DEFIANT (A WESTERN BAD BOY ROMANCE) (16 page)

I
dim
the lights a shade and turn the music up. Then I light the candles. I want this night to be perfect.

Perfect for me and the man I love.

I knew that Clif would come around sooner or later. I had known it all along. And now, our love is blossoming. I could see it in his eyes when he finally accepted our destiny: a radiant beam that pierced deep into my heart, making our souls one.

And we are
happy
together. It is what I prayed for, and so much more.

I know how hard Clif works all day. So I have taken pains to make sure that this is an
extra
special evening. Dinner is prepped, the table is set...all that is left is opening the wine and making it a night to remember.

I sigh and hurry to the bathroom. I need to freshen up for him. I dyed my hair blonde and cut it short. It is how Clif's little friend, that one-night-stand-went-wrong named Katie, used to wear hers. I know he likes blondes and I want to surprise him. And he is going to
flip
when he sees my new lingerie. I bought it just for tonight. I catch myself giggling at my reflection. I feel like a Christmas present just waiting to be unwrapped. I give myself a final once-over before heading back into the dining room.

I am so caught up in myself that I do not hear the door open.

"Baby, you are home," I gush. I am so happy to see him.

"
W
hat
...What the hell is all this?!
" I’m infuriated—she’s a crazed maniac. The lights are turned low, there must be at least thirty candles scattered throughout my place, and an ostentatious spread on the dinner table looks like something out of a Disney cartoon. Wispy frills and multi-colored fabrics hanging from the lights, ceiling, chairs, and other objects depicts a sort of fairytale wonderland ambiance. Her smile dries up when she notices my seething, resentful air.

"How the hell did you get in?"

"The housekeeper was here. I told her I was your fiancée and she let me in," she giggles.

"
You're
completely insane
." I look around my home in shock and disbelief.

Finally, I’m at my wit’s end. I can’t do this any longer. I sit down and bury my head in my hands. A lifetime of this, raising a child with this nut, is unfathomable.

I know I was careful! I know I used a condom! This can’t be possible! Not with her, not like this!

“Baby, what’s wrong? Aren’t you happy? I planned a special evening for us.” Taylor walks up to my right and lays a hand across my neck and shoulder, massaging me. I’m too overcome to smack it away. She won—I’ve been routed. No use fighting this anymore.

She continues to rub my neck while I fret over my sad state of affairs. With my head still resting on my hands, I angle my face towards her to apologize and…then it hits me!

Like a ton of fucking bricks!

I gaze hard at her stomach, which is at my eye level: flat as a pancake!

Immediately I sit bolt upright and whip out my phone. I do a quick Internet image search on ‘three month pregnant belly’—sure as shit—no baby bump!

I jump to my feet, knocking my chair over in the process. “C’mon, we’re going to the hospital!” I say, grabbing her arm and pulling her towards the door. “Grab your coat.”

“What?! No! Why?” she deplores anxiously.

"We're getting to the bottom of this right now."

"B-but, what about dinner?” she stammers. “Baby, I did this all for you!"

I drag her out to my vehicle amidst shouts and protests.

During the drive over I call a local doctor friend of mine. “Hey Bill, Clif Jackson here.”

“Hi Clif. Long time no talk. When we skiing next?”

“Yeah, sorry, been real busy. Say, I’m sorry I don’t have much time talk—I need a big favor and were wondering if you can help?”

“Sure. Whatever I can do. What’s up?”

“Need to get a STAT pregnancy test done on a female friend of mine. Wondering if you could make some calls to the ED to set something up. I’d explain more, but this is an emergency. We’re heading over there right now. I don’t care what it costs, I’ll pay out of pocket, we just have to be absolutely sure if she’s pregnant or not.”

“Let me make some calls. I’ll get back to you in a few.”

We hang up. A short while later we are pulling into the emergency department’s parking lot. My phone rings. “Yeah Bill? What do you got?”

“Go to the front desk and ask to see Dr. Trish O’Reilly. Tell them you talked to me.”

“Sounds great, thanks so much, Bill.”

I park my vehicle and growl sternly to Taylor, “You
will
cooperate! You
will
take another pregnancy test.”

She glowers at me with hate in her eyes.

We check in at the front desk as instructed. After filling out the necessary paperwork we take a seat in the waiting room. Half an hour later a nurse walks out and invites us back.

“Okay Ms. Dell,” the nurse begins, “We are going to do two different pregnancy tests. One is a simple screening test that requires a urine sample; the other is a blood test that—“

With terrified eyes Taylor interrupts, “Blood test? Like, with a needle?”

“Yes, I’m afraid so.”

“Nooo!” Taylor wails. “No, I hate needles! I hate them, hate them, hate them!” She looks at me pleadingly.

“Please, give us a moment,” I smile placidly at the nurse. Drawing the curtain behind her, I grab Taylor’s shoulders and hiss, “Shut up! I’m warning you—you will take the blood test or we’re through!” The burning contempt in my eyes lets her know in no uncertain terms that I’m all business; she calms down immediately and nods timidly.

I pull back the curtain and invite the nurse back in. Taylor provides the samples. As suspected, her urine test came back negative. I make no outward display of exultation when the nurse tells us the result, even though I want to jump for joy; I merely nod my head in agreement. “The blood test has to go to the lab. It will take about forty to fifty minutes to complete.”

“We’ll wait,” I say. The nurse leaves to attend to other patients. I turn to Taylor and give her the Look of Death. She doesn’t meet my eyes.

I knew it!

An hour later the curtain swooshes open. “Hi. I’m Dr. O’Reilly,” a tall, dark-haired woman with glasses greets. She shakes our hands, then address Taylor. “Ms. Dell, your tests came back negative. Now understand, if you are still early in your pregnancy the result will be falsely negative. I suggest you follow up with another test in two weeks. If you are indeed pregnant, the test will be positive at that time.”

I stand up and pump the good doctor’s hand vigorously. “Thank you so much, Dr. O’Reilly. Thanks so much for seeing us on such short notice.”

"My pleasure, Mr. Jackson,” she smiles warmly. Then she leans into me and whispers, “You owe me dinner.”

"Whatever you want," I return her smile. Relief floods every fucking particle of my body.

I look back at Taylor—she’s sulking like a little kid who just got in trouble for raiding the cookie jar.

"I don't know
why
you have to treat me like this," she pouts.

"You're unbelievable."

I grab my jacket and get ready to leave. Taylor’s on her own—she can walk home for all I care. Taylor screams.

Suddenly she screeches like a wild cat, so loudly I’m paralyzed. Then she lunges towards Dr. O’Reilly like she’s possessed, scratching and clawing, but fortunately I grab her and pluck her off before she can do too much damage.

"
Help!”
Dr. O’Reilly yells.
“Someone get in here with a tranquilizer!”

I restrain her without too much effort, even though she’s kicking and flailing and spitting like a rabid animal. "Taylor, quit it! Have you gone completely mad?? Do you want to go to jail? Stop it right fucking now!"

"I don't care! Daddy can bail me out.
Fucking let me go!
"

A big burly male nurse about my height but twice as stout rushes into the room wielding a giant syringe and needle.

"Look, Taylor! Look! You’re going to get stabbed with a giant needle if you don’t stop this instant! Is that what you want?” I warn menacingly. “Calm the fuck down!”

The male nurse is at Taylor’s side clutching her arm, poised to thrust the intimidating needle into her body. She stops squirming immediately, her eyes huge when they catch sight of it.

We’re both panting. “I’m going to let you go now, okay? Can we trust you? You strike out again and you’re getting put to sleep, understand?”

She nods and goes limp. I release her. “I want you to leave, Taylor. And I don’t ever want to see you again.”

She looks around at all the faces in the room with defeat in her eyes.

One of her nails ripped off, she sucks her finger like a little girl. Her eyes dart between Dr. O’Reilly and me. When she speaks again, it's the soft, breathy whine I'm used to; her normal voice. It's as if the outburst never happened. "You know Clif, all I ever did, I did for you. I can't help loving you. All I wanted was for you to be happy, for us to be together. I even got rid of that slut Katie so she wouldn’t get in the way of our love.”

"
In the way?
What do you mean,
in the way
?" My heart is pounding. "
What the fuck did you do?
" I say, panic rising in my voice.

It's all I can think of as I run out.

"
H
ello
, Ms. Fischer?"

"Yes, this is she?"

"Hello, I'm calling about an outstanding debt that—"

Hatefully I slam the phone down. How could they send collections after me already?!

I sit down glumly at the kitchen table. I'm all dressed up for an interview, but I don't want to go anywhere now. I was in a good mood. Things were finally going my way again, and I was hoping to start this day off right. It's eight in the morning.

I’m depressed. The financial burden is simply too much. I call Noah. I feel like a sick, cheap, tawdry individual. But there’s nothing left for me to do other than file for bankruptcy.

“Hello?” his voice sounds from the other end.

Time to lie like I’ve never lied before: "Hi Noah. You never lost me. I want you back, and I forgive you."

"Oh honey."

And just like that, we're back together.

I pop a couple aspirin for my headache and grab my purse. This is going to be a long day.

A
week
later and the little apartment is history. Noah hired someone to plan our wedding as soon as possible before I start to show. I'm sitting in Noah’s bedroom now (our bedroom), scrolling through the various themes and locations the wedding planner suggested on my laptop.

I moved my life away from the Bay Area, away from all those familiar haunts, away from the dreams and plans we made as kids. Home is Noah's new house in the Hollywood hills. There's a mile of marble on the floor, a courtyard with a pool, a kitchen full of stainless steel, a 64" plasma TV, a pool. Closets bigger than our old apartment. It feels too big for the two of us.

I had to turn down a consulting gig in San Fran to move here. Unhappily, twenty minutes after touching down I realized I hate everything about Los Angeles: the traffic, the noise, the pollution, the attitude, everything. And what’s worse is that it only took me two days to realize I don't feel a thing for Noah.

It’s ridiculous, really, when I think about it—after all, isn’t this what I wanted all along? Riches? A stable life together?

If only I still liked Noah, I wouldn't be so unhappy. But maybe if we take things slow life will turn itself around. I’m trying to love him again, trying to make this work. We slept together the first night, and the memory still makes my skin crawl.

I'm living a lie.

At least my father's taken care of and the doctor bills are being paid down. And I don't have collections breathing down my neck, threatening to take everything.

And most importantly, there's now a future for my baby.

I sigh and email the wedding planner my choice. I barely even looked through them. It doesn't matter; it’s all just a stupid formality. I lie down in bed and stare at the ceiling, running my hands over my tummy. I'm starting to show. “
It's all for you
,” I whisper to the tiny life growing inside me.

I had a burst of affection the other day for Noah. I could almost remember what it felt like before. Now I can't though. I want so badly to be in love with him, to be a good wife, but I know it's just a pipedream. But whatever: so long as I can make the marriage work, then I'll be OK.

After all, I owe it to Noah. He's okay with raising another man's baby. He wanted me back. He's grown up.

I just don't love him anymore.

“Okay,” I sigh quietly to myself. “Time to get up.” Noah left for work twenty minutes ago, and there's a big day ahead of me. First, a job interview. Then errands. And then I have to meet with the wedding planner in person; there's so much to prepare.

A
few hours
later I return.

I slam the front door.
That fucking prick
. I can't believe the way I was treated at that interview. So what if I'm pregnant? That misogynistic
asshole
didn't take me seriously, and I've got the best resume in California.
Fuck him. I’m better off without dinks like that micromanaging my life anyway
.

I storm into the bedroom to change into something more comfortable before I waste time in traffic for another two hours. How does anything
ever get done in this crowded, godforsaken city?

Strangely, something feels wrong. Off. I sit down on the bed, then stand up again, running a hand over the comforter. Something...I walk into the bathroom, then back into the bedroom.

Perfume.

It smells like…Obsession from CK. I don't wear it. I feel my heart begin to pound. No...No, it can't be. Noah wouldn't. I'm about to change when I see something on the floor, peeking out from under the comforter.

I stoop to fish it out of the shadow. My heart breaks: it's a blue lace thong, size 2.

They were just here. I sit on the floor, back against the bed, and cry. It's a long time before I can stop.

"
H
oney
, what's wrong?"

"Nothing." I roll over. I keep thinking about Clif. It's fifteen hours and forty-five minutes from here to Jackson. I could start driving now; I could be there tomorrow afternoon.

I still remember the way Clif made me feel. I remember the snow, the sunshine. And the romance. It's all slipping away.

If only it hadn't happened. Why?! Why did it have to? And things seemed to be going so perfectly! If only he hadn't got that girl pregnant I could have had a totally different life. It all feels like such a faraway dream now.

"Katie, what's wrong?" Noah tickles my back softly. "You've been so distant lately.”

God I don't feel a thing for him. And it's disgusting that he's cheating on me, not that I really care though. Hell, I’m cheating on him, too, of sorts.

"Honey...talk to me." He nuzzles up behind me.

I should have told Clif. I should have told him I'm pregnant. Maybe I'd have got some answers. Or a different life. I wonder what he's doing now. If he misses me. What the other woman is like. I want to feel his touch again, not this emptiness. Even though I can barely stand to look at Noah, I'm marrying him in three weeks. What can I say? I need the money.