A few opening notes:
1) This is a prequel story. Set way before Beneath the Twilight/The Gift of Misfortune.
2) Originally meant as a one-shot, the chapters of this story will be short. Much shorter than my normal chapters.
3) As mentioned in (1), this is a prequel story, so there will be very little of the Cullens in it. I know that's what we all come to see, but this little background piece has been brewing for awhile now, and won't leave me alone.
4) For those who are familiar with my stories, it involves Jack, so it's gotta be rated 'M'. Each chapter that I consider particularly cringe-worthy, I'll place a nice little ImPORTANT NOTE at the top of.
5) For those who are not familiar with my stories, I highly suggest going back and starting at 'Beneath the Twilight - Re-Vamped'. (Re-Vamped is the edited version) It's highly informative, and provides a good bit of reading fun as you progress through the stories. :)
I think that's all of them.
Just in case there's more of the Cullens than I currently plan, here's a nice, big:
DiSCLAIMER! I don't own anything you recognize as SM's handy-work. Majority of the characters you'll see in this story do belong to me and most, I do want to slap unconscious in a fit of rage, but the Cullens do not belong to me in any way.
Yada, blah, blah, yada, yada, blah.
Now onto the good stuff. Here we go.
Chapter One
I never knew a small, harmless plastic stick could ever make someone feel so scared.
I never expected the fear, the heart-stopping sight of two little lines on said stick to make everything change so quickly. I felt oddly like the floor had just dropped out from under me. A sick sort of dizzying feeling, that made me suspect the world had stopped turning.
Biting my fingernail, I reached out to it. Carefully, as if it would bite me if I moved too quickly. I shook, literally trembled as I looked it over. How could this have happened? We were so careful. We were always so careful.
I wasn't stupid. I liked to consider myself far from it, but I'd been denying this whole time the fact that it could even be a possibility. Most happily married women would be hopeful, begging for this sort of outcome.
Me? I was the opposite. I did everything I possibly could to avoid this from happening. So how on Earth was this happening now?
"Shit." I whispered to myself, suddenly remembering as my eyes closed in what nearly felt like despair, "My birthday." And that little party. We'd both had one too many glasses of wine, and threw our caution to the wind. Happy birthday to me. Twenty-one, and now this.
Sighing heavily, I lightly tapped my forehead against the wall.
I wasn't worried because I thought Chris, my husband, would be disappointed or angry. He would be overjoyed. This was something he'd wanted for awhile now, to start our little family. After being married for a little over two years, and only moving into this three bedroom house just six months prior, he was more than ready for a family. Despite our age.
Chris was a very loving man. I was very lucky the moment I found him. He was the kind of guy that people flocked to. Always so positive, and he never failed to give someone a compliment. Almost never in a bad mood.
I knew without a single doubt in my mind that he would be a wonderful father. Unlike me, Chris had grown up in a very wonderful family. Being the middle child never bothered Chris, or so he said.
Chris' father was a very warm person as well, who'd raised his three sons all on his own after his wife's unfortunate passing when Chris was just a kid. Chris' father had never remarried, but that didn't stop him from teaching his sons to respect women. That was one of the things I loved most about him.
It was me I was worried about.
I was never one to truly consider being gentle. I was never afraid to speak my mind, and if it came down to it, I'd take the shine right off someone's teeth. People were drawn to me too, but it wasn't for my sparkling personality. They were drawn to me in another way.
I wasn't bad looking myself, and I'd always had to fight to protect myself. My line of work didn't particularly promise shelter from those that felt they had to open their mouth, or let their hand wander where it shouldn't.
I used to be a waitress at a small cafe in a town nearby, and had been for a few years when I met Chris at eighteen. Just trying to get by. Toughening when I had to, because my soft appearance didn't offer me much protection against those regulars, and an occasional trucker every so often. I was considered small. I was pretty in a very soft, fragile sort of way.
I'd never wanted kids, and bringing myself back to the present, the two small lines on the stick I held in my hand worried me. Whether or not I wanted children, it was happening.
I was worried because I honestly had no idea how on Earth I would ever be a good mother. My family wasn't worth a hill of beans, and hadn't grown up in a particularly loving environment. My father was worthless, but my mother tried. She tried to keep my brother and I out of it, but there was only so much she could do for us.
My older brother had his own family to worry about. One niece and a nephew I'd never met. His wife didn't like me very much, which led to very little contact with my brother.
Chris and I had agreed to wait for a few years, to give me time to come to terms with the idea of having children. Little ones of my own. Well, my time was suddenly up. Thanks entirely to having a sip too much, and letting that get the better of my head.
The thought of having a little baby looking up at me in nine months was enough to make my nervousness restart the usual morning throw-up. Sleepless nights, millions of diapers. Crying all night, the fear of never knowing.
The worry I instantly had over her the second I knew she was in there.
It was a feeling I'd had all week, but something I'd denied until I couldn't anymore. I gave in this morning, and headed for the general store. It wasn't a very long trip into town. Walking wasn't something I was allergic to. I liked to walk, and take in the beautiful scenery around me. I'd always loved Washington, with it's lush green life every which way you looked.
I pondered all day how I was going to tell Chris when he got home from work. Pacing, and nibbling on some crackers. Oh god, there really wasn't any good way to tell him. I left the stick in the bathroom, stepping back into the bedroom.
There was so much around the house that needed done. The small pile of dishes from the night before really needed cleaning, but they would wait. The floor needed vacuumed, but that would wait. I hadn't even thought about dinner that night, but that would wait. The possibilities wouldn't wait. The tears, the worry. The fear wouldn't wait.
I sat down on the bed, and I started to cry. I was so afraid. Suddenly so fear stricken, I actually considered calling Chris at work. Something I'd never done. I just didn't want to be alone, but I knew it would wait. We needed all the time he had at work. He worked so hard to make ends meet, just so I wouldn't have to work at the cafe anymore. He relentlessly provided for me, and I worried about what this would do to his job.
I began questioning every decision I ever made. Every move I made that could potentially be bad. Hardly without knowing, I went over everything I did in my life, wondering if it could potentially harm her now.
I paced again as he came through the door, sighing and chuckling a little as he did so. I made my way out of the bedroom where I'd been wearing a hole in the carpet, unsure. Hesitant.
"That rain never lets up, does it?" Chris shook his head, hanging his jacket up, "Hi, baby." He stepped in, kissing me lightly before heading passed me toward the bedroom. Where I'd just passed hours in a calm sort of panic.
"Uh.." I mumbled, "Chris, there's something I have to tell you." I turned slowly, almost numbly, and followed him.
"Same here." He grinned at me, and I couldn't help laughing a little. He was always so cute when he smiled like that, "You might not like it, but I promise it's a good thing."
"Uhm.." I sighed, "You first."
"Okay." He said, laughing a little, "Well, you know how I've been asking for extra time at work?" I nodded a little, "Well, they finally gave in. I now work Fridays and Saturdays, because Paul quit. I'm taking his hours." Well, that's the extra income we're going to need.
"That's great, Chris." I smiled a little, "Really."
"Isn't it?" He chuckled as he sat down on the side of the bed, "I know that just means I'll be away more often, but really. We could use it."
"More than you know." I mumbled, biting my nail again. Seeing the worried look on my face, he paused in his quest to remove his boot, reading my expression like an open book.
"Is something wrong?" He asked, "Were you still sick this morning?"
"That's.." I sighed, "Sort of what I wanted to tell you."
He sighed as well, "It's food poisoning, isn't it? That's it. We're never eating at that taco place again." He shook his head, turning, "I'm telling you, we should sue. Any place that makes someone that sick shouldn't be allowed to sell food."
"Chris.." I mumbled, but he continued.
"And it wasn't even that good." He said incredulously, "Seriously."
"Christopher.." I mumbled again.
"My boot would taste better." He shook his head again, "I'll make calls in the mor-"
"I'm pregnant." I blurted, and he suddenly shut up. I couldn't help laughing a little at the look on his face as he finished his word breathlessly.
"-Ning.."
If you've ever seen a deer caught in the beams of a car's headlights, you'd know how he looked right then. Frozen, speechless. I don't think I even saw him breathe. In a way, it honestly looked like I'd hit him. I wondered briefly if that was the way I'd looked after just finding out.
Just as I'd figured, he wasn't angry. Not in the least. He was shocked, for sure, but he wasn't upset. He was just having a hard time believing what I said.
"What?" He asked, "A uh.. You're.. Y-You're, what?"
"Pregnant." I repeated, nodding. Though I was sure he'd heard me the first time.
"Oh." He muttered, "That's what I thought you said." His voice was so quiet, I had trouble hearing him. It took him a minute. He was obviously going over the days in his head, same as I did. I stepped over, crawling onto the bed, and kneeling behind him. Wrapping my arms around his shoulders, I leaned over and kissed his cheek. I sighed, resting my chin on his shoulder.
"H-How..?"
"My birthday." I murmured in response, "Remember? Remember when you told me, 'Oh, don't worry. Just this once won't hurt.'"
He laughed a little, turning his head and looking at me, "Honestly, no." We both laughed at that one. We both knew he did, but I figured I'd play along.
"Well.." I said, "That 'just once won't hurt' will really hurt in nine months, Chris."
That seemed to do it, making him turn, and take me in his arms. Laughing along with me as he laid us down onto our side, cuddling me to him. Kissing me softly, I couldn't help smiling.
He was always so gentle with me, but I saw the difference in his eyes the moment I told him that we had become three. The soft, easy way he held me now was so different somehow than the usual way he held me to him.
Looking into my eyes, he reached up and softly smoothed my hair from my cheek, like he somehow admired me for this life-changing accident. Of course, I'd never mention that 'A' word out loud, but that's essentially what this was. This was a 'not meant to happen for a long, long time' sort of situation.
He pressed a lingering kiss to my forehead.
"Chris, I'm so worried." I admitted, "What if it's too soon?" I tucked my head under his chin with a sigh. Loving the way just him holding me comforted me. I knew I could express my worries to him without him getting upset with me. This was one worry he understood. He knew why I worried so much, what with the way I was raised.
"It's too soon." I repeated, "We're just kids ourselves."
"It's not too soon, Gina." He told me comfortingly, "Just imagine. Picture that little baby girl looking up at you. She'll be.." He sighed, hugging me closer, "So beautiful. Just like her mama."
"Oh, it's a girl?" I asked, laughing, "Good to know."
"It's a girl." He said positively, "You'll see." He reached up, softly cupping my cheek, "She's going to be beautiful, and she's loved. So much already." Somehow, his confidence helped ease my own nerves. He seemed so sure, so completely calm about this. It was true, I'd also been considering the baby a girl the entire time I knew about her in there.
"I know you'll be a wonderful mother." He told me, "I know it. I've known it from the moment I fell in love with you. You've got no reason to worry. You know why? Because she'll have you, and she'll have me, and nothing in the world will ever change that. So what if we're young? That just means we'll get to have more before we're old and fat."
I had to laugh, "Chris, let's just get through this one first."
The first ultrasound, of her just the size of a bean, really made it feel so real. Like something more than a dream. Like the forceful slap of reality, but it didn't hurt. Seeing the little baby we'd made, though accidental but definitely meant to be, made accepting this so much easier. Instantaneous.
Boy or girl, he or she would be welcomed warmly. He or she was doing great, though it was still very early, but it was never too early to go over names. What were we going to name this unplanned, though still eagerly anticipated little human being?
Once the news was out to Chris' family, the gift cards and checks started pouring in. Chris actually had to call his brothers and tell them to knock it off. We appreciated their gestures, and the money they had sent would come in great handy with the big expenses as we prepared the baby's room, we actually did have a lot saved up.
I had a feeling his brothers we vying for a naming-after, but we'd already chosen names. Hesitantly settling on Anthony Vincent for a boy. It had a ring to it that I liked, and Anthony was his father's name.
As for a girl, I chose the name Leandra after my aunt- My mother's sister. I didn't get to spend much time with her, much at all, but the time I did spend with her I remembered fondly. She was such a strong person, I remembered of her, and her name fit her. I chose Lynne for a middle name after my own mother, because if it wasn't for her pushing us along, my brother and I would never have made it out of that house alive.
Chris voted on the names Gabriella or Cassandra, but I immediately stomped out that dream. I didn't want anything too girly. I'd always considered my own name, Regina, too girly. 'Leandra' was about the only name ending with 'A' I was willing to consider.
I also argued that he got to choose the boy names, so he relented.
And it turned out that Chris was right. She was a girl. Leandra, it was. It was a fairly big surprise to me, considering he came from a family of only boys. His older brother had a son. Not a girl in the bunch, but Chris had given me a daughter. I even asked the nurse to check the ultrasound again. Maybe from a different angle.
She just laughed, and confirmed. Those parts were definitely female, though even I had to admit that it was hard to tell from the little black and white blobs on the image.
Though we hadn't even met her yet, we both knew that she would be beautiful. I had dreams, nightly, of meeting her. Of seeing her face. Laying awake in bed those nights, the soft rain rhythmically hitting the roof and every time she'd move, kicking me or nudging me, I'd smile.
Each doctor's visit, each check up, she was doing even better than the couple of weeks before. She'd gotten bigger. Stronger, confirmed by her loving movements in my stomach. I grew to love my baby girl.
Especially with how supportive Chris was.
Even toward the final months. The aching, the soreness. Sleepless, grumpy, and generally very irritable. He was there through those times, even when I couldn't stand seeing his face. When his presence alone was enough to make me want him to sleep outside.
It was very odd to me, but it must have been a hormonal, end-of-the-pregnancy thing. Some primal instinct, wanting to toss the male out of the cave in an attempt to protect the offspring. It would have been amusing, had the sound of him breathing not irritated the living hell out of me.
One night, I laid awake, waiting for her nightly movements, when they didn't come. She was still. I'd begun to worry. Was something wrong? Maybe she was mad at me because I didn't have that big of an appetite that night, and had gone to bed early. Maybe she'd just decided to sleep instead of kick-box my bladder?
Tossing and turning, trying to find a position that didn't hurt. The cramping pain that I really should have paid more attention to, but didn't because I was able to ignore it until now.
Then I understood. With a gasp, I reached over and grabbed Chris' arm as he slept beside me. The entire evening, I'd passed this feeling off as maybe gas, or my normal aches. Thinking I just hadn't felt that well, but no. Her stillness told me, somehow, that she had decided that she wasn't going to wait until July 28th. I just knew.
She was ready now. Two weeks, to the day, early.
I'd always remember how thankful I was that Chris was home that night. I no longer felt irritated at his presence, but comforted that my male hadn't run off at my hostile nature. I was so scared, and as always, he held my hand, making things okay. He was there beside me the entire time, fearlessly helping me to the car. Supporting me, making sure I made it safely.
The day, or night, had finally come when we'd finally meet her. Our baby girl.
For her being my first baby, it sure didn't take me long to bring her out. The rain rolled down outside the hospital window, and roughly five hours after getting to the hospital, I'd done my job.
Seven pounds, fourteen ounces. Eighteen inches long. She was gorgeous. Naturally, as soon as I heard her cry, I cried. Just the night before, she was kicking me in the stomach. Just three nights ago, she'd tested my physical boundaries. Pushing out, stretching for more room which I couldn't give her, and now here she was. Being placed into my arms, still whimpering up at me.
I suddenly forgot all about the pain, the discomfort. Roughly nine months of sharing such a small space with someone. I forgot about all the worries, all the nervousness, looking into the tiny, beautiful face of my brand new daughter, I felt like all of that was all over nothing. Just nine months. I'd made this beautiful face. These fingers, these toes.
I looked up, meeting Chris' eyes as he stood beside me, and I laughed a little, noticing that he was crying as well.
The first time he held her, just moments after she was born, I swear to this day that he sobbed, but he denies it. She'd taken her first breath on July 14th at three-twenty-four in the morning, and she was amazing.
Fast forward a year, too many sleepless nights to count, and thousands of diapers, and she was just as spirited as her father. Wavy dark auburn hair, and clear green eyes. Both taken from him as well. All the fear and uncertainty. All the moments when she would cry, and I'd have no idea what was wrong. Holding her, rocking her in my arms. Praying she wasn't dying of some unknown baby disease.
The intense ache of relief when she'd finally stop crying in my arms, and settle off to sleep.
I loved everything about her. Her giggle, her hair. Her toes, fingers, and her little nose. Her gorgeous, big green eyes. She was everything I'd ever hoped for, and I loved my daughter with every fiber of my being. Her personality, despite how others may doubt her having one at that age. I loved her so much, and I would give my life for this beautiful little girl in my arms.
She was so bright, so very beautiful. Soft and warm.
Chris, as I'd known all along, was a very wonderful father. The sight of him holding his daughter never ceased to amaze me. Here she was, this now year old little baby, and there he was. A grown man smiling at her as if she'd given him all he'd ever wanted. Just by smiling up at him.
Not only did she look like the spitting image of Chris, but part of me began to see how she preferred him most of the time. As soon as she was old enough to notice, she fussed more often than not with me. She'd go to him, and she would be happy as a clam. It was interesting to watch, but it never failed. She was a daddy's girl.
I knew it was nothing personal. I'd read somewhere that sometimes babies responded better to a deeper tone of voice, or the smell of cologne instead of perfume. Most of the time, it was the other way around, but sometimes, an odd one would come about. Their senses were still developing, so what they liked was what they liked.
Through each milestone she hurdled like a pro, rolling over, sitting up, crawling, her first unsteady steps, the different food stages, she gained more of my admiration. She was getting so big, so fast.
A year and a half, two years old, toddling around the house.
She'd wind up landing at Chris, laughing and giggling when he'd lift her. When he was gone during the day, she'd always go to me, but when he was home, it wasn't often I got time with my baby girl.
She was healthy, confirmed by the doctor at her latest appointment, and she was happy. Growing so fast, I could hardly believe it. Two years had gone by, and it still very much seemed like I'd only yesterday found out I was pregnant with her. I knew that would never go away.
Once she started talking, she picked it up and ran with it. Even before she knew words, she gave her opinions. She wanted to be heard, and there was nobody she wouldn't give a good talking-to.
Chris had begun to take her places as soon as she was old enough. He'd started taking her to the park as early as six, seven months, which I somehow strongly believed was the reason behind her expressive nature. She had so much to talk about.
It wasn't so much to play back then, but to give me a break. At first, I appreciated this time to myself. Just to unwind, maybe get a little cleaning done or a small nap in.
He loved her more than his own life, but for the oddest reasons, lately I'd begun to feel like I was only in the way. Like he was using Leandra as an excuse to avoid me. It was a suspicion that slowly grew bigger.
After her second birthday, things began to change.
After her second birthday came the not so fun milestones. Childproofing everything. Touching things she didn't need to be touching. Playing with things she didn't need to be playing with. Knowing the difference between the two, but completely ignoring the rules I'd set for her. She was so smart, so bright that there was no way she didn't know what she was doing.
Testing my patience day in, day out. Stubbornness, hard-headedness, even a little sassiness thrown into the mix. Tantrums, just to get her way.
Climbing out of her crib at night, which was dangerous in itself, but while I wasn't there to watch what she got into. Climbing the cabinets in search of the cookies on top of the refrigerator. Making herself a 'sammich' without me there to watch her.
Switching the crib for a big-girl bed only seemed to make that ten times worse, but at least I didn't need to worry about her falling and breaking her neck on her way out of the crib.
Potty training went fairly well, I had to admit, but that was an ongoing process. Sometimes she told me, sometimes she chose not to. It all depended on her mood that day. We'd just begun the second week.
The words, "Leandra, don't touch that, don't lick that, don't eat that, don't do that, put that down, get down from there" and more seemed to be repeated. Several times. Every. Single. Day.
My two year old was a selectively-hearing little tornado of activity. With very little, to no help at all from Chris. I felt the entire weight of keeping our child alive, or at very least from doing stupid shit, on my own shoulders, all with the most annoying shows and videos on constant repeat, just to keep her from melting down. She wouldn't watch but ten minutes of the damn thing, but dare I turn it off?
To make matters worse, Chris would immediately take her to the park instead of staying home with me, and he'd stay there for hours. He'd focus all of his free time on her, when I needed attention as well. I did appreciate the child-free time, but not at the expense of time with my husband.
I began to feel very lonely, and a little jealous. I didn't blame her. Not in the least. As close as Chris and I were before we had her, it was very different now.
We'd argue so often about what she needed, and a few times, it got pretty intense. He'd never hit me. Of course not, but I would get so upset with him because he believed he knew more about our daughter than I did.
I was her mother. I knew my child.
The jealousy I felt only grew stronger the more I tried to ignore it, and I tried. I honestly tried to get over it. I tried, made an honest effort to get Chris and I back to where we were before our lives changed completely, but he'd ignore my efforts as if I never even made any.
He kept his hours at work, and even picked up a few more. Between his work, and taking her on his time off, he was gone, it seemed, for days on end.
The inevitable happened. We started to grow apart, and I just couldn't understand it. We'd been such a good team in the beginning. I didn't know what had changed.
Our fights grew more heated, especially after things around the house became more difficult to do. The sink backed up, the shower didn't work. I'd have an irritated child on my hip demanding her daddy, while trying to fix lunch for her in a kitchen with no sink, and a cabinet door that refused to open without falling off its hinges. I'd fixed it a dozen times on my own, but it never lasted long. I eventually just pulled it off and set it to the side, giving up on it completely. That damn thing was dead to me.
Life actually became much harder when I finally admitted to myself that stress was running my life. Realizing that stress was running my life made my life more stressful. Go figure.
I finally made the realization one night while he worked late, sitting there watching her sleep, that I needed someone who was with me more often. With both of us, because I knew full well that I was no good to her if I was this stressed out.
Looking back now, I know I was only tired. I never thought being a mommy would be this hard. Don't get me wrong. I loved her, and I'd always love her, but I needed someone in my life too.
I needed someone who would be there to hold me when I needed it. Someone to listen to my gripes and complains, or just be there when I cried. Someone who would recognize the fact that I was still alive. That I was more than just some nagging little housewife, and someone who would love Leandra like his own.
I wasn't planning on being unfaithful. I would never do that to him, but enough was enough. I needed help, and as hard as Chris worked, I wasn't getting it. I needed help, not money.
I felt like I was trying to raise her alone, and he was only helping by taking her away from me. She was my daughter, and the fact that he felt that he had the right to take her away whenever he wanted, even if he always returned her back to my arms, bothered me.
"Chris." I spoke one September morning, watching him lift her from her bed, "We need to talk." I sighed. I'd just gotten her down for a nap, and it always annoyed me when he'd come in and pick her up.
"I'll get to the washer when I have the time, Gina." He sighed as well, shaking his head. Always assuming a nag was coming. That was it. That was what bugged me the most.
He kissed her head, and I saw she was immediately wide awake again.
"Chris, I'm serious. I'm trying to be honest here-"
"I'll get to it when I get to it." He hadn't raised his voice, but it was close enough.
"I'm not trying to argue with you!" Watching him only shake his head, and leave the room only frustrated me further, "Chris, listen to me."
I followed him. I watched him sit her down on the couch, handing her one of her stuffed animals before he turned. Leandra's eyes were large as she looked to us, as if knowing what was coming. That should have been my first clue. That should have been what told me things weren't working anymore. Leandra had taken notice.
"Gina, I'm tired of this." He finally said, "I'm tired of this. The moment I come through that door, it's all about things I haven't done, or need to do. Things I haven't gotten to yet! Just get off my back, for Christ's sake!"
"If you were home more often, things wouldn't be that way! You have plenty of free time to spend around the house with me, but you choose to leave! When else am I supposed to bring this up, Chris? You never listen when I do see you!"
"I never listen because you choose to spend any time I do have here demanding things get done!"
"If you'd stay home with her more often-"
"So now you're angry with me because I like to spend time with my daughter?" He barked, "Really, Gina?"
"I'm not angry at that!" I groaned, "I just want some-"
"Want! Want, want, want! That's all you ever do!" He ran his hands through his hair, "You want more than Leandra does! Grow up, Gina!"
I refused to say another word. My gaze darkening significantly.
We looked at each other for several moments. Slowly, his eyes grew less angry, and they grew more sad. He'd crossed the line right then, and we both knew it.
Never once were either of us supposed to bring Leandra into our arguments, and he'd just done that. He hadn't meant to do that, and I knew it, but I wouldn't stand for that. She deserved better than that.
He was realizing, as I already had, things just weren't the same. I watched, my heart breaking as he sighed, looked down, and turned. Leaving the house.
I watched him go, not saying a word. The door closed, the car engine started and faded away. I had yet to move.
"Mama?" Her unsure little voice called to me, and I finally got moving. I crossed the living area, and lifted her to me. I kissed the side of her head, sniffling quietly. Closing my eyes, and struggling to hold onto my tears. I held her that way, holding her in my arms for quite some time.
"I'm sorry, baby." I told her. That was all I could do.
"What's wrong, mama?" She whimpered, picking up on my mood. It nearly broke me right there. Here she was, two years and two months old, and probably having just witnessed the last step before her mother and father gave up on each other.
She didn't need this. I was never going to have her know what this was like. I was going to protect her from the arguments, the fights.
"Nothing." I replied to her, looking to her, "It's okay now."
To be honest, I didn't know what to do. Watching Chris walk away had hurt me, and the only thing it told me was that he was as done trying as I was. So I did the only thing I could think of. I packed Leandra into my car, and we left. Just to go somewhere. Anywhere but that empty house.
Her big, curious eyes looking at me from the backseat made me think, and think hard about what I was doing. What was I even going to do? I was either already completely on my own, or headed there fast. With a two year old to take care of, that thought was terrifying. On top of the pain of what Chris' actions had told me.
Leandra shouldn't have to be this confused. She shouldn't have to worry about this. This was what I wanted to avoid. She deserved stability, and she deserved to have two parents that got along. Not ones that fought all the time. Over the stupidest things. How a question about what to do about our life leads to this.
I took her to a place in town where we could eat a small late lunch, and I could just think. She didn't seem worried anymore. I was with her, watching her choose the perfect french fry to eat next.
It was clear to me that I'd have to get a job again. That was the first step, but I honestly didn't know what I was supposed to do in the meantime. Would Chris wait until I was situated before leaving? Would he leave, and insist on taking Leandra with him because I couldn't provide for her yet?
That couldn't happen.
I just didn't know. That was the hardest part. I didn't know him anymore, and that was behind all of this uncertainty. What would he do? Take her to get back at me for making an effort? I needed a miracle and quickly. A way forward. A way through this blinding fear.
After we were done eating, I watched her play in the small park across the street with a few other babies her age. A couple of boys, one a little older than her. It was easy to keep track of her now that she'd found a few other toddlers to toddle after.
My eyes never left her as I thought about the consequences of what I was considering.
A/N: First chapter down. This one was hardest, I think. I had a whole lot of information to pack in here.
As a side note: I really think I just talked myself out of having kids with this single chapter. Like.. Ever.
I hope you enjoyed this first chapter. If so, feel free to let me know in the review box below. I'd love to know if I should continue or not. :)
Two shouldn't take very long, as it's already written out.
Until two, my friends! :D