The Truths Behind the Life of Maeve Sun Lively

98

I go over to the room that's Isabella's, my footsteps slowing as I reach her crib. She was asleep, her breathing calm and body now chubbier as a healthy baby should look.

I felt my eyes tearing up at the sight of her and the acknowledgment of what I was about to do.

Stop it, you can't back out now. It's now or never. Don't be so weak, you're stronger and better than this.

I sniffed up the salting waters in my throat, nodding at the voice in my head, and picked her up. Her face started to crumble, signaling that a cry was coming.

"Shh, shh," I put my finger in her mouth, which would always soothe and occupy her as she sipped it like it was a bottle. And it does, as Isabella starts to fall into a deep, taunting, sleep again. Everyone can never get her to stop crying once she has one of her incredibly big cries that lasts hours, but once she's given to me, she quiets and becomes as calm as a gentle wave on the ocean.

I keep her in her pajamas, since it would be more comfortable for the drive. But even that, I wrap as many layers of quilts as I can so she wouldn't catch a cold.

Before leaving, holding a safely coiled Isabella in my arms, I visit back to the room Klarise is sleeping in. Cameron had gotten her medications that'll keep her doozy and asleep, just enough time for me to leave and come back without her knowing. Plus, the last time we'd had Dr. Fernandez over, she suggested the same drug prescriptions for the cramps and harsh pains Klarise was having. Though she hadn't taken it, insisting she was perfectly fine, I slipped the stuff into her food last night. It was hard watching her hold it up when she needed rest.

There were a thousand thoughts that night as I went through each motion. Two parts of me pulling and tearing towards different directions, like a tug of war. And the darker part of that rope, of me, had won out.

I bent low to Klarise, kissing her on the cheek as I tried to contain the tears that were fighting to come out. "I'm sorry."

She stirs, which freezes me even though I knew she was on heavy stuff and wouldn't possibly stop me. And of course she didn't wake, only turning around as her breathing remained quiet and stable.

I write a hasty note about leaving for a last minute trip for a producer I'm meeting, sticking the paper next to the lamp we had. Just in case, I thought, if I don't come back on time. But that was stupid of me, because soon she'd find that Isabella was gone. Soon, if I wasn't back, she'd know. My lover wasn't stupid.

I hug Isabella closer to me, her powdery smell pulling the last parts of me that denied this. But somehow, that still wasn't enough. It seemed like nothing was enough to stop this dark part of me, not knowing that she was on the path of ruining everything instead of making it better.

Isabella twists in my arms, making a slight noise as if sensing my shallow thoughts.

"Don't worry, we'll find you a new home." I whispered as I held her for a minute, looking outside at the living room window, where the expected black BMW was parked in my driveway.

Bridget sits in it, waiting patiently for me.

BACK TO A FEW days before all of that, right after the nightmare.

I started up drinking again, which I hadn't done since finding out Klarise was pregnant. And I had thought I was stabler after Isabella was born, now that there was someone who needed my care in some ways that I may not even know.

But I quickly went back to my old self after waking up with cold sweat that morning.

And after the alcohol drained out of my system, I found myself sitting on the floor and watching Isabella as Cameron held her in his arms while she slept. I had found it so sweet before, but suddenly, all I could think about was how boring it all was. All babies did was sleep and poop, that's all Isabella did, but even so she has somehow casted a spell on us and we're intent on whatever she's up to. Sleep and poop. Sleep and poop. And now that spell has broken for me, setting all the flaws to my vision.