Crestfallen [COMPLETED]

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ - 50

Alex

I'm sitting in my cabin at the hospital.
It's been a month since Joanna left me and my heart bleeds for infinite time at the reminder.

The weight of her wedding ring in my breast pocket, pressing against my chest, is too harsh a reality.

I've given up hopes of her returning, though the pain is still very raw. Like a relentless parasite, never vowing to go.
The wait for our divorce proceedings to begin feels like an impending doom, a finality that I can't escape.

There's nothing to look forward to except the end of the best thing that ever happened to me. The loss of my most favourite person in the world. The end of a relationship that used to be my home.

But just then I see her standing outside my door, and my heart leaps in my chest.

My gaze falls on her wild hair,that frames her beautiful face just as it always has.

Jo.

"Can I come in?" she asks, her voice slightly hesitant.

"Yes," I manage to say, walking towards her as I usher her inside.

"Sit down," I offer, my voice calm despite the chaos of emotions within me.

"I need to tell you something," she says, her tone serious and resolute.

"Okay," I reply.

"But first sit down, Jo. I..." I start to say, but she interrupts.

"I am pregnant," the words fall from her lips, and I feel like the world stops spinning. My heart thuds heavily against my chest.
Blood travels in my ears.

"What... what did you say?" I stutter, struggling to process her words.

"I am pregnant," she repeats, her gaze steady and determined.

"It's yours, the baby," she continues.

I'm left speechless, my mouth hanging open as I try to comprehend what she's just told me. She's pregnant.

Jo gulps down, knotting her hands together.

"You can get a paternity test, whenever you want to, just ask me. If you need proof that it really is yours . . . .," she gulps back, averting her gaze from mine.

I know each word is killing something in her.
I can read the sadness through her eyes.

Yes, I still can and I believe I will never truly stop.

"You know, if it is . . .,"

"I trust you," I interrupt her from saying further.

Her eyes widen in surprise at my words. I step closer, closing the gap between us. But still not touching her.

"I trust you, Jo," I repeat, looking directly into her eyes, my gaze turning soft.

"I trust that this is our baby," I say, my hand landing naturally on her belly.

A rush of emotions, an inexplicable surge courses through me at the realization.

That it really exists.

My baby, our baby.

I pull back my hand unwillingly, still wanting to touch Jo, and my unborn child.

Jo's eyes well, as if she knows how I feel, in that very moment. The need to forget everything else, and just this truth sink in.

She pulls away slightly. "I just wanted to know if you want this child," she says, her voice vulnerable.

"If you want to raise her together, or we can go ahead with the di..." she trails off, leaving the unspoken word hanging in the air.

"I don't want to divorce you," I say firmly, my voice carrying a weight of determination.

"I can never do that, Jo."

"Then we stay together in this marriage for the baby," she suggests, her words tentative.

"And not for us?" I ask, seeking clarity, my voice laced with hope and fear.

She looks at me with a gaze full of longing, and my heart skips a beat.

"I want to stay with you, Alex. Not just for the baby, but for me. It would kill me to stay away from you. Because . . . I love you so much," she confesses, her voice trembling with raw emotion.

"I. Love. You. So. Damn. Much," she drawls looking at me, just the way she used to.

The way I thought she had stopped.

"But it's not about me, Alex. You don't deserve to stay, when you don't want to, this is unfair to you," she says, her words heavy with sorrow.

"Who says I don't want to stay in this marriage with you?" I ask pointedly, closing the remaining distance between us. I can't hold myself back any longer. I need to touch her.

My hand circles her waist, our natural state, the place I've always felt at home.

"I am insecure about the betrayal, yes, I might be for the rest of my life. But I brought you back into our home, in my life, Jo, because I loved you," I admit, the weight of my emotions clear in my voice.

A tear rolls down her cheek,
and I gently wipe it away with my finger.

"I loved you. I still love you. And probably, I  will love you , my entire life, every single day." I tell her, my voice steady.

My eyes lock with hers as we stare at each other endlessly, the rest of the world crashing and fading.

"I saw it all, Jo. I saw you trying. I saw you want me back. I . . . I found your letter" I say, my heart pouring out.

She looks down, more tears falling from her eyes.

"I shouldn't have hurled those accusations. I shouldn't have hurt you. I am sorry, please, please forgive me," I plead, my voice thick with regret.

She looks at me, her eyes moist, and I stare back, waiting for her to say something. To say the most awaited words. To end this back and forth, push and pull.

But the silence in the room thickens.

"Do you believe in fate?" she asks, echoing a question she posed years ago, on one of the best nights of my life.

"Only if it leads you to me," I reply, echoing the response I gave her then.

A longing smile etches on my lips at that memory of our first time, of her, lying beside me, bare, serene.

And all mine.

"Does it? " I ask, needing her to voice it, what I think she would.

"Yes, it wanted me to find you, despite everything. For us," she answers, her voice filled with hope.

She places my hand on her belly, over our unborn child.

"For her," she whipsers, as the most beautiful smile ever, carves her face.

Tears stream down my face.
Tears of joy. Marking the end of all the ache, misery. Of the dark days, in the past.

There's still a lot we need to resolve. There's still a lot, that holds me back. Gnaws at me.
Scares me.

But I pull her closer to me, pressing my forehead against hers, my wife, my home, my Jo.
breathing in this moment. That only belongs to us.