Page 32 of The Infiniteness of Yesterday
Swallowing past the lump lodged in my throat, I tell him, “Spencer thought he was doing the best thing for Monroe and me. He wanted to take care of us, and he thought if he made a couple hundred bucks modeling then hey, we’d have money for formula and diapers. I knew he didn’t believe it would go very far, but my gut told me there was a chance he could be successful and I was terrified of how it would change everything. But he really was just trying to be a good dad and boyfriend.”
Jameson pulls me closer, wrapping one arm around me so my head rests on his arm and his fingers brush lazily against my shoulder. “He wanted to marry you.”
It’s a statement because he knows this. I’ve always been open and honest about my relationship with Spencer, our past and our present. Spencer is always going to be in my life
“He did.” I trace my finger over the dip between his pectoral muscles. “But I was young, so young, and I didn’t want to get married just because we had a kid together.”
“Do you think that’s the only reason Spencer wanted to marry you? Because you guys had a baby together?”
I bite my lip and then release a slow, shaky breath. It’s weird to talk about this with Jameson of all people, but I know it’s important that I do. “I used to. I thought the only reason he was asking me to marry him was because I was pregnant, and then because we had a baby. And I’m sure if I hadn’t gotten pregnant, he wouldn’t have been proposing then, but later…” I pause, memories flooding me and stupid tears pricking my eyes. “Later, after I broke up with him, that’s when I realized that he truly wanted to marry me for me. Because he loved me that much.” I sniffle, wiping away a tear. I trust Jameson enough to know thatme telling him this won’t make him feel insecure, but it’s still not easy to talk about. “I didn’t realize then that Spencer was already planning out a whole future for us. One with a wedding, and a house, and jobs, and more babies, and eventually growing old together. While he was envisioning everything that would come, all I could see was the present and I was afraid of the what ifs.” I take a breath, gathering myself.
“I didn’t want to marry him just because he was the father of my child. I was in love with him. He was the first boy I ever loved. But at that age … I wasn’t sure he was the only boy I’d ever love, you know? And when I told him that, it’s when I really knew I broke his heart.” Touching my fingers to Jae’s stubbled jaw, my lower lip trembles. “He told me all he could see was me, but that obviously I couldn’t see him and he was right. I didn’t want to feel like I was settling just because I got pregnant so young. Is that horrible of me? He’s not a bad guy but I didn’t want to be tied down forever just because two lines showed up on a stick.”
Saying it out loud I feel like such a bitch, but we really were children having a child. I was no more ready to get married then than I am now. I remember how scared I was when we were waiting for the test results. I paced my room while Spencer sat on my bed. When we checked the test and saw it was positive, he held me while I cried, scared out of my mind.
“Fuck, Harlow. Come here.” Jae wraps both his arms around me, pulling my body fully against his. Our legs twine together beneath the blankets and he tucks my head beneath his chin. “It doesn’t make you horrible. You’re right, you were a kid having a kid, and I think it was smart of you to not get married, and I’m not just saying that because I’m selfishly glad I’m the guy who has you today. You were already going through a major life change. You didn’t need to add marriage on top of it. Thatbeing said, I don’t think Spencer was coming from a bad place by wanting to marry you.”
“I know.” And I do know that now. Inhaling a steadying breath, I meet Jameson’s warm brown-eyed gaze. “I don’t want to talk about Spencer anymore.”
He notices the change in my voice and his eyes darken. “What do you want?” His voice has grown deeper.
I wrap my fingers around his neck, pulling his lips a millimeter away from mine. “You.”
His lips meet mine and he rolls my body beneath his.
In seconds, the conversation is forgotten and all that exists is the two of us as our bodies meet.
“Is Daddy taking me to school today?” Monroe stuffs her feet into her sneakers, holding the laces in each hand as she looks up at me with those round blue eyes, the same color as her father’s.
“Not today, sweetie.” I run my fingers through my hair looking for the spot where I left my camera bag. I pulled it out of my closet this morning—where I keep it on a top shelf out of Monroe’s reach of the expensive equipment—and now my chaotic brain can’t remember where I put it. I’m off today—a rarity—but only because I put in for it, so I can drive to Stanford to take engagement photos for my sister and Jasper. It’s months overdue, but none of our schedules lined up and I ended up telling them to let me know when, and I’d make it work.
Photography is my passion; one I discovered ironically after my postpartum depression. My mom had urged me to try different hobbies until I found one I loved, so I could have something entirely for myself separate from being a mother and student. Honestly, it was one of the things that saved me mostduring that time. At times I still get angry that I had such a struggle after having my baby. Sure, the timing sucked, but I wanted Roe. I knew immediately I was keeping her, and even though I was stressed on how to make it work, my parents were supportive, and Spencer was there every step of the way. In so many ways I was lucky. Girls get kicked out all the time for getting pregnant so young, but my family wasn’t like that. But none of that mattered, because after I had her my hormones decided to say a big fuck you to me.
Hands on my hips, I turn to Monroe. “Have you seen a black bag anywhere? About this big?” I hold my hands up and then out to demonstrate the size.
She shakes her head. “No. Can I have a Lunchable today?”
“Sure.” I hook my thumb over my shoulder toward the fridge. “Go pick the one you want.”
Retracing my steps back to the bedroom, I search for the bag.
Jameson left early this morning, shortly after I woke up, and I know I hadn’t gotten it down then so calling him to ask if he saw it would do no good.
Walking into the bathroom I spot the bag sitting on the floor tucked beside the shelf I have my skin care, hair, and other various products on. Now I remember setting it there before I did my hair and makeup.
Forget pregnancy brain, mom brain is a real pain in the ass, too.
Scooping up the bag, I sling it over my shoulder and meet Roe by the door.
“Did you put the Lunchable out?”
She nods vigorously. “A nacho one.” She clasps her tiny hands together and sways. “It’s on the counter.”
Setting my bag down, I grab her lunchbox and add in the Lunchable she chose, a bottle of water, and one double stuffed Oreo because my daughter is as addicted to them as I am.
Zipping it up, I pass her the box. “Here you go. We have to get out of here. We’re already running late.”
Swiping my keys from the table I have beside the door, I sling my purse over my shoulder and pick up my camera bag, opening the door for Roe so she can go out first.
