Page 36 of I Shouldn't Feel This Way

“Aren’t you a little too old for that?” I chuckled. The way she giggled made me melt, especially when she looked up at me with those baby blues.

“You said you want to make up for lost time. Well, here’s your chance. I want to hear my first bedtime story.”

“Aria, I’m horrible at storytelling.”

A child was more capable, honestly.

“You’re going to need practice if you and Vanessa are planning to have kids.”

That was true.Damn it.

“What do you think storybooks are for?”

“Oh come on, please …Daddy?”

Daddy? Wow, that somehow felt strange to hear. She was breaking down my tough-guy exterior, and I couldn’t say no. I took a deep breath and thought for a moment.

Okay, what the hell, how bad could it be? Hopefully my story will bore her to sleep.

I cuddled her, as she snuggled up closer. “Once upon a time in a faraway land …” Jeez, how original. “… a beautiful princess was born into the world. Her name was Aria.”

Her cute laughter made me smile again, and it was distracting me from continuing, but I went on. “She was the most gorgeous little child to have ever been seen by anyone who was lucky enough to look upon her face.” I played with her hair while attempting my improvised narration. “The king was the youngest king to ever rule the land, and he was devastated when his princess was taken away from him during the night, never to be seen again. He swore that he would never rest until he found his daughter. And so he searched far and wide, gathering his knights and forming a deadly army, invading every village to find his long-lost princess. He became notoriously known as Mad King Noah.”

I babbled for over ten minutes, trying to piece together a make-believe story that was inspired by real-life events. And slowly but surely, she fell fast asleep. I kissed her head and softly whispered in her hair, “After many battles fought and so much blood shed, he finally found her. King Noah swore he would never let Princess Aria out of his sight again, because she was the only reason he lived. He existed for her. Without her, his life was meaningless.”

I gently lay her head down on the cushion and got out of bed. Before leaving the room, I switched off the lamp and grabbed an extra pillow for myself. Tomorrow would be a busy day for me, and I wasn’t looking forward to it, especially since I knew I wouldn’t be seeing my daughter in the evening.

****

The room was hot, so I pulled off my tank top and threw it on the coffee table. I was resting on the sofa and it took me a while to find my comfy spot, but I eventually decided to sleep on my back, folding my hands behind my head. There were so many things going through my mind that sleep could not come sooner. I had this big case I was working on and it was stressing me because it was going to litigation. Being a corporate lawyer had its pros and cons. I had never lost a client. Noah Hunter didn’t lose. That word didn’t exist in my vocabulary.

I was worried about my wife too. Vanessa was becoming addicted to cosmetic surgery. The year before, she had got two breast implant replacements, liposuction on her stomach and thighs, and a brow lift. I’d had a huge fight with her about her addiction to Collagen lip injections and Botox before coming to New York. I told her I didn’t want to kiss fish lips for the rest of my life. The trout pout was extremely unattractive. We argued back and forth about how she hated her lips, blah, blah … Long story short, I threatened to divorce her if she went through with it again (which I wouldn’t really do, but I wanted to knock some sense into her). I felt like an asshole when she started crying. She said she always felt insecure about her appearance and just wanted to look perfect. Her definition of perfection was different from mine.

What the hell is wrong with women? I mean, they blame us guys for promoting all these painful beauty practices when they’re the ones who insist on going under the knife. We’re more than happy with their natural beauty—at least that’s how I look at it. I preferred real over fake any day. I never forced my wife to change, nor did I ever suggest she get a pair of silicone tits. In fact, one of the reasons why I popped the question to Vanessa in the first place was because, out of all the women that I was acquainted with, she was the most down-to-earth, genuine person.

Six months into our marriage, she started hanging out with all the wives of my partners at the firm, and I guess the influence of those middle-aged plastic Barbies distorted her outlook on beauty. The glamor of living a Hollywood life had rubbed off on her, and now I was living with a castmate fromReal Housewives of Beverly Hillsinstead of the woman I’d married.

I tried not to upset myself with such thoughts as I grabbed my cellphone and set my alarm. When I looked up, I was surprised to see Aria standing right above me. My eyes had adjusted to the darkness, and I was able to see the terrified expression on her face. “Aria, are you all right?”

She was shaking. “I had a nightmare.”

Instinctively, I sat up, took her hand, and pulled her toward me. She curled up in my lap and started to cry.

“Sweetheart, talk to me.” I tried to console her as best I could while she covered her face with her hands.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“Don’t hide your face. It’s okay to cry.” I gently removed her hands and wiped her tears away.

“I dreamed that you were gone. I woke up and you had left. I tried to call your phone, but it was disconnected and all your things were missing.” She sounded like she was having a panic attack. It broke my heart to realize the extent of her fear.

“Aria, I haven’t left. I promised you I would never leave. It was just a nightmare, angel. You don’t have to be afraid. Look at me—look into my eyes.”

She slowly tilted her head up and met my gaze. “Do you love me?” she said.

Her vulnerability moved me. “More than I love anyone else.”

“Then prove it.”

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