What If? Part 3
Author's Note: Here is Part 3 of our little story. Again, not writing the full story, just the moments I like.
Let me know what you think.
Ooooooooooooooooooooo
Liz lay on her bed with her hand on her stomach trying to connect with the fetus inside her. The life that she was unexpectedly now in charge of.
Sleeping with Tom was stupid. She knew that the moment she came to her senses after the act was complete. She knew when he asked her to come away with him that if she wanted to save herself she needed to walk in the opposite direction of whatever way he was going. And she knew they were done. Through. Finished. She was free.
Now, life had a way of biting her in the ass again. She would never be free of him as long as this child linked them. She considered aborting; she wasn't against it. But everytime she picked up the phone to make the appointment she hung up. She always strongly believed that things happened for a reason.
"What's the reason for you?" Liz asked her stomach.
She sighed. This was not how her life was supposed to go. This was not how she saved herself.
She launched herself off her bed and opened her laptop as she walked toward the small table looking up adoption sites that she'd also bookmarked. Maybe she didn't feel right about getting rid of it, but maybe she wasn't supposed to keep it? Maybe the reason she was pregnant was to give this child the chance she didn't get?
Liz spent an hour looking more closely at the websites and making notes as she sat at her table.
When the bell rang two hours later, she knew it was Reddington, just like she knew she was going to hand this baby over to some deserving parents who had the unfortunate genetics that didn't allow them to reproduce. Then, she could go on with her life, Tom-less and make something of herself. Face the music about Connelly and Ressler. Possibly serve time, if needed.
"I can't have a baby in jail," Lizz said under her breath as she stepped toward her front door and opened it to see Reddington and Dembe on the other side.
"I don't want to hear it," Liz said as she walked away from the door.
"Of all the stupid..." Reddington started.
"I don't want to hear it," Liz called out to him like a child having a tantrum. She plunked herself down on her bed like a teenager being chastised for denting the car.
"You won't consider...?" Reddington started.
"I'm putting it up for adoption," Liz said, trying to stop the argument. "I don't want Tom in my life anymore and I may even be in jail in a few months. This kid deserves more than that."
Reddington nodded, happy she had some sense.
"I will help you find..." he started.
"I will take care of it," she said, annoyed that he was trying to take over.
"Fine," he said, annoyed.
"Is that all?" Liz asked.
"No, for some odd reason Donald left me a letter in the event of his death," Reddington said as he produced an envelope from his coat. "And these."
He held up some keys.
Liz looked at him strangely.
"He gifted his condo to you," Reddington said as he looked around her shabby motel room.
"What?" Liz asked as she stood from her spot.
"You own it," Reddington said as he handed her the keys.
"I'm the reason he died," Liz said. "I don't want it. His family..."
"They know," Reddington said.
It felt like a gut punch. Ressler wouldn't have done that if he knew she...
"I'll just sell it and give the money to his family for..." Liz started.
"You are prohibited from selling it for a period of 1 year as a new owner," Reddington said as he handed her the condo agreement. "And, honestly, it may do you some good to...have a home for a while."
Liz swallowed hard.
"And, you can't just sell a place, you need to pack up his things..."
It felt like a cruel joke to Liz.
"Anyways, it's yours and I think it will help bring you closure," Reddington said softly.
Liz started to cry.
"Lizzie..." he said softly as he walked toward her.
"Don't," Liz said holding up her hand to stop his progress toward her.
He stopped and sighed and when she left to get tissues she returned to an empty room.
It took her almost a week to be brave enough to walk into his condo. Another few days before she really looked around. Another week before she slept there and woke up smelling like Ressler. It was that morning that she decided she needed to stay if only so she could wake up like that every day for as long as possible.
And now, as Liz sat on his couch looking through a box of condoms and lubes and various other sexual items, she found in his nightstand she laughed for the first time since he died. Laughed at the irony that she was cleaning these things out. The silliness of the items. The craziness that he was no longer with her. The oddness of thinking of him reaching into this box in a moment of pleasure. The sadness that she would never share that moment with him. The wildness that she, pregnant, was going through Ressler's most intimate items.
She laughed until she cried and curled up on his sofa and slept. Sure in the final moments before sleep consumed her that she was in an alternate reality and somewhere Ressler was laughing and joking and kissing one of the women he brought home one night and reaching for another box of items just like this. Liz didn't care. She would gladly give him up to another woman if he could just be alive and with her again.
To be continued...