For some reason life in Iowa starts to get a little easier.
Maybe it's because now when I lie awake at night, it's not with silent tears
streaming down my face, but with memories of moonlit nights and cool lips
dancing in my head. Maybe it's because I get up each morning tingling with
excitement, eager to send Riley off to work so I can sit patiently by the
phone, waiting for it to ring and to hear Angel's deep voice on the other end.
He always calls now, every day when he wakes up. The first
time he did it he said it was because he was dreaming of me and had to hear my
voice to make sure any of our week together actually happened. I told him it
did and we talked for over an hour. Then when we ran out of things to say we
listened to the silence on the other end of the line, just the sound of each
other's breathing exchange enough.
My improved mood seems to have rubbed off on the atmosphere
around me too. Suddenly, the heat seems less stifling, the air less dusty.
Caleb becomes more like a little person each day and less like a burden. The
thing that used to only cry and scream and wail, now is beginning to develop a
personality of his own. He no longer protests whenever I go near him to hold him
or feed him. He even smiled a little smile when I leant over his crib
yesterday. Or at least I think it was a smile. It was probably just gas, but it
made me smile back at him all the same.
I don't hate him so much anymore. I don't see him as a
drain on my energy and my spirit. In fact it horrifies me that I ever did. I
guess for the first time, I'm beginning to feel the first stirrings of
motherhood inside me, the irony of which I don't miss. Angel is the cause of my
change in outlook, but he's also the one I'm betraying my son to be with. It's
just another impossible situation in the long line of those I have had to face.
It feels a little like I'm trying to juggle too many balls in the air at once.
Riley. Caleb. Angel. My slaying. And I can't let any of them drop, otherwise
the fragile equilibrium I have created in my life will fall tragically out of
balance once more.
Today, I push all my long-term worries out of my head,
however. Today Angel has flown overnight from Sunnydale, and we are to meet up
once more. He's got a room in a hotel in the nearest big town. I told Riley I
wanted to go on a shopping trip and I have his jeep for the day while my
mother-in-law looks after Caleb.
As I pull up outside the cheap motel I have to laugh a
little. Most adulterous wives would be meeting for an afternoon of sordid sex,
but not me. I'm just going to see Angel, to drink in his presence, to gaze into
his soft chocolate eyes, to have his rich voice wash over my senses, to lean my
head against his broad expanse of chest and feel his strong arms wrap around me
once more. The most we will be doing is kissing, but somehow the forced
innocence of the encounter makes it all the more treacherous. This is not about
lust or boredom or any of the other standard excuses for extra-marital affairs.
I didn't meet a guy in a bar and take him home on a whim. I didn't get drunk
and make a mistake – my mistake was marrying Riley in the first place.
I know what I'm doing here. I know how much my actions can
hurt the people around me or even myself. But I just don't care. I love this
man who takes me into his embrace as soon as I walk into the room and covers my
lips with his before we can even say hello. And nothing matters to me more than
this moment when he breaks off the kiss and whispers in my ear.
"Hey."
"Hey," I smile back. "Miss me?"
He kisses me back – hard – taking my breath away. "More
than you could possibly imagine."
I cock my head to one side. "I don't know about that."
~~~
When I sneak back in the house, just before Riley is due to
return from work. Mrs Finn looks at me suspiciously and I am almost positive I
blush slightly.
"Did you have a nice time shopping?"
I smile uneasily. "Yeah, it was okay."
"You haven't bought much," she gestures to my empty hands.
I shrug, "There wasn't really a big selection of stores to
choose from."
She raises her eyebrows. "Sorry we couldn't quite meet your
high standards. Not everywhere is quite as glamorous as LA, you know. Anyway,
you were out long enough considering how little there was to see."
I avoid meeting her eyes. "Well, I just wanted to make sure
I didn't miss anything."
"Like your son," she snaps. "Or your husband – you
certainly didn't miss either of them."
I am just about to retort to this, when the front door
bangs and Riley walks in, grinning broadly. "Hi, how are my two favourite
ladies?"
"Fine," Mrs Finn replies, sneaking a glance in my
direction.
I turn around on my heel. "I'm just going to check on Caleb."
~~~
As the weeks pass by and Caleb gets bigger and livelier and
commands a greater part in my affections, my capacity to tolerate Riley
diminishes rapidly. I find myself constantly comparing him to Angel. The way
his skin is clammy and red, instead of silver and smooth. How it feels when he
touches me. The electricity that is missing from his kiss. The heat of his body
stifling me. The nausea that builds in my stomach every time he comes near.
And as it gets harder and harder to pretend to love him, it
also becomes harder to contemplate leaving him. I can't abandon Caleb. The same
baby I wanted dead two months ago I now can't imagine living without. It was
amazing how as the depression faded away my love for my son soared. And as his
character starts to emerge his stubborn streak and adventurousness become more
obvious. I see more of myself in him than I do of Riley and I find it
impossible as a mother not to make him the centre of my universe. Him and a
certain other dark haired male, whom I have taken to writing quite graphic
letters to recently (somehow the curse is no longer that much of an issue when
we're living one thousand miles apart and I can't help it if my fantasy life
gets a little out of hand sometimes).
Afraid to write back, in case Riley finds the letters,
Angel responds by calling when he sure Riley will be out at work. His voice is
husky with need and the conversations are sometimes more difficult than if we
didn't speak at all, due to the ache of missing him that rises in my heart each
time he hangs up. I have to see him again. Soon.
Brushing the tight braid out from my hair, I gaze at my
reflection in the mirror. Sometimes I do this and imagine Angel hovering
silently behind me, his image absent from the scene in front of me, but his
reassuring presence still there. But tonight the illusion is ruined by Riley
lifting weights in the corner of the bedroom.
"Do you have to do that in here?" I complain, irritated.
"I have to keep fit, Buffy," he replies, totally failing to
pick up on my annoyance.
"Yes, well can't you do it elsewhere?"
He turns on me, a hurt puppy-dog look on his face and guilt
rips through me anew. "Is everything okay with you, Buffy?"
I lay the hairbrush down on the dressing table and force
lightness into my voice. "Everything's fine."
"Are you sure?" He presses the issue. "Because, we can
always make another appointment with Dr Jackson."
My psychiatrist. I snap at my husband once and he
wants me to see a shrink. Excellent faith in my mental health Riley has there
then.
"I don't need to see Dr Jackson," I tell him firmly. "I'm
just feeling a little tired, that's all." Tired of you, tired of pretending
to be someone I'm not, tired of being separated from the person I love.
"Maybe you should come to bed then."
I slip out of my robe and climb under the covers of the
double bed, settling back on the pillows as far over to my side as I can
comfortably get. Riley slides in next to me and sidles up beside me.
"We haven't had an early night for a long time," he
whispers in my ear.
My muscles tense and I flinch away from him. "Probably
because you spend most evenings out drinking with your new buddies."
"Buffy," he chastises gently. "You know that's not true. I
meet the guys a couple of times a week. Anyway, we're just settling into a new
community here – it's good to socialise. You should meet up with some of the
other wives sometime."
"I can't, I'm always busy looking after Caleb," I turn my
body away from him.
"Ask Mom to sit for you – she won't mind."
I shake my head. "I don't like asking your mother for
anything more than she's already given us."
"It's okay, she's family. She likes to help out." Riley
kisses me wetly on the side of my cheek, reaching over to touch my arm.
"Likes to stick her nose in where it's not wanted, you
mean," I mutter under my breath.
His hand wanders across from my arm, finding my breast
through the thin cotton of my nightgown. His lips move up to my ear. "Why are
we still talking about my mother?"
My heart screams in protest of his touch. No, no, this
is all wrong. Get him away from me! He draws his body closer to mine, his
hot breath heavy on my neck, his fingers clumsy. I push him gently away, unable
to withstand the assault any longer.
"Please, Riley," I beg him to stop. "I said I was tired."
"I just thought it would be nice," he persists. "It's been
a long time."
"Just because we're married doesn't mean you can force
yourself on me," I hiss at him with angry eyes.
He pulls away abruptly, his expression hurt and a little
bewildered. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean…"
"It's okay, Riley," I shake my head, trying to expel some
of the loyalty to Angel that still lingers insistently there. "I'm sorry too,
come here." I open my arms to him in a platonic hug. "It's just too soon after
the baby, okay?"
He nods, settling his head down on the pillow next to mine.
I lean over to switch of the light then, wrapped in another man's arms, I lie
awake desperately planning when I can next see Angel.
~~~
I make up an excuse. There's an emergency at the Hellmouth.
I'm needed there to help out as the Slayer.
"I have to go, really. You know I wouldn't leave you and
Caleb if it wasn't important…"
He falls for it, hook, line and sinker. I had a whole cover
story planned – some threat of apocalypse made up and an entire catalogue of
excuses in case he wanted to come and fight with me. But he never even
protests, just is gullible enough to believe every word I feed him. He even
kisses me goodbye at the airport, wishing me good luck and making me promise to
be careful for him and Caleb.
As I retreat through the airport security, into the
departures lounge he calls out over the heads of the crowd. "I love you!"
I just smile and wave and blow Caleb a kiss, pushing the
feelings of guilt and disloyalty deep down inside me. I have to do this to keep
sane, I remind myself. They need me and I need Angel, that's how it works.
That's how it's gotta be.
I fidget all through the plane journey, every extra minute
I have to wait to meet Angel filling me with nervous anticipation. Annoyed by
my constant foot and finger tapping, the woman beside me shoots me a hostile
glare and when the plane lands, I practically leap out of my seat and run down
the aisle. With only a small bag I took on the place as hand luggage, I skip
straight past baggage claim, my eyes constantly scanning the sea of milling
tourists for a glimpse of Angel.
He spots my first, sidling up behind me and looping his
arms around my waist. I lean back into him, relief and a new sense of inner
peace washing over me. Whenever he is near suddenly everything is okay again.
The night seems less dark and my problems not so overwhelming.
We kiss and kiss as people weave around us, some oblivious,
others making irritated or even risqué comments. But we ignore them all, lost
only in each other. Eventually, we break apart, laughter in our eyes and on our
lips. Then he carries my bag, like the true gentleman he is, and we walk
hand-in-hand out of the airport.
"Are we heading straight back to Sunnydale?" I ask, as we
climb into his antique car. He had to kill convention, didn't he, and be the
only vampire to own and drive a convertible.
Angel shakes his head. "No, I have something to show you in
LA first."
"What?"
"It's a surprise."
I pout. "You know I hate surprises."
He thinks for a second. "You'll like this one."
I continue to pester him for an explanation as we drive
through the streets of LA, but he expertly fields all my questions and refuses
to reveal anything further. We pull up outside the Hyperion Hotel and I raise
my eyebrows.
"I thought you gave up this place when you moved back to
Sunnydale."
He surveys the imposing façade of the building. "I thought
it might come in useful to keep it. Besides, I don't spend all my time in
Sunnydale, just when they need me there. I still have my business in LA with
Wesley and Cordelia."
"Wow," I smile teasingly at him. "You are a busy boy,
aren't you?"
He returns the grin. "Well, I have to do something to keep
my mind off you."
I stand up on my tiptoes to kiss him lightly on the nose.
"So, where's my surprise then?"
"You have to put this on first," he produces a heavy
blindfold.
"Ooh, bondage – kinky," I mean my comment as a joke, but
regret it immediately after it slips from my mouth, as the sexual tension
between us steps up several notches. "Here," I take the blindfold off him
feeling a bolt of electricity shoot through me as our hands brush. I am vaguely
aware of my breathing becoming heavier and more ragged as I tie the cloth
around my eyes, accepting Angel's help with the knot.
He takes my arm and guides me in through the main doors, as
it briefly strikes me how unequivocally I trust him. After all Angel and I have
been through together – Angelus, Hell, him leaving me, the time that I try my
best to forget when he was helping Faith and he hit me and yelled at me and I'd
never felt less a part of his world – you'd think I may have some lingering
doubts about my safety with him. But I don't. None at all. I would let him lead
me anywhere, secure in the knowledge that he won't ever let anything bad
happen.
Eventually, we reach our destination and I try desperately
to guess where we are. My footsteps echo on wooden floorboards and underneath
the light smell of perfume in the air is a lingering one of paint and varnish.
I sense a large room, with lots of empty space around us, but it is still warm
and inviting.
Angel gently removes the blindfold and I gasp. It is the
ballroom he showed me the time I first visited the hotel. Only now it has been
restored to its full glory and is lit by a thousand candles. The chandeliers
have been raised back up to the ceiling and their crystals sparkle like stars
in the night sky.
"It's beautiful," I breathe. "When did you…?"
He smiles, glad that I like what I see. "I've been doing
little bits and pieces to it every weekend for a while now. Gunn and Wesley
helped too. And Cordelia picked out the décor."
I gaze around me in awe at the spectacular and opulent
surroundings. "But this must have cost a fortune."
Angel shrugs. "It's not like I can't afford it."
"Wow," is about I can think of to say and I am still in
shock as Angel locates a CD player he has already set up and presses a button
on it, filling the room with classical music.
He holds out his hand. "Dance with me."
Happy tears fill my eyes as he draws me into his arms.
"Always," I murmur back into his chest.
~~~
The next morning I awake in Angel's arms and it is the most
incredible feeling. I'd forgotten what it's like to wake-up happy, not to rue
the moment I open my eyes, because the dream world I inhabit is so much better
than reality. But now is not like that. Now I want to leap out of bed and run
out on to the roof and scream at the world. He loves me! But I don't,
because that would mean leaving Angel's embrace and that's not something I want
to do for a long time yet.
Silently, I watch him sleep, marvelling that this
magnificent creature is actually mine. Mine. He belongs to me. I own his
soul and his heart and – God – his beautiful body. It's me he dreams of as his
eyelids flutter, it's my name he murmurs every so often. I wonder what I
possibly did to deserve such devotion, to warrant the attention of somebody as
spectacular as him and sometimes I have trouble even believing it. I'd say it
was a trick or a dream if it didn't feel so completely and utterly meant to be.
I trace gentle patterns on his bare chest and he stirs, his
eyes dragging themselves open and fixing me with an expression brimming over
with love.
"Buffy," he smiles groggily, pulling my body closer to his
and catching my lips in a good morning kiss.
The kiss deepens, as we are swept up in the passion of the
moment. His hand slides down my side, resting on my hipbone and I entwine my
fingers in his hair. Arching towards him, my thinly covered nipples graze
against his chest and I can feel his arousal pressing against my bare thigh.
I break away, gasping for breath. "It's getting harder,
isn't it?"
"What?" He fixes me with a confused look, disentangling our
bodies.
"Oh!" I suddenly realise my Freudian slip and blush beet
red. "I mean, it's getting more difficult. This whole no sex thing."
"Buffy," he sighs. "Do you think we could possibly discuss
this when at least one, or preferably both of us, actually have clothes on?"
"I'm just saying," I continue regardless. "That it's
starting to drive me crazy – touching you, and holding you, and kissing you,
and then suddenly having to stop." I let out a deep breath, trying to expel
some of the unsatisfied lust building up inside me. "Definitely crazy," I smile
wryly. "You?"
He leans his head back on the pillow, briefly closing his
eyes. "I'd be lying if I said I didn't think about it," he glances back over at
me. "Oh, about 23 hours a day."
I frown. "What do you think about the other hour then?"
He grins mischievously at me. "Claudia Schiffer."
"Hey," I playfully slap him on the chest. "I'm trying to be
serious here. What are we going to do?"
The grin fades from Angel's face and he props himself up on
his elbows. "What can we do?"
"I don't know," I reply, trying desperately to think of a
way out of an impossible situation. "And if you suggest we break up, I'm gonna
stake you right now, mister."
He sits up properly, leaning over to rest a gentle hand on
my arm. "You know that if we get to the point where we can't control ourselves
any longer, then we're going to have to stay apart."
"But we're still along way from that, right?" I ask
anxiously and he nods somewhat unconvincingly. "Maybe there's something we can
do, some way to fix the curse, or bind your soul, or something."
He shakes his head. "There's nothing that I've found in any
texts."
"But magic's not really your area of expertise," I say,
beginning to warm to my theme. "If we took the problem to a proper witch, somebody
who's had experiences with Romany curses before, then we might be able to find
a solution."
Angel looks at me quizzically. "What exactly did you have
in mind?"
"Willow," I reply. "We could ask Willow."
~~~
"Buffy!" My best friend, or at least the girl who used to
be my best friend before I dropped out of my life in Sunnydale and stepped into
a new one with Riley, pulls me into a welcoming hug.
"It's great to see you," she effuses. "I didn't know you
were back in town. Are Riley and Caleb with you?"
I shake my head. "No, it's just me."
"Well, that's good too," she perches cross-legged on a
cushion on the floor and motions for me to sit down next to her. "We can have
time to catch up."
"Yeah," I nod vaguely. "Will? We, uh, kinda need your help
with something."
"We? You mean, you and Riley?"
I pause, taking a deep breath before I speak. "No, I mean
me and Angel."
"You and Angel," she echoes. "I didn't even think there was
a you and Angel anymore."
"Yeah, well," I reply sheepishly, tucking my hair
self-consciously behind one ear as I do so. "It's sort of a long story."
"How long?" Willow asks, carefully measuring her words and
her reaction.
"Three, nearly four months."
Her eyebrows shoot up. "Buffy! You can't be serious! You're
married to Riley. And…and, this is Angel we're talking about here. You
remember, the vampire with the very loseable soul."
"That's the problem," I cut in.
"What?" She scrunches up her face in thought until comprehension
dawns. "Oh. OH! But…"
I reach out and take her hand in mine. "Do you think you
could help? Maybe look for a way to bind his soul?"
She tugs her hand gently away from mine and looks at me
with an incredulous expression. "Buffy, are you asking me to help find you a
way to cheat on your husband?"
I open and close my mouth several times without saying
anything. "I-it's not like that," I finally stutter.
"Then what is it like?" She persists in a soft voice. "Do
you have any idea how much you're going to hurt Riley? It isn't worth it,
Buffy. I know, I've been there stuck between Xander and Oz. No matter how you
feel in the moment, it isn't worth losing the person you love."
"That's all I'm doing – holding on to who I love."
"I don't understand…" she looks at me, confused.
"I never loved Riley," I clarify. "I had to marry him,
because…because of the baby. But now I'm stuck. I don't want to leave Caleb
without a mother, but I can't live without Angel either."
"But it can't possibly work," she protests. "Have you even
given Riley a chance? He's a great guy and he really cares about you."
I drop my head into my hands, groaning in protest. "I know
that, Will. That's not the issue here. No matter how much I try or how many
good points of Riley's I can see, I'm never going to love him. Never. And being
with him just makes me miserable. Did you see me after Caleb was born? I was a
mess. I just…I just wanted everything to end – it all to be over. And then
Angel came along and suddenly things started to get better. I need him. I need
him so much, but everything's so complicated." My cheeks feel wet and suddenly
I realise I am crying. Sobbing real tears for the unfathomable dilemma I am
faced with.
"Oh, Buffy," Willow reaches a comforting hand out to stroke
my hair. "I'll look into it okay. I can't make any promises, but I'll try."
"Thank you."
~~~
Another two days is all I feel I can risk with Angel and he
drops my off at the airport forty-eight hours later, both our hearts breaking
as we have to part once more.
"I love you," he whispers in my ear at the very last
minute.
"Love you too," I return, punctuated with a frantic kiss
just as they are announcing the final boarding call for my flight. Reluctantly,
I drag myself away from him, tears blurring my vision as I hurry down the
gangway onto the plane.
This is the way it has to be, I remind myself as an almost
mantra. Angel and I can never be together on a full time basis – there are just
too many problems keeping us apart – and I have responsibilities to Riley and
Caleb. This is the best possible arrangement, really. It's perfect. I have
everything I always wanted: a home, a family who love me, an adorable son and
my Angel on the side. I couldn't ask for anything more. So, why then, do I feel
so dreadful about it all the time?
I catch a cab home from the airport at the other end, since
Riley will be busy at work. But when I arrive back at the house, I am surprised
to find him standing in the living room doorway, waiting for me.
"Hey," I smile at him warmly. "I wasn't exactly expecting a
welcoming party."
He gives me a strange look – vague, blank, perhaps a little
confused, or maybe hurt. "How did it go?"
"Um, good," I reply, falling easily into my lie. "It was a
bit of a close call, but in the end the Scooby gang were victorious once more.
But then, hey, you know that already, 'cause the world didn't end."
"And how is everyone?"
"They're all fine – no broken bones. I mean Xander was hit
over the head, but he doesn't really use that part of his anatomy much, so no
big – "
"I called Giles," he interrupts in an ultra calm tone. "I
wanted to find out if everything was okay, or whether I could help in any way."
I swallow deeply, saying nothing, just standing back and
watching my carefully constructed web of deceit collapsing around me.
"And you know what?" Riley's voice begins to take on an
edge of sarcastic anger. "He said that he wasn't aware of any particular
imminent apocalypse, and that in fact, he didn't even know you were in
Sunnydale at all. But then he did offer to call and ask Angel if he had any
information on the problem. I told him not to bother."
"Riley – " I begin, but he cuts me off again.
"What's going on Buffy? Have you being seeing him
behind my back? Have you been FUCKING AROUND with a VAMPIRE?" He advances
towards me, his fury evident. Gripping hold of my arm, he brings his face right
up to mine and speaks in a quiet hiss. "Have you, huh? Answer me, Buffy!" He
reinforces his demand by shaking me violently, and instinctively I lash out at
the threat facing me, backhanding my own husband sharply across the jaw,
sending him sprawling to the floor.
"No," I answer in a strangled voice, tears streaming down
my cheeks. "NO!"
Riley looks up at me in disgust, blood seeping out of the
corner of his mouth. "But, you were with him these last few days, weren't you?
You used money I earned to pay for a flight to LA to be with him."
"I – yes…" I wipe my eyes furiously with the back of my
hand. There is no point denying it now. Riley knows. Oh, God, he knows…
"How long has this been going on?" He asks, climbing
unsteadily to his feet and I am suddenly aware that it was me who knocked him
down on the ground like that. It was me. I hit him. I hurt him. Oh God, oh God,
oh God.
"I'm sorry…" I blurt out. "I didn't mean to…"
"How. Long."
I flinch in the wake of Riley's intensity. He is normally
so steady, so mild and benevolent. I've only ever seen him this way a few times
before and that was when the Initiative messed him up, when they were poisoning
him with their drugs and their electronic chips. But I don't understand what is
making him behave like this now.
"Since the time we went to Sunnydale together – you
remember, after the hospital…"
"So, all this time, you've been telling me lies." Riley
paces the room, agitated. "How did you work things out? Was he ever here? Did
you kiss him in OUR HOME? Did you let him touch Caleb? Did you laugh
that stupid Riley's too dim to ever notice anything?"
I shake my head, chanting the answer. "No, no, no, no, no."
Riley takes a deep breath, visibly calming himself. "Well,
it stops now. You're not going back to Sunnydale and you're never going to see
Angel again."
I gaze open-mouthed at him, a terrible void cracking open
in my heart. I had expected Riley to throw me out, for the marriage to be over.
It would have hurt, but I would have coped, I would have run back to Angel and
he'd have made everything feel a little better. But now I don't understand what
is happening. "What?" I stutter out.
"I forgive you," Riley says, making the statement sound oh
so reasonable. "I never thought our relationship would be perfect, Buffy. I
never expected you to love me as much as I love you. So, I'm willing to make
allowances. We can go along like nothing happened – we can forget all this
silly business – as long as you promise to never see him again."
"But, but, you don't understand," I reply in confusion. "I
love Angel. I need him – I want to be with him, not you…"
He advances towards me, gently taking my hand, and speaking
to me as though I am a child. "No, you don't understand, Buffy. Either you
break things off with Angel or you never see Caleb ever again."
My stomach suddenly goes hollow and I feel sick. "No, no,
you wouldn't…you couldn't."
He nods. "Yes, I could. What judge in their right mind
would grant custody to an adulterous mother – to one who tried to kill her own
baby, whose mental health is questionable, who dropped out of college and has
no job, no money, no future? I'll take you to court for him and I will
win."
The full truth of what Riley is condemning me to finally
hits me. Angel or Caleb. My lover or my son. There is no halfway point here, no
custody arrangements or stolen phone calls. I have to choose one and my choice
will be forever.
No Angel, never again. The thought horrifies me. It
won't just be like breaking up, where there was always the faint hope in the
back of my mind that we might be reunited one day, that our love was eternal
and finally our dreams would be realised. There will be no idle fantasies, of
hazy futures, where the Shanshu he self-consciously revealed to me one
bittersweet night has happened and we make love all day languidly in the
sunshine. There will not even be any chance encounters, not a single moment I
can hold on to in order to persuade myself we are still connected. There will
be no jealous rages, or pain-filled eyes accusing me of forgetting him. No
awkward instances where our history stretches out between us like a beautiful
tapestry embroidered with pain and heartbreak and everlasting love. Just
memories and the ache of separation.
But my son. The tiny new life I gave birth to, the
individual I have the greatest responsibility to in the world. How can I leave
him, when I'm sworn to protect him, to care for him, to be a mother in every
way possible? How can I just abandon him for my own selfish reasons? He'll hate
me for the rest of his life – not just because I left, but because Riley will
make sure of it. How can I create that situation, tear a family apart? I can't.
I sink to the floor, sobbing openly. Riley crouches down
next to me. "Do you promise?" He asks in a whisper.
"Yes," I reply in a cracked and broken voice. "Yes."
"Good," he wraps his arms around me, rocking me tenderly.
"There you see – everything's okay now. It's all better. Everything's turned
out fine."