angryat her. Like this was all her fault. She died, and now I’m trying to liveherlife when I had these plans formylife. Afterward, I’d feel guilty for being a total asshole because it’s not like she wanted to die. Shewanted to live this life, and I should feel blessed for the chance to raise Joy. Idofeel blessed.”
“I think you have a right to feel angry, whether it’s at her or fate. Doesn’t matter. You had dreams and plans that were forced to the side.” Byron shifted uncomfortably on the sofa and gazed at his hands resting in his lap. As he spoke, his fingers curled into tight fists as if he could lock his pain in his hands to keep it from spilling out beyond his control. “After my brother’s accident, I spent a lot of time angry at him because it destroyed my family. I mean, our family wasn’t great to being with, but we were holding it together. I was figuring out what I wanted to do with my life, and thenBam!Those plans were tossed aside because my older brother needed all this care, and there was never enough money. My teen years were spent either working or going to school. There wasn’t time for fun. After my dad died, things got worse. It took me a long time to stop being angry at Ronnie, even though I knew that none of this was his fault.”
“Fuck…I’m so sorry.”
Byron waved off my comment and flashed me a weak smile. “Things are better now. Ronnie is in a facility that can cater to his needs more, and he’s blossoming there. So happy. I’ve got a boyfriend who also takes good care of me and a job I love. No, things didn’t go how I wanted them to, but I made things work and I’ve got a damn good life. Keep in mind that you can’t expect too much too fast. Two months isn’t a lot of time. You didn’t get to deal with losing your friend because you had to suddenly figure out how to be a dad to a baby. And too soon afterward, you had to figure out how to live after losing everything. Just one of those things would have been too much for most people, but you had both things pummel you. Give yourself a break.”
A soft grunt escaped me. He had a point. “Except I wasn’t figuring things out. Declan rode in like my own personalknight in shining armor. He fixed everything with a wave of his checkbook.”
My new friend’s lips twisted as if he were trying very hard not to smirk. “Trust me, I’ve felt the effects of a rich boyfriend’s checkbook. It makes you feel very guilty for enjoying it, but you have to remind yourself that they are adults and are allowed to spend their money however they want.”
“True.”
Byron clapped his hands together, the sharp sound in the quiet apartment making me start. “Okay, imagine that Declan didn’t race in to save you. What would you have done? Where would you and Joy be?”
That was a fair question. My brain raced as I tried to imagine those first days. “I would have tried hard not to move back to Arizona like my parents wanted. The first week would have been in one of those shitty suite hotels until I could find a new place to live and some cheap furniture. I’ve got enough money socked away to get us on our feet, but as soon as we were settled, I’d be searching for another job.”
“What about Declan? Would you have stopped seeing him?”
“Yes.” I paused and rolled my eyes. “Maybe. I would have tried, but I have a feeling if I told him what was going on, he would have at least attempted to step in and help. We might have gotten around to the dating if he didn’t freak about Joy.”
Only he’d never really freaked out about Joy. His first introduction to her was finding her in my office alone. From that first moment, he’d sort of went with it. Like nothing could faze this man.
In fact, he adored my daughter. I could see it in his face every time he entered the room, and she was there. His eyes lit up and he would walk straight to her, eager to pick her up. He went ape shit the first time she’d crawled, just like I did.
Would we have ended up in the same spot even if I hadn’t moved in with him?
