Page 83 of Unconventionally, Elle
"Why are you with someone who is obviously about to be a dad when you don't want to be a mother? The math isn't mathing, my girl."
"It's not that easy," I replied defensively. "I can't just leave Barrett. I love him."
"Okay," she said, "but who do you love more?"
Rachel's question haunted me for two days.Who do I love more?It was an impossible question, and she knew it. Unfortunately, since my visit to the city, my relationship with Barrett felt like walking on eggshells; the conversation about the baby was the elephant in the room that neither of us would acknowledge. I think I knew that if we did, our relationship wouldn't survive.
So when he came into the kitchen this morning and reminded me that today was Margaret's appointment, I felt icy jealousy spread throughout my body. I knew without a doubt that I did not want to share Barrett with Margaret. Part of me had been trying to hold on to hope that he would choose me and not her. The other part of me was fairly certain that their child was going to have the best father in the world and I wouldn't get to see it.
"Okay, I'll be back right after the ultrasound, or whatever it is they do. Apparently, they're going to tell her the gender today!" His voice was bright, and he fumbled his keys in excitement.
I tried to be excited for him, but the huge pit in my stomach told me this was the beginning of the end. "Sounds great, let me know what happens." I forced a smile and tried, really tried, to show him I was being supportive. "Louie and I will be here anxiously awaiting your return." I winked and blew him a kiss.
He was out the door before he noticed.
I stared at the door for a few moments, then turned to Louie.
"Who's the bestest, goodest boy? Can you give Mommy kisses?" I snuggled his squishy face and peppered him with tiny, delicate pecks. He graciously returned them with his own slobbery licks. I looked back at my laptop and went to work on the article that was due for Olivia. On another screen, I had a résumé waiting to download from Canva. Ever since I turned inmy manuscript, I'd felt more confident in my writing abilities, so I'd started applying for more freelancing opportunities and trying to keep my savings from depleting entirely.
51
Now
Over the past few weeks, the baby was all Barrett could talk about. Seeing its face. Hearing the heartbeat. Whenever Margaret called, he'd step outside and give me a quick glance and mouth,Sorry.I hated it but also understood. I knew I needed to be the better person. I knew I needed to support Barrett in this journey--his journey. I'd never forget the happiness that resonated in his voice when he showed me the envelope containing the sex of the baby.
"Elle, I'm having a son! A son, can you believe it? As soon as I heard his heartbeat--oh my God, I can't explain it. I knew in that moment that I was in love with someone I've never technically met. I know that I have to be this little boy's father in the best way I can." His eyes were gleaming. "I wish you could have seen it, Elle. I wish you'd been there."
I tried to smile and reciprocate his joy, but the thought of a baby moving in Margaret's stomach was unappealing to me. The baby was due in June, so only a few more short months until a new baby Henry was bouncing around Boston. I bet he'd inherit the crystal-blue Henry stare too.
I didn't tell anyone my plan. But I knew the day he left for the appointment that I had to end things with Barrett Henry, and I'd spent the past month trying to convince myself otherwise. When he came home full of determination to right the wrongs of his father, I knew my life didn't fit into the equation. Barrett and I had that pure, profound love. Our connection was deep and would forever have an impact on my life. But we were at a crossroads, an insurmountable barrier that neither of us could compromise on without sacrificing a part of our happiness or identity.
He was home in Seaport working when I arrived in athletic clothes with Louie.
"Hey, babe! I wasn't expecting you this afternoon. Did I tell you that Margaret took a video of her stomach moving and sent it to me! I still cannot believe that this is real." He noticed my soft smile and resigned gaze. His smile slowly transformed into a delicate frown and his brow furrowed in confusion. "Elle, you have Louie. Is everything okay?" His voice was a tense mixture of apprehension and calm.
I took a deep breath. "I came to bring him home." My voice cracked as I handed him Louie's leash.
His demeanor changed immediately. The anxiety rolled off his body, and his eyes widened while his breathing came in irregular bursts. "Elle, what's wrong. Let's figure this out. What's wrong?" he urged as he dropped Louie's leash and allowed him to roam through the condo.
"Barrett, I've been thinking--"
"No!" he demanded. "No!"
I gave him a sad smile and continued. "Barrett, I've been thinking, ever since you went to the appointment, you adore this baby. You can't wait to be a father."
"Elle, please." His sobs and cracked voice forced tears to begin streaming down my cheeks. "Please, don't do this."
"Barrett, I love you. You know I love you, but I can't do this. I can't be a mother and compromise that part of myself."
He began pacing, shaking his head and wiping tears from his face. Louie felt the anxiety in the room and began pacing as well. Eventually, Louie stopped by my legs, jumped up with his paws, and scratched at me, telling me to pick him up.
"Elle, stop. Please stop. We can figure this out. I won't have custody the whole time. It'll be fifty-fifty. The baby won't be around that much. Our lives won't really change. I promise. It won't change."
"Barrett, it will change." I walked over to him and reached for his hand. Louie followed. "You are going to be the best daddy that baby could have. He is so lucky to have you to love him."
He looked down, shoulders trembling with every sob. "We can make it work." His voice was barely a whisper as I opened my arms and wrapped them around him. Crying into my shoulder and holding me tight, he murmured, "Elle, I need you. I love you. I'm so sorry I've been distant."
I could feel his tears soaking through my T-shirt, and my own tears were bleeding through his.
