Page 110 of The Rejected Wife

I hold her gaze. "I lost you once. Didn’t think I’d ever have you back in my life. So, when I opened that door and saw you standing there, I felt I’d been given a second chance. I’m not going to screw things up this time."

Her chin trembles, and her lips part. She leans in at the same time as me. I press my mouth to hers. Softly. Gently. Ever so carefully. Savoring the sweetness. Feeling the tenderness well up in me.

Becoming a father and a husband has shattered the armor I once wore to protect my emotions. It’s shorn me of the barriers I put up against the world. Gone is the man who was focused only on himself. I might have been a Marine, but the money and privilege I came from gave me a false sense of security. Perhaps, it even made feel invincible in ways I wasn't aware of.

Serene coming into my life shattered those illusions. It made me painfully human. It stripped me of all illusions and showed me what life is really about. The reality of being responsible for another human being who can’t take care of herself, one who's completely dependent on me for everything, made me realize how vulnerable I am. While I went through life with confidence, feeling essentially untouchable, overnight, I turned into someone who feared the world was not a safe enough place for my daughter. And the incidents of the past twenty-four hours have, in a way, confirmed it to me.

Life is fleeting. It can change in an instant. Seeing my daughter’s prone body, finding out she wasn’t breathing, and then resuscitating her, was more traumatic than every encounter I faced on a mission as a Marine. And now that she’s alive and safe, I’m humbled and grateful. While I never gave much thought to a higher power, having my wife and daughter near me makes me appreciate this chance I've been given. And the fact that Cilla is biologically Serene's mother completely blows my mind. In a good way. It feels right. Like it was meant to be. After that initial surprise, it made so much sense, I can’t think of a reality where anything else could be true.

I lean back and look deeply into her eyes. "I love you."

Her eyes grow wide. She seems stunned. Maybe it's too much? Maybe I should have waited to tell her? Should I have given her time to assimilate her relationship to Serene before I launched this at her? But I wanted her to know as soon as it dawned on me. Surely, there’s nothing wrong with that?

"I have loved you since I first saw you struggling with your handbag and trying to get it free from the train doors."

I take in the shock on her features, which turns to surprise and pleasure. She opens her mouth, and I’m sure she’s going to tell me those three words back, when the door opens and a nurse walks in. "I need to check her and make sure everything is fine."

"Of course." My wife pulls her hand from under mine and rises from the bed. She straightens her crumpled dress, pushes the hair off her face, then smiles brightly at the nurse. "I’ll be outside." She leaves without looking at me. I take my time straightening, push aside the rejection coiling around my heart, and bend and kiss my daughter. Then, I nod at the nurse and follow my wife through the connecting door into the room next door.

I could tell myself she's upset about our daughter, which is why she didn’t return the sentiment I express to her. I'm confident she has feelings for me. I sense it when I hold her in my arms, when I look into her eyes and kiss her. When I make love to her. When I see her with Serene. I felt our connection from the second we met. And while I might have messed up when I asked her to leave that day—I don't believe it was enough to kill her feelings for me completely.

She must love me still. She must have feelings for me. So why didn’t she tell me so when I professed my love for her?

I follow her into the adjoining room. I asked the hospital to place my daughter in this suite when she came out of recovery. It meant we could spend the night in relative comfort. It has two single beds, but I can’t complain. The suite itself is outfitted more like the room of a five-star hotel, with carpets and curtains, soft lighting, and an en suite bathroom. There's even a kitchenette and a small seating area. It softens the reality that we're in a hospital. And the fact that we're so close to Serene is indispensable.

I shut the door softly and walk over to where my wife is standing by the window.

"Are you okay?" I stand next to her.

She nods but continues to stare out the window. My heart sinks a little. This isn’t looking good. I shove my thoughts aside and focus on her. "Serene’s going to be fine. She’s in good hands."

Cilla nods again.

"And I already agreed to give that woman a chance to see her."

My wife turns to face me. "It’s been a lot. I never thought I would turn out to be Serene’s biological mother. Not in a million years.” She tries to smile but her chin trembles. “It’s overwhelming.”

A flurry of unease prickles my spine. But I manage to keep all emotions off my face. Everything she says is right. And it must be a shock to find out she and Serene are mother and child.

“I have feelings for you, Tyler. A lot of powerful feelings.” She swallows.

I nod again. The hair on the back of my neck rises. “But?” I manage to force out.

“But I am still getting my head around the fact that I’m Serene’s mother.” The expression on her face turns beseeching. “I know, it shouldn’t be so. After all, this is the best possible outcome of the situation. But it seems, I’m much better at giving than receiving.” She half-smiles.

“What do you mean?” I’m trying to make sense of what she’s saying, and perhaps I have an idea, but I need her to spell it out for me.

“Turns out, when you get everything, you desire, you’re so in over your head, you need a little time to get used to the new reality.” Her gaze is pleading. “Can you give that to me please?"

53

Priscilla

You are not lost; you are choosing your path.

-Cilla’s Post-it note

I love you.Those three words I’ve hoped to hear from him. And now that he's said it, I find myself doubting him.If he really loved me, wouldn’t he have said those words to me when he asked me to marry him?

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