Page 116 of Free to Run
She shakes her head. “Not right now. I don’t want to take antacids unless I need to.” She looks at her plate. “This is kind of like feeding that need without actually feeding it, if you know what I mean.”
I nod, even though I have no idea. “Alison, when did you find out?”
She finishes chewing her second bite before looking at me directly. “The week before I left.”
I’m stunned, and more than a little hurt. “And you didn’t say anything?” I yell. I can’t help it.
She quirks an eyebrow at me.
Shit. She’s right. I have no leg to stand on. “Why didn’t you say anything?” I try again.
Taking a drink of water, she swallows before answering. “I had it all planned. It was your birthday the following week. I had the original test, the first ultrasounds, and the frame filled with a collage of pictures Holly made for me. I slipped in some of the ultrasounds to give that to you as your gift.” She lets out a deep sigh. “I was so certain you would’ve been as shocked, and then just as thrilled as I was. It was early for us, but I thought we were on the same page.” Her breathing increases and her hands shakes. “Then I walked into Hudson, and my world fell apart.” My heart hollows out hearing her tell the same story I lived through. “I felt I had no choice but to leave. What was I going to do? Be convinced it was a onetime thing?” Her laughter is hollow. “I knew I couldn’t do that. I—we—deserved more than that.”
“I got that point when I saw your message,” I say quietly. She flinches before reaching down to wrap her fingers around the diamond around her neck.
“I never felt so attuned to your mother than I did at that moment. I thought I fell in love with a Marshall, only to be betrayed.” Her voice is laced with sorrow, regret, and remembered pain. My eyes close with my own regret.
So many things could have been avoided if I’d just shared some of what was going on. So many moments lost.
“I need to tell you about that day. About Melody.”
“Jared told me some of it,” she whispers. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you, that I didn’t stay and listen.”
I scrub my hands up and down my face. “It would have made it easier, that’s for sure.”
She winces but doesn’t respond.
What am I doing? I need to be explaining to her what happened, and all I keep doing is hiding behind my fear. She’s brave enough to stand up and admit her mistakes, and she’s been carrying our baby with a broken heart.
Alison stands, setting her plate on the coffee table. “I have something for you.” I turn and watch her walk to her dining room, which is set up like an office. Picking up a book, she walks back over to the couch.
“Why don’t you spend a little time getting to know your child? I’ll be in my room packing,” she suggests. Picking up her plate of food and bottle of water, she walks away.
In my hands is a journal in pale yellow stripes. I flip it open to the first page.
In Alison’s beautiful handwriting, I see the date of the first sonogram and the words “Holy shit. I’m pregnant. What the hell is Keene going to say?” Below that is a copy of our baby’s first sonogram.
Taking a deep breath, I turn the page and read about how she decided to tell me. Then I read about her drive to Charleston, pain in every word when it mentions me, and love when it comes to our child.
For the last two months, Alison has spent her time writing out her feelings and documenting her emotions about me, her family, and her pregnancy. Every moment, in preparation for today. Well, maybe not today, but the day she told me about our child.
It’s late in the afternoon when I close the book and go in search of the other half of my heart. When I find her just a few steps away in her bedroom, I completely melt.
She’s asleep on the bed, one hand holding our child, the other wrapped around the diamond I placed around her neck earlier. The clothes she had been packing are scattered around the room. Boxes are open and partially filled.
My heart turns over in my chest as I quickly reach for my phone. I take a picture of my world curled up on her bed and save it as my background before I crawl next to her. Pushing her hair away from her face, I start to wake her.
“Alison, baby,” I whisper.
Her response is to roll closer into me and snuggle into my chest. I want nothing more than to wrap her in my arms and hold on forever. I need to know I have that right.
I stroke her hair for a few more minutes in wonder. How did she do it? How did she survive these weeks thinking I had betrayed her with part of me growing under her heart? I drop my nose into her hair and breathe deeply.
Her hair still smells the same. I don’t know why I expected anything different. Maybe because if we had been in reverse positions, I’d have tried to eradicate everything from my life that reminded me of her. But not my Alison. She held on to the love she had for my child and has been beating herself up ever since Jared told her the truth. My arms tighten.
Her sleep-filled eyes blink. “Keene,” she breathes.
“Hey,” I say quietly.
