Page 71 of Dirty Little Secret, Baby
How could she do that?
"Alex? Let me explain," Beth says quietly.
But this time, it's me who shakes my head. Without a word, I get up and leave the examination room. "Alex, wait," Beth calls after me. But I don't wait. I just keep walking, leave the building, and head to my car in the starting rain and darkness, while my emotions overwhelm me.
Then I'm sitting behind my steering wheel and—I think for the first time since my childhood—I feel anger and grief not as adversaries. My eyes are moist, too. Little Ben appears in my mind's eye, the boy I held in my arms earlier and had somehow taken a liking to.
I have a son? Why didn't she say anything? Why did she keep him from me? What else is she hiding from me?
Chapter 33
Beth
Three days later
"It's okay, Ben. It's all right, my little one," I murmur to my son as I pull off his onesie and look at the fading spots. I had chickenpox as a child myself, so thankfully I'm spared from having to wear gloves. Veronica too. So everything can pretty much go on as usual, aside from the little mittens we got for Ben to keep him from scratching.
"I know it's itchy, but the doctor said today that you're basically almost over it. You're a brave little boy," I add, gently pushing his little arms aside and pulling a new outfit over his head.
The last few days have been hard. Ben has been sleeping restlessly, and so have I. We were pretty much attached at thehip the whole time. The shop was only open a few hours a day, and only then thanks to Veronica and Paula. Of course, that upset the customers, and when I had to cancel several online orders, that also led to a string of bad reviews, which makes me worry that far fewer people will order from me than before. But I'll have to deal with that. It was important to me to be there for Ben during that time, to take care of him, something I've neglected for far too long anyway. I can't even figure out where he got chickenpox from, since we hardly have any contact with other children.
My guilt rears its head on that point, too, because that would be so important for him. But with the shop, I don't know when I'm supposed to fit that in. I really only have time in the evenings right now, after the shop is closed, but of course, most babies his age are already in bed by then, and the playgroups are usually in the morning.
"Da da da..." Ben babbles. He's been doing that a lot lately. I read enough books about babies before he was born to know that this is a completely normal sound, just like "ma ma ma," both of which he's been making a lot lately.
And yet this sound, which put together makesDada, sends a pang through my heart. Because since his departure from the hospital, Alex hasn't been in touch.
A part of me can't blame him. After all, he found out he has a child, something I kept secret from him for quite a long time. That part of me can understand why he's angry about it, maybe even scared of taking on the responsibility. But why, really? Ididn't make any move to suggest I wanted anything from him. Or is there more to it?
Another part of me, however, thinks he should get over himself. After all, he's no saint himself and even made a bet with a rival that he could get me into bed, which is probably the only reason he went out with me in the first place. Yes, I kept Ben from him, but I didn't use him the way he used me, thinking only of my own gain. And I didn't buy the building complex across from his company to destroy his livelihood.
But what neither part of me understands is this: Why is he buying the building? Just to ruin me? What else does he want here? He doesn't need the shop anyway. And why is he playing the innocent in all of this and wanting to explain something to me? And does he think that protecting me from Chris makes all of that go away?
There's so much I don't understand about it, but it doesn't really matter. Because he hasn't been in touch since, and he hasn't been to the shop.
That says a lot more than his endless visits ever did. The matter seems crystal clear. I've lost, he's won.
I have to move out, and he gets what he wanted.
But why the hell do I have to keep thinking about the bastard who's done so much to hurt me? Why is he the one who appears before my mind's eye as I'm falling asleep, even though I have to clear out my shop because of him? I was infatuated with him atfirst, I'll admit that. But now I wonder if things like love and hate are just two sides of the same coin, and I just have to think about him so much because I hate him with a passion?
Sometimes I'd like to believe that, but I know what images form in my mind. The two of us lying on his couch. How he makes me laugh during dinner and smiles himself, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. That's...
Get it out of your head, Beth!I plead with myself inwardly.
"Alright, my love," I say to Ben, picking him up after I've finished dressing him. "Mommy is going down to her shop now, and Aunt Veronica is going to watch you. At least..." I pause, remembering her job offer in Washington. I haven't asked about it again because I'm afraid to. Afraid of the truth and of being left all alone, because childcare just isn't in the budget right now. I wipe away a silent tear, pick up Ben, and carry him down the stairs to the shop.
"So? Any customers?" I ask Veronica, who's standing behind the counter, tapping on her phone."Just one customer this morning, unfortunately," she says, smiling sadly because she knows what that means, and pats my shoulder."Okay, big boy. We'll let Mommy get to work and go for a stroll, what do you think?" she asks Ben, booping his nose, which makes him let out a happy little gurgle.
"Thank you," I whisper again. I know it's not nearly enough, and yet there's almost nothing else I can say in return, which makes me feel so small and helpless.
"Oh, please. Some fresh air will do us both good," Veronica says with a wave of her hand and starts getting Ben dressed and pulling the stroller out from the corner.
A few minutes later, after I've helped Veronica get the stroller down the steps, I watch the two of them until they round the next corner, then head back into the empty shop.
I walk silently behind the counter, my gaze sweeping over the many flowers that are still good for today and tomorrow, but by the day after, I'll have to toss many of them into the big dumpster in the alley behind my shop, which hurts not only financially, but also because of the waste.
Then I sit down on the small chair behind the counter and look at the computer to check the online orders. But there's nothing here either, even though four or five orders would usually have come in at the same time by now. Instead, there are three more bad reviews, so of course, I know the reason for that. But with my staffing situation and Ben's illness, how could I have done it any differently? It was probably only a matter of time until this all blew up in my face, and maybe it's better that it's happening now since it's all over in three months anyway.
