Echo(9)

“I’m so sorry,” she says on a shaky breath, and I shift my eyes to look at her baby. When he becomes restless in her arms, she sets him down on the floor and he focuses on the stuffed frog he’s holding.

Walking closer, I kneel down in front of him and our eyes lock. I take this moment to observe his features, and beneath the pudge, I see Bennett. I never cared enough to ever look at this child in the past, but I should’ve because it’s glaringly obvious. He’s right there within this little boy, and my stomach knots. My teeth grind when I feel the heat in my blood surging with a need to slam my fist into this baby’s face. My palms are actually tingling with desire, begging my fingers to ball so that I can hammer my knuckles into Bennett’s legacy. I hate this child because he is the one thing that carries the life of the man that destroyed mine.

Alexander reaches up with a smile and touches my cheek, and I have to swallow back the sour bile of loathing. It takes great strength to pull back and not knock this little shit across the room.

When I stand, Jacqueline breathes in shame, “Nina . . . I’m sorry.”

“Why?” I ask with no influx of emotion.

“For hurting you.”

But I’m not hurt, so I simply respond, “Everybody has secrets, everybody lies, and everybody cheats their way through life for self-fulfillment. We wouldn’t do it if we felt sorry; we do it because it’s our human right to seek happiness.”

My words take her by surprise, and when I ask, “Did f*cking my husband make you happy?” she takes a deep breath as more tears fall and answers, “Yes.”

I nod my head when she adds, “But it didn’t make me happy to know I was hurting you.”

“People are bound to get hurt in our journey for happiness. If f*cking my husband made you happy, don’t ever be sorry for that.”

She tilts her head with a look of pity.

“Don’t worry about me,” I continue. “You didn’t break me. You can’t break something that was already broken.”

“He never loved me,” she confesses abruptly. “He never wanted me. I took advantage of him when he had too much to drink. I knew it made him sick to look at me after what happened, but he kept up his pleasantries for the sake of Alex. He merely put up with me because he refused to turn his back on his son.”

Jacqueline grows more upset with each word while I stand and listen. Her voice cracks in heartbreak when she adds, “But it was always you he loved.”

Releasing a heavy sigh, I give her a weak smile, shaking my head, and saying, “I guess in the end, it doesn’t really matter. All we are left with is ourselves.”

She wipes her cheeks and takes a couple deep breaths in an attempt to compose herself before reaching down to pick up Alexander, and then asks, “So what now?”

“That’s a good question, one that I need to find the answer to, but I won’t find it here.”

“You’re leaving?”

“Yes,” I say with a nod.

“Where to? For how long?”

“I don’t know,” I tell her, not wanting her to know, and when I give her son one last look-over, I turn my attention back to her. “You aren’t the only one with secrets. We all have them.”

She gives me a slight nod and starts moving towards the door. I follow and say goodbye to the woman who blindly found herself tangled in my game of lies. But she’ll go back to her husband, Richard, who believes that baby is his, and continue to live her life while I get myself ready to go see what could have been mine. If only . . .

“I’m sorry, Elizabeth.”

My heart catches at the sound of his voice as I close the door, and when I turn to look over my shoulder, I see his face, and suddenly I’m soothed. He stands right by me, dark hair, sad eyes.

“Why?”

Pike hangs his head, shoving his hands into his pants pockets, and I can see the tension in his muscles under his ink-covered arms.

“I took that away from you,” he says as he raises his eyes to me.

“Took what?”

“What she has. What you deserved.”

“Maybe you did me a favor,” I respond. “I would’ve been a shitty mom anyway.”

Shaking his head, he counters, “No. You would have been a great mom.” Pike takes in an uneven breath, and I can feel his regret with each word, “I’m sorry I took that away from you.”