The road to love (editing!!)

Chapter 15 - Some things are better left unsaid

“Mom,” I start, “is this the only reason why you don’t want me to date Dean?  Are you worried it will cause old memories to pop up?”

She laughs a short laugh.  “If only it was that easy, honey, then I would tell you to ignore a stupid old woman and live your life.”

“Then what?  What can be worse that cheating on dad?  Please, tell me!”

I see her go back to that time in her mind, as she finally continues the story.  “Your dad was able to come back that week and I was so happy to see him!  We stayed in bed for 2 days, just wanting to be together, to make up for all the time we missed.  Greg and I kept our contact to a minimum and I wowed then never to drink again.  About 3 weeks later I started feeling tired and nauseous.  I thought perhaps it was the after-effects of all the alcohol, but your dad made an appointment with a doctor anyway.”  She stops and stares at a spot on the wall.

“And?”  I urge her on, needing to hear the rest of the story.

She looks me dead in the eye and kills me with her next words:  “I found out from the doctor that I was about 3 weeks pregnant… and to this day I still don’t know which one of them is your father.” 

She starts sobbing her heart out again, while I fall back on my rear on the rug, in shock.

“Do you understand what I’m telling you, Jessica?  Dean could be your brother!  That’s why you can’t date him.”

Oh fuck.

I slowly get up from my seat on the rug, shaking from shock.  I have to get away from her, from what she just told me.  My body is refusing to accept her story as true and I can feel myself border on hysterics.  Dean, the man I love, the man of my dreams, may be my brother!  This is sick, twisted… these things don’t happen to ordinary people like me!

My mother reaches out to me, touching my arm, trying to calm me down.  “Jessie, honey, I’m so sorry!  I didn’t mean to hurt you like this.  I love you!  You just need to understand why you can’t keep seeing Dean.”

“Don’t.  Touch.  Me.”  I hiss at her, tears threatening to take over at any moment.  “How could you do that to Dad?  To me?!  You have no excuse, mom!”  I throw her hand off my arm.  “Did dad know?  Was he aware of your… indiscretion?”

She has the decency to flush crimson and not get angry at my question, while I was still fuming at her.  “Yes.  He knew.”    She loses her energy at those words and sits down. 

“When I found out I was pregnant, I went into such a bad depression that I stopped eating, talking… living.  He backed me into a corner one day and would not let me go until I told him what was going on with me.  I cried and begged, but he was so worried about me that I had to tell him.”  She looks at me.  “He was so quiet after I told him, then he turned around and walked out of the house, leaving me there.  He was gone for hours and I just sat on the ground right in the corner where he left me.  I was so sure I’d lost him that I didn’t want to go on living.”

I see the emotions crossing her face as she sat there remembering them – hurt, pain, loss…  Yet I can’t feel sorry for her.  I am still too wrapped up in my own pain.

“He came back at about 1 in the morning, picked me up from the floor where I fell asleep and tucked me into bed.  When I woke the next morning, he was lying next to me.  I just lay there, looking at him.  I loved him so much, that just looking at him, knowing that he was leaving me, slowly broke me inside.  But then he woke up and saw me looking at him with the pain in my eyes… and he smiled at me.  He wiped a tear from my cheek and told me he loves me.  He was angry at himself for leaving me for so long and he had decided that I was worth trying to save our marriage.”  She started crying again.  “He forgave me, Jes, that wonderful man who I hurt so much through one stupid mistake, forgave me and made me happy for the rest of my life.”

“And me, how did he feel about me?”  I ask.  My father was always such a great dad.  I simply cannot think that he secretly harbored resentment towards me.

She smiles through her tears.  “He loved you so much.  You were his girl.  There was never a question in his heart or mind that you were his.  You adored him from birth, how could that kind man ever reject you?”  She let out a sad sigh.  “It was his choice never to tell you.  He said it was done, you were his and we didn’t need to hurt you with this story.  I miss him so much!” 

My thoughts turn from my dad to Dean, the man I loved, the one I wanted to be with… but now couldn’t until we new for sure if we were family.  My heart broke again and suddenly my anger returned.

“You miss him, mother?  At least you had a ‘happily ever after’ with your love.  What about me?  You just took my one chance of happiness with a perfect guy away from me, all because you couldn’t stop at one glass and grabbed the first person to come around because you were lonely and drunk.”  I started crying too, the shock finally catching up to me when my mother tried to reach out to comfort me.  “Don’t touch me, don’t speak to me, don’t… anything!”

I ran out of the room, leaving my mother in tears.  I can’t believe this just happened.  What am I going to do?  I grab my bag on my way and head out the door, ignoring my mother’s pleas for me to come back. 

I get into my car and just start driving, heading nowhere in particular, just needing to get away from my mother.  I realize that I’m still shaking violently when I try to adjust my rearview mirror.  I must still be in shock.  The next minute I feel the hysterics bubble up inside me again and overflow in the form of streams of tears running down my face. 

Stopping the car to try to calm down a bit, I realize I had subconsciously driven myself close to Sharon’s place.  I start the car again and drive the short distance further that would get me to my friend.  Grabbing my bag and a jacket I always keep in the car, I get out, still stiffing loudly, and knock on her door while hoping she was still awake

Opening the door in her pajamas, a shocked Sharon took one look at me, gathered me in her arms and dragged me inside her warm little flat.  She asked me no questions. 

That’s what best friends do - they just let you cry until you are ready to talk.