The following weeks were a blur of technical restraining orders and business requiem in which both Daniel and I were engorged into the world of mini-interviews. Of course Daniel made sure it was those types of interviews with no more than two questions so there's not much of an interest there.
Two weeks following the hideous events of New Year's Eve, Daniel came back to me with the news that he's filed for a restraining order both for me and his company against Leo. To avoid any public interest it was done under wraps. Of course I was happy yet, now and again I find myself thinking about what I would do if one day Leo came trudging down my street and into my home. Surely by now the only thing left for him to do is kill me — he almost did to begin with. So yes, the restraining order did provide a peace of mind and Daniel knew that, but she also understood that no amount of signed legal documents can take away what had happened. Sometimes it stirs in the back of my mind, asking for trouble. Other times, Daniel kissed them away.
When I told him I'd seen Mallory with Leo it didn't surprise him at all. He explained thoroughly that Mallory could hold a grudge like a gator would its prey. Her big bad claws gripped tightly. When he suggested he speak with her I told him no. Partly because I don't want him anywhere close to her and partly because I know she wouldn't do anything about it. Nor would she be punished for it — his father never is.
Of course, Tobias. One of the many thoughts that surfed in the waves of my overthinking. As fast as time went weeks into our public appearance, Tobias' haunting words remained contained. Everything he said about me though was true. Three weeks after the fact, I still find myself feeling guilty. Tobias' gave me a warning and Daniel gave me a choice to leave. I chose not to heed any of the men's words but now it becomes that plaguing thought in the back of my mind. Tobias made it clear he's got some plans for me and I could easily be taken away from that if I had just said that I didn't love Daniel and walked away. But who would I be lying to really? Still, I kept it to myself. I didn't want Daniel coming up with another idea to try and 'save' me as he's already done too many times.
The final week of January, as I'm enjoying bathing in the winter sun while I finish my breakfast routine my eyes flickered to my calendar. I stared at the bright pink heart on today's date and I groaned. It's that time of the month. That time when my birth control pills are running low and I need to go for a feminine check up. I stood there, sipping coffee wondering if I should go or not. It's been a hectic few weeks in my life that I can't even remember the last time I just sat down and took care of myself. It's all been about public interest, Daniel, the Hearst Enterprises...ugh. What have I become?
I put my mug down on the counter, the lingering smell of bacon and eggs mixing with the warm coffee. Perhaps going to my bi-monthly checks would provide some kind of normality in my already very abnormal life. Maybe I could even go out for a spa treatment today — just for myself.
"Oh crap," I exclaimed, my eyes scanning down the calendar again.
First of February — Daniel's birthday.
I sighed, my hands on my hips while I thought of how to structure my day. Somehow the mere chaos of random errands made my heart jump. The idea of stressing out about simple things like gifts, groceries and spa days instead of press conferences and crazy exes didn't sound too bad now. I guess you never really know how good you had it.
So, before I changed my mind and ended up sitting on the couch to rewatch friends. I took a shower, got ready and got into my car to ride to the hospital.
***
Clean white walls with the occasional posters of female anatomy and brochures of healthcare tips were my view while I sat here, dangling my legs from the bed. Here in the very uncomfortable hospital gown, I waited. I never really got used to the discomforts of ob-gyn appointments. I know, I know they are meant to be invasive and uncomfortable but still — a woman can feel uncomfortable.
I sighed growing tired of the long wait so I checked my phone. Scrolling through twitter. One of the most war ridden places on the internet. Everyone just seems so aggressive all the time. Though I have to admit, seeing some of the memes made of me and Daniel are quite hilarious. Some of them had grown fond of our relationship and some are still on the mend and some are well...like I said...war-ridden. I suppose if you find entertainment on it, you won't mind.
"Miss Garcia, I'm afraid I won't be able to prescribe you with your birth control," the red headed doctor walked in, her irish accent prominent. I furrowed my brows and only looked at her as she sat down.
"Excuse me?" I laughed, thinking it was some kind of cruel joke on me. If that's the case then she is breaking bed-side manner 101.
"Congratulations," she smiled. "You're pregnant."
"No," I whispered. It was my first response.
How do you respond?
I gulped. My mind went into a daze and my heart felt as though it had stopped beating. I can feel a pounding in my head and an ache in my stomach. There is no absolute comprehension that's going on in my mind right now. All I can see are lights too bright and the doctor with her concerned eyes. Frozen in time, I just sat there. It's like my soul left my body. I don't know what I feel or think or hear. If this is real or some sick joke.
"That's...that's impossible I've been on the pill—" I thought out loud knowing full well that it wasn't a hundred percent effective. Pregnancy 101. I still tried to believe it though. I wanted to believe it because this...this wasn't supposed to happen.
"Should I call someone for you—"
"No," I quivered, feeling the tears pooling in my eyes. I should be happy, I've always wanted a family but just — not right now. This isn't how it's supposed to happen. Not with everything else that's going on. It can't. It can't be happening.
"I'm okay...I — thank you doc," I tell her and without another word, I leave the room.
With every heavy step that I took out of that damned hospital, I started to realise that my body is just not my own anymore. Someone else is growing here, they found a home with me. How do I even start to take care of it? Who do I tell? Do I come running to Daniel about this or do I leave it to myself until I figure out what to do with it?
Millions of questions flooded my head, from the moment I walked out those doors to my car where I broke down crying. How am I supposed to take care of a child? What, with everything else that's going on around us? I can't protect it — I can't even protect myself.
My heart held heavy on my chest and I tried to hold everything there. I crumbled, sitting in my car in the parking lot while little wisps of snow began to fall outside. My heaving breaths filled the cold car and my shaking hands tried to grip hard on the steering wheel. Should I even be crying? Or was this some petty reaction for something so beautiful? I tried to breathe, looking at my phone wondering who I would call but I didn't want to call anyone. Right now I don't want to let anybody know. This is just for me — for now.
"Alright Jeanette, come on, get it together," I tell myself looking at my tear stained cheeks and reddened eyes through the rear-view mirror. Wiping my tears and fixing my hair, I started the ignition and sighed. "It's not the end of the world, you can deal." I whisper to myself. "You can deal." I say again just to immortalise the thought.
I have to. This baby is happening and I can't even stand the thought of letting it go. It might not be an ideal time but I've always dreamed of this.
I've always dreamed of having a small family. You know, having that life in the suburbs, big backyards and whatnot. The typical family life you see in the movies. I have wanted something like that and what if this is my only shot of having that? I can't throw that away.
So there, with that thought in my mind I drove away. All these feelings in me continued to drown me but I kept myself afloat. I steadied myself, cleared my mind. Perhaps when this shock dissipates I would be okay enough to tell someone. I need to tell someone somehow. But for now, my spiral continues — even if it begins to slow down. I just sat there and turned the radio on, trying to get my head out of the gutter and accept that this is happening. I drove a few rounds away from my house afraid that once I got to it everything would come crashing back once again — like a hurricane. Through those rounds I tried to psych myself up. Telling myself that this is nothing more than a social problem I can definitely solve. Telling myself that I'll be alright like I always do when my own mother couldn't even comfort me on the brink of death.
Oh God, what if I turn out to be just like my mother?
I'd be terrible to this child! What the hell am I doing?
I stopped my car right outside my place before I could let any more appalling thoughts doses my brain with insanity. I collected myself, not letting a single tear show as I stepped out. A good act perhaps — even if I feel like crooked fault lines ready to break inside.
Walking into the house, door unlocked, my head snaps right up to attention. An unfamiliar smell of lavender and sandalwood filling up the place. It's as if it left chemtrails from the door to the rest of the house.
I never used lavender and sandalwood as fragrances. Frozen in place for a moment, I listened for any movement but heard nothing. So, to add to my already growing piles of bad decisions, I walked in. I picked up the first thing I could get my hands on — a small vase — and made my way into the house. Slowly, I looked through the living room but when I found nothing there, I looked into the kitchen.
To my utter shock and dismay, I find a familiar face sitting there with a glass of wine in her hands. Her long black swept hair running down her shoulders over her brisk white dress. Jewelry clad skin with a very obvious hint of makeup. She boldly smiles like that of a villainous queen.
"Rosaline," I grit my teeth, slamming the vase on the island that I was surprised that it didn't break.
So, I'm just going to continue having a bad day huh?
"What, we get into a legal feud and suddenly I lose the title of mother?" She laughed. I'd forgotten how her tight voice had always intimidated me — I guess it's lost its touch.
"More like you trying to own everything I do?" I tell her and she stands, feigning a pout.
She comes to me, holding me down like I'm still a child. Scanning me like a specimen she's just here to watch. She hasn't changed even a bit. For almost two years I haven't seen her and I am still surprised that she is still the same old person — the same woman who had tried to kill me. Why am I still surprised?
"You gained a little wait honey," she says and I still notice her thick Filipino accent on her tongue. I clenched my jaw and I shook her hands away from me. Being touched by her is like being in the hands of Satan himself.
"What the hell are you doing here Rosaline?" I spat, grabbing my own glass and pouring myself a drink. The drink that she stole from my own fridge — walking around like she owned the place. Unfortunately for her, this is all my money's worth.
The moment I took a sip of the wine I realised what I had done and turned around before I spat it real quick. I can't be drinking.
"Something wrong?" I heard Rosaline ask and anger surges through me. The kind that burns in my veins like fire. Why? Out of all the time in the world, why would she come here, barge into my place without so much as a hello and suddenly act all motherly? Granted, this is as motherly as she gets.
"Wine's gone bad," I say. "Probably why you liked it so much."
"Watch your tongue Jean," she threatened and I laughed.
"My years of fearing you are long gone. So either you tell me what the hell you're doing here or you go." My voice was laced with venom as those words slipped through. She stared at me, her big brown eyes were almost crazed but she must have caught herself.
"I saw you on the TV with that cute, rich man. What was his name?" She paused, taking a seat on one of the stools, almost mocking me. "Oh yes, Daniel Hearst."
I laughed, of course that's why she's here. I've been waiting for this. The moment that she proves to me one more time why she is such a terrible, terrible mother. The moment when she proves to me that it wasn't my fault my childhood was filled with memories of grief, pain and suffering. What a mother she is.
"Are you here to ask him for money too?" I snapped back.
"Actually no, not exactly." She says, running her finger on the rim of her glass. Her nails were painted burgundy. "I am here to offer you absolution of the lawsuit,"
"Really, huh? How kind." My sarcasm is beyond me but I couldn't help it. I can feel every square inch of my body filling up with anger.
"If you can convince this Daniel of yours to pay up, I'd dissolve the lawsuit. Just like that." She snapped her fingers. I didn't even notice that I was biting my tongue until it had started to hurt.
I looked at her, trying to see if through her cold cold heart, there is an ounce of shamelessness or even regard for her own daughter. At every point that I see her, I find myself still looking for a mother. The kind that would change her mind, sacrifice everything just to provide for her daughter. I still hope that maybe, just maybe one of these days her cold heart would thaw and end this feud between us. The one where not only the both of us are affected, but the rest of the family are. Because even through all of this hate and vengeance, underneath it all, I am just a daughter wanting her mother. I never grew up with one and I guess I just want that motherly gaze. The kind where I could come up to her, ask for help and she would.
But as always, there is absolutely nothing in her eyes. Nothing at all.
"Get the fuck out of my house," I say through tightly gritted teeth. "I am not like you and I am not going to ask him for money like you would so get. Out."
She slowly rises from her seat and around the island she goes, back to standing right in front of me. She pinches my chin and lifts it up but I froze and just let her.
"See, now, that's where you're wrong." She says with a menacing smile. "You are just exactly like me."
With those haunted words, she picks up her black purse and starts to make her way out.
"Suit yourself, this is just about to get a whole lot worse." She trails before slamming the door behind her.
There, on my kitchen floor, I fell to my knees.
***
A/n: last chapter coming tomorrow. It was so nice to work on this book, I loved every bit of it.