Tethered (60 page)

When Owen started to get cranky and demand Casey’s full attention, she quickly jotted down my address and told me how good it was to finally have an opportunity to speak to me. I wondered how much she knew about me and Emmet, but if she knew anything at all, she was willing to overlook it. Either that or it was a keep your enemies close kind of thing, but I strongly doubted that. She was too nice.

After the phone call ended, I lost my desire to go make myself fat. I collapsed on the couch instead and threw an arm over my eyes as I tried to process how I was feeling about Casey’s attempt at friendship. It could have been worse. She could have been out for my blood. Then again, that could be her MO, to lure me with her super sweetness and then attack me while my defenses were down.

My phone rang again. I didn’t look again before answering it, because who could be a more shocking person to call me than the previous caller? Well, there will always be someone to trump the person before…

“Hello,” I said tiredly.

“You didn’t even look before you answered or you wouldn’t have answered,” Emmet said.

My heart stirred in my chest at the sound of his voice. It took me a moment before I was able to speak.

“Yeah, I didn’t look and I wouldn’t have answered,” I said honestly.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I didn’t know she was going to call you.”

“It’s okay,” I sighed. “I was about to go do something terrible and the phone call thwarted that.”

“What were you about to go do?” he asked. He sounded concerned and it sent waves of emotion rippling through my chest.

“I was about to go to the store and buy every bad movie I’ve ever wanted to see and fill my cart with junk food. I was going to order pizza or Chinese and in the morning I was going to go to Federal Donuts.”

It was quiet for a moment. I thought maybe he had hung up and I didn’t hear the beep, but then he spoke in a very grave tone.

“You need an intervention.”

I actually laughed a little. “Your wife intervened,” I pointed out.

“I’m still sorry about that,” he said sincerely.

“It’s not a big deal,” I lied.

“You’re lying,” he said softly.

“It was a shock,” I admitted, holding a palm to my forehead.

“Obviously, you’re not even going to Federal Donuts in the morning.”

“Maybe not that much of a shock,” I said hastily.

“I thought you were going to be in Tampa this weekend.”

“Are you stalking me? You seem to know a lot about what I’m doing.”

“Did you think I would just let you disappear into obscurity?” he asked, but before I could respond, he continued speaking. “My mom told me you were going to Jerry’s games.”

“Oh,” I said. “Of course she did. Well, I’m not going.”

“Why not?”

“Because he made me angry.”

“About what?”

I bit my lip and stared up at the ceiling. Did I really want to tell Emmet about my personal problems with Jerry? I often thought about him telling me that Jerry would never give anything up for me, and I didn’t want to confirm that for him. I didn’t want him to be right about that.

“I’d rather not rehash it with you. Are you working?”

“Yeah,” he said with a sigh.

“Don’t like it?”

“What’s to like about this place,” he muttered.

“Should have stayed with the family business,” I sang out softly.

We talked only about the law office Emmet was working for over the next half hour. During that time, I was able to forget about my pain and my heart beat normally and I was able to breathe. I got comfortable on the couch and had even closed my eyes as we spoke, but when that conversation died down and we fell into silence, my rapid heartbeat returned and I suddenly felt like there was someone sitting on my chest.

“I thought you would never speak to me again,” Emmet said quietly, breaking the silence.

“We share a family,” I said. “We would have spoken eventually.”

“I guess so,” he said doubtfully. “How long will it be before I speak to you again?”

“I don’t know,” I said weakly.

“I can’t go without talking to you again, Donya. I know we are literally living separate lives, but we are
not
separate. You know that, don’t you?”

How could I ever possibly forget it? I loved my husband and we shared a wonderful life, most of the time, but I wasn’t connected to him. I wasn’t bound to him in the way that I was bound to Emmet. That tether will be there forever.

“I do know that,” I whispered. “And that’s why I can’t be your friend.”

His sigh was so sad that it brought tears to my eyes.

“You still hate me,” he said in a small voice.

“No, no,” I said hurriedly. “I don’t hate you, Emmet.”

“Then say it,” he quietly commanded.

I was struck mute for a moment. I thought about Emmy and her predicament. I didn’t think I was capable of cheating, but I forgot about the strong pull Emmet had on me. Good decision making was imperative, even when in a cloud of emotion.

“I love you, Emmet,” I said hoarsely. “But we need to return to our lives now. You have your sweet wife at home and I have Jerry.”

He exhaled, like he had been holding his breath waiting for me to say those three words.

“I love you, too,” he said sadly. “Will I see you at the anniversary party?”

“I don’t know,” I answered honestly.

“Okay.” He was reluctant to hang up and I knew how that felt because I could have listened to his voice all day. As much distress as it brought me, it soothed a part of me that no one else could access, not even me.

“Bye, Emmet,” I said, fighting back tears.

“Bye, Donya.”

I wanted to lay there and feel miserable and zone in on that bereft feeling I felt, but this would be no good for me and no good for my marriage. I rolled off of the couch and hurried into my bedroom. I quickly put my shoes on and adjusted my hair before grabbing all of my luggage. I struggled my way to my car and threw everything into the trunk. A little under two hours later I was boarding my flight to Tampa. I felt like I had crossed a line that had been drawn in the dirt the moment I said “I Do.” Regardless of how I felt about Emmet, I needed to stay on the right side of that line. I had to keep my senses about me, and in order to do that, I needed to be with my husband.

A few days after we returned from Tampa, Jerry came home from practice with a gift for me…a gift that whined and let out little puppy barks, wearing a nametag that said Dusky. I gave him a sideward glance that said “You’ve got to be kidding me” even as I hugged and kissed the black lab.

Jerry gestured to something attached the bow that was tied around the puppy’s collar. It was a rolled up piece of paper, like a miniature scroll. Balancing the dog in one arm, I unraveled the piece of paper and read.

Dusky is the first addition to our family. We will make the second addition together.

“Jerry,” I grinned and blinked back tears. “Does this mean…”

“Yes, but,” he put his finger up in warning. “I can’t promise you when I’ll be ready, or if I’ll ever truly be ready, but someday we will try to have a baby, okay? But we have to talk about it first. No turkey basters and poking holes in the condoms.”

I threw my free arm around his neck and kissed him. No, we weren’t connected, but we were happy, and I wouldn’t jeopardize that, ever. I hoped down in Pensacola, Emmet had found his own happiness with his family, too.

Chapter Fifty

Eighteen months later, Jerry stared at me, not comprehending what I had just told him.

“What do you mean you’re pregnant?” he asked, his eyes narrowed in confusion.

“What kind of question is that?” I asked, irritated by his reaction. “I can’t make the statement ‘I’m pregnant’ any clearer than that.”

“But you’re on birth control,” he argued.

“Remember when I switched prescriptions because the first one was making me break out?”

“Not really.”

Of course he didn’t remember. It didn’t directly apply to him, at least not at that time.

“Well, I switched birth control pills and there was a small window of time when we had to be careful.”

“I pulled out,” he said and gave me a suspicious look that I didn’t appreciate.

“Did you learn anything in Sex Ed? Pulling out is not an effective form of birth control, Jerry.”

He looked around the room as his mind began to truly process what was happening. When he met my eyes again, his eyes were a bit chilly.

“We agreed to discuss this first,” he said.

I stared at him incredulously.

“I am sorry if my egg and your sperm didn’t sit us down over coffee and discuss the situation before they joined together,” I said.

“I’m not ready for this,” Jerry said, holding up his hands as if he was out of the equation. Like that was enough for him to step back and make it all my problem.

“Obviously,” I snapped. “I wish I could take full responsibility, but last I checked it takes one male and one female to make a human baby, so you better get your shit together.”

I started to walk out of the room, but Jerry blocked my path and put his hands on my shoulders.

“You’re not hearing me, princess,” he said in a hard tone. “I am not. Ready. For this. We have to take care of this.”

My rage and violent need to protect myself and my unborn child were immediate. I shoved him away from me and then with a cry of pure resentment, I balled my hand into a fist and connected it to his mouth. Jerry stumbled back, stunned. He touched his lip and when he saw the blood on his fingers, his eyes widened.

“I’m sorry,” he said as he stared at me in disbelief. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I panicked.”

He moved toward me, but I stepped back away from him.

“Don’t touch me,” I warned icily.

“Princess,” he said softly and held out his hand.

“Get out,” I said and pointed to the door.

“You’re kicking me out?” he asked. He looked at the door and then at me.

“Get out!” I screamed.

Dusky stood at my side, barking and growling at Jerry, as if to say “Didn’t you hear mommy? Get the hell out!”

He looked at me for a moment longer and then cursed in his native language as he stormed over to the closet by the door. He took out his coat but didn’t put it on. He grabbed his keys and opened the door. Cold winter air blew in and made me shiver. Jerry gave me one last look as if he expected me to change my mind, but I remained silent. He shook his head and muttered something I couldn’t hear before walking out, closing the door behind him.

I held my breath for a few seconds until I heard the distinct sound of his C+amaro starting.

“Fuck!” I burst and shook my hand. I examined it visually first, noting that it was already swelling and turning odd colors. I was able to open it and close it and flex my fingers, but not without a good dose of pain. I went into the kitchen and took an icepack out of the freezer. I wrapped it in a dishtowel and sat down on the couch while my hand iced. Dusky was entirely too big to sit on my lap, but he laid across my lap anyway.

I leaned back and tilted my head up towards the ceiling as I tried hopelessly to blink back my tears. I understood Jerry’s initial shocked reaction, I had expected that. I even thought it was possible that he would not immediately be happy out the situation, because he had been so adamant about not having a child before we planned to do so together, but I did not expect his cruel proclamation that we had to ‘take care of this’. What other women did with their bodies was their legal right and I didn’t judge, but terminating a pregnancy was not something that I was capable of doing and Jerry had to have known that. Even if he didn’t know it, he should have been ready and willing to sit down and have a discussion about our options instead of insisting on only one.

I wanted to call Emmy and tell her about the pregnancy and vent about how Jerry reacted, but I couldn’t, because my best friend had her own troubles, and I believed they were far bigger than mine. The love triangle she had been in disintegrated when Luke, who had reached his tipping point, broke up with her and moved away to Chicago to be with his family and to get away from Emmy. It was about three months later that Emmy learned that she was pregnant. In my opinion it was questionable who the father was, but Emmy seemed adamant that it was Luke, but she did not tell him. She carried on with her reckless relationship with her boss, Kyle, for another few months, but then something happened around the very beginning of the year. It was still unclear what exactly had transpired, but it had changed her -
irrevocably
changed her. Emmy was
broken
and I had no idea who or what gave the killing blow. One day, without even telling me, she picked up and left the state and went down to Louisiana.

I later found out that Kyle was in rehab for some unknown addiction, and when she caught wind that he was going to get out, she begged me to take her far away. I took her to the only place I could think of, I took her to Helene and Marcus in France. She stayed with them in their country cottage until she was probably way too pregnant to fly over seas, but she made the trip home anyway and gave birth to Lucas, a beautiful, blonde haired baby boy in Louisiana. When Lucas was five months old, he and Emmy flew to Chicago where she broke the news to Luke and told him he was a father. A week later she moved in with him. They weren’t together as a couple, but Luke wanted an equal share in his son’s life, and he was owed more than that really.

Whenever I spoke to Emmy, she was only a shell of the woman I used to know. I always pretended that she didn’t sound like a walking dead woman, and after each phone call, I would be on the verge of tears. I had no idea what had killed her spirit or how to help her, but calling her was out of the question. I didn’t want to further burden her with my problems, and a small part of me wondered if she even had the wherewithal to care.

I still couldn’t believe that Jerry suggested I terminate the pregnancy. With that reoccurring thought, Emmet’s words bounced around in my skull.

He’ll never give up anything for you.