Page 66 of The Vegas Rerun
Joshua rubs a hand over his mouth, then through his hair, and then he shakes his head.
“I get how it sounds when you hear it like that. But it wasn’t about not wanting kids,” he says. “It was about not wanting kids with her. I never loved her. I barely liked her toward the end. And the idea of being tethered to her forever … well it wasn’t something I wanted.”
He trails off, shaking his head, and we both fall quiet for a moment. If he is saying I should have told him about Autumn, and he was pissed off about this other girl because he didn’t love her, does that mean … No, he can’t mean that. I’m reading too much into his words. I have to let that thread go and try to make him understand how I felt.
“I didn’t know any of that,” I say. “I only knew what I heard. And I panicked. I thought if you knew, you’d either reject her, or worse, you would try to take her from me.”
“I would never do that,” he says.
I’m not sure which part he’s referring to – rejecting her or trying to take her, maybe he means both – but I go on anyway, because he still doesn’t get it.
“I didn’t know that, Joshua,” I snap, then immediately I soften. “I didn’t know that. You were my boss. You werepowerful. And I was just me. A new hire trying to stay afloat. I had only worked at the company a week or so then, and all I really knew of you was that one night in Vegas and the smell of your cologne in the hallway. So, I kept quiet. Maybe I was wrong, but I hope you can understand where I was coming from.”
He turns to face me again, and there’s something new in his expression now. Not just shock or confusion. Something deeper. Regret, maybe. Or hurt.
“You really thought I wouldn’t want her?”
“I thought you’d resent her,” I whisper. “And I couldn’t bear that. Not for her. I didn’t want you to feel obligated to do anything, because I don’t want anyone in my baby’s life who is only there because they feel like they have to be.”
The silence falls between us and stretches out again. Joshua walks to the far end of the room, pauses and puts his hands on his hips, then he removes them and comes back. He’s pacing now. Processing things.
“She’s incredible,” he says finally. “That little girl. I’ve known her for two minutes, and I already… Let’s just say she’s something. Something special.”
A tight ache coils in my chest.
“She’s my whole world,” I say and despite everything, I can’t help but smile as I think of her.
He slowly shakes his head.
“And I missed all of it.”
I don’t reply to that because I don’t know what to say. After a moment, he stops pacing and comes and sits back down on the bed.
“Look I understand that you couldn’t tell me when you had no real idea who I was. I even think I kind of understand why you were worried about telling me when you first came to work for me. But as we got closer, how could you still think so little of me?”
“It’s not that I thought little of you,” I say. “I just thought you didn’t want kids. I already had that idea in my head and then that night we spent at your place after Oscar’s christening. We were barely done having sex and you ran from the room to get me some water to take my birth control pill. That kind of confirmed you were worried I might get pregnant.”
“What? No … I thought I was doing you a favor getting you the water. Because I remembered that night in the office, how you took you birth control right after we … you know. I thought it was you who was terrified of being late with it and getting pregnant.”
“Sure,” I say, and I raise an eyebrow. “Because nothing screams I’m ready to be a father like a man practically shoving a water bottle into your hand so you can swallow your birth control pill.”
He groans, rubbing his face.
“Christ. I didn’t realize I came off that way.”
“You did,” I say, softer now. “And I internalized it. All of it. The night in Vegas when you told me how work was going to be your main focus after the trip. The way you talked about not wanting to be a father with your ex-girlfriend. It wasn’t just one thing, Joshua. It was a dozen tiny signals that told me you didn’t want that kind of life.”
He leans forward; his eyes narrowed slightly.
“Is this the real reason why you kept saying us being together was a mistake, why you wouldn’t give us a chance? It had nothing to do with not dating colleagues, did it?”
I meet his gaze. Slowly, I nod my head.
“I don’t generally date colleagues, but trust me, you would have been an exception,” I say.
He inhales sharply, then he stands up in one sudden movement.
I flinch. Not from fear, but from the sudden chill that seems to have permeated the room. Joshua stands beside my bed for a moment, and he looks down at me. His eyes are full of something I can’t decipher. Sadness? Disappointment? Anger? I really don’t know what it is.
