Page 28 of Beautifully Messy
Instead, I feel the weight of a thousand choices collapsing onto my shoulders.
What is expected of me.
What it means for the future.
I close my eyes, and I’m ten again, alone on Christmas morning with the same hollow ache spreading through my chest. The same Christmas, Madame Rousseau gave meLittle Women. I can still feel the relief of opening that book and slipping into the March family’s world. The same sense of belonging I felt during my first Christmas with the Wallises.
“Syd?” Mason calls with a sharp knock.
I swallow my sobs, cutting them off before they can slide under the door. I inhale sharply and hold it, not trusting whatever sound might escape.
This has to be my future. The man on the other side of this door. The man I chose ten years ago. For this baby, I can do what my parents never did: choose the child over myself.
This baby will know they are loved unconditionally.
They’ll never sit by a Christmas tree alone, pretending a family from a novel is their own.
“Syd?” Mason knocks again.
“I need a minute.” I wipe away my tears and reach for that place in me where I've always hidden my needs, shoved down every inconvenient truth. This time, my body accepts the offering, letting me breathe without a crushing weight on my chest. Slipping into sweatpants and a tank, I steady my breath.
I can do this. I’ve lived my entire childhood swallowing my desires.
For this baby, I can do it again.
When I open the door and bring my shaking hands forward to reveal the test I’m holding, Mason’s eyes widen.
“Is this what I think it is?”
“Yep,” I say with a tentative smile.
He steps closer, resting a hand on my stomach. “I’m gonna be a dad?” There’s awe in his voice and disbelief in his eyes, like he’s found certainty where I feel nothing but adrift.
Silent tears fall down my cheeks.
“Hey, hey.” Mason pulls back, his thumb brushing a tear from my cheek. “What’s wrong? Aren’t you excited?”
“I’m overwhelmed. I… we hadn’t planned it.”
I don’t tell him the rest. A childhood of love, stability, and every wish fulfilled left him no concept of what toxic, selfish parents can do to a child. And it isn’t lost on me that the one person who might understand these fears isn’t the man standing here.
“You’re not alone, Syd. We’re in it together.”
I say nothing, only wrap my arms a little tighter around him, and squeeze my eyes shut, trying to believe his words. But James’s face outside the pharmacy flashes behind my lids, and I cry harder.
“How about we tell everyone at dinner tonight?” Mason says, brushing away a tear.
No. Not in front of him.
I sniffle and say, “Can we hold off until we confirm with the doctor?”
“Sure. Whatever you want.”
When he pulls me close, I let myself sink into the warmth of his arms, into the illusion of certainty he offers.
Nine
Freshsnowblanketstheground, muffling the world in a hush. The sky stretches silver and soft. I breathe deep, letting the brutal cold settle in my lungs, hoping it might dull the ache in my chest.
