1Prologue Part 2
Sylvia Valentine was perched nervously on the edge of her seat, drumming her perfectly manicured nails against the cedar wood of the office desk. She wondered to herself, Why am I here again? Hopefully this will all turn out to be some obscure, horrible nightmare...For a brief, fleeting instant she regretted ever walking into the hospital, and she wondered if she was really doing the right thing... However, this moment of reasoning from her conscience was suddenly broken off as the doctor's voice dragged her back into reality.
"...however, there are a few risks that are included with the procedure, the same with any surgery, of course..." explained Dr. Goldberg. Suddenly, loud thundering footsteps, and frantic, pleading shouts were heard outside Dr. Goldberg's conference room. Sylvia and the doctor had just turned around in puzzled bewilderment when the door burst open dramatically to reveal a desperate Mr. Valentine. Sylvia immediately froze, gawking at the sight of her husband, as if refusing to believe he was really there.
"J-James dear! W-What are you doing here!" Mrs. Valentine stuttered nervously, regaining at least some of her composure.
"Don't 'James dear' me, Sylvia. I should be the one asking you what you're doing here!" he retorted furiously.
"Um, excuse me..." began Dr. Goldberg, who was very perturbed about being interrupted. With a heated glare from the infuriated Mr. Valentine, however, the doctor was silenced and retreated from the office silently and hastily, closing the door behind her. James turned his attention back to his primary concern; his wife. He turned a steely, empty gaze from his emerald eyes toward her. Her quivering, teary cerulean eyes stared back at his hopeless emerald ones.
"Is it true?" he forced out reluctantly, already knowing the answer to this question.
Sylvia broke away from his stare, feeling vulnerable, and slightly ashamed; she couldn't even face him anymore. "Yes, it's all true," she said simply.
"Why?" he whispered painfully.
"James...you don't understand..." she muttered softly.
"What!" he demanded, "What don't I understand!"
In reply, his wife gave a wracking sob, hiding her face in her hands. Overtaken with remorse and pity, James pulled her up from her seat and took her gently into his arms, just holding her while she cried. If James was utterly shocked and surprised by this uncharacteristic outward display of emotion, he didn't show it. It would be logical for him to be surprised, though, after all, this was only the 2nd time in his life that he had ever seen his wife cry. He didn't know why he still loved her, after everything that had happened in their lives, but he would love her until the end of the earth, even if her love for him was purely superficial.
"This wasn't supposed to happen," she blubbered onto her husband's shoulder, clutching onto him like a lifeline. "I had the tubal ligation, remember? I wasn't supposed to get pregnant..."
"The surgery isn't always 100 successful." he interrupted her.
Having calmed down a bit, she continued, "So... when I came down here, I just wanted to ask about the procedure, and...maybe...set a date for an abortion..."
At this, she looked up at him cautiously, trying to judge the expression on his face. He looked away, hurt, "Is it because of me? You don't want my child?"
Sylvia couldn't deny everything he said, after all, it was partly true; she had never wanted to have a child. "I'm not meant to be a mother," she replied, "I never wanted to be, and you accepted it when you married me."
"I know, I wasn't meant to be a father either, but you have to accept that you're pregnant, Sylvia. Having an abortion as an easy way out of this won't solve all your problems." he commented.
"But James, my career, my body, everything is ruined now! If I'm pregnant, then I'll have to quit modeling for at least 9 months!" she claimed, distraught.
"I just don't know what to say anymore..." he replied vaguely.
"I don't know, either..." Sylvia agreed.
Nothing more needed to be said, the silence spoke for itself. Sylvia Valentine buried her face into her husband's shoulder and sighed deeply. After a while, James remembered something and decided to break the silence that loomed throughout the office.
"You know," he said thoughtfully, "I also noticed that you used your maiden name, Mrs. Kujaku."
"Yeah," she laughed softly and musically as a wind chime, "I was hoping that you wouldn't find out..."
"So, we are keeping the baby now, Sylvia?" he asked concernedly, lifting her head from his shoulder and placing his palms upon her shoulders firmly, forcing her to meet his eyes.
"I am," she confirmed, "But only because of you."
James gave a faint, weak smile; perhaps there was a small ray of hope for them after all. "Come on, let's go home then," he said reassuringly, and together they exited the depression and hopelessness of the hospital into the darkness of the night, into the storm, which had subsided to merely a faint drizzle from above.
Several months later...
A harried and flustered Mr. Valentine rushed through the maternity wing of the exact same hospital where so much drama had taken place just a few months previously. Nurses and their patients seemingly ignored him as he sprinted through the slick hallway; apparently, this was quite a common occurrence in this part of the hospital. He paused as he reached his final destination and stared nervously at the sterile, white hospital door, before opening it calmly and quietly so as to not disturb his wife after her ordeal earlier that morning.
The nurse attending to Mrs. Valentine smiled warmly, "Say hello to your new daughter, Mr. Valentine." He smiled appreciatively as she left the room, giving him some privacy with his wife.
He approached the hospital bed cautiously and gazed upon Sylvia, who was in a peaceful, exhausted slumber. He gasped as he saw the tiny baby girl nestled in her mother's arms comfortably, also deep in slumber. Gently and carefully, as if he was afraid to break her, James picked up his newborn daughter and cradled her lovingly in his arms. He gazed at his daughter's sleeping face; she looked so innocent and angelic, she was, literally, a miracle. It saddened him deeply that her mother didn't want her and thought that her daughter was a mistake; it had taken him a long time to completely forgive his wife for wanting to secretly get an abortion. But, nevertheless, James Valentine was immensely thankful that she was born.
He leaned over and kissed his daughter softly on the forehead, mentally apologizing to her for all the hardships that were sure to come in the future. He knew that they weren't fit to be good parents to their child; his wife was much too egocentric and temperamental, her career was more important to her than her family. He, on the other hand, was too busy and influential because of his career to be a competent father. But you can't change what happens in life, he thought to himself, you can only decide what to do about it...
As James Valentine gazed down at his newborn daughter with a smile, the baby gave a tiny, irresistibly cute yawn and opened her wide, innocent eyes. He took a sharp intake of breath as a pair of huge, gleaming, amethyst orbs stared back at him for the first time. He had never seen a pair of more beautiful eyes in his life; and never in such a unique color either. Her eyes sparkled and shined like amethysts, in such a bright, vivid violet; she was absolutely beautiful.
"Mai," he breathed softly to himself, "that's what her name will be." He didn't know how or why, but the name just came to him suddenly, like it was meant to be, even as if it was fate or destiny. But of course, being a businessman and a politician, ideas like fate or destiny were wholly preposterous to him.
A low, exhausted groan from the hospital bed suddenly grabbed his attention. He gave a quick glance over to Sylvia, who was now awakening, yawning and stretching her arms groggily. He walked over to her, still clutching his daughter in his arms, and she looked up at him with a mixture of surprise and, interestingly, lack of surprise.
"I'm sorry I'm late," he reassured her, "I was busy at the office. The press was having a field day."
Sylvia responded with an unladylike grunt, "I must look hideously ugly." She made a futile attempt to fix her hair, which was strewn about wildly across her pillow.
"You look beautiful, as always," he replied, smiling at his daughter, who gave a tiny, soft coo and closed her brilliant lavender eyes.
Sylvia gave a sharp chuckle, "You say I'm beautiful after 7 hours of labor?" Her eyes took on a hard, scornful look as she said, "You should see the horrible stretch marks I have, then."
Suddenly, James felt a startling vibration on the side of his belt; it was his pager. Sylvia saw him slightly jump, and peered up at him curiously as he checked his pager. He gingerly laid his beautiful daughter, now asleep, in her mother's arms, and whispered, "I have an important meeting at work, I'll be back later." With a trademark smile for his wife and a kiss for his baby girl, he had vanished out the door in the blink of an eye.
Mrs. Valentine, now a mother, just held her newborn daughter in her arms, staring sorrowfully and slightly scornfully at the child who would forever be only a living mistake to her, and mourning the loss of her perfect body. Her gaze averted to the afternoon sun outside her window, shining brilliant and bright, and signifying the new future ahead of her.
"If there's one thing I've learned throughout my life, it's this: No one has the power to decide what happens in life...all we can do is decide what to do, how to cope when circumstances or challenges are thrown our way. No one has the power to decide when something happens in life, all we can do is decide what to do with the time that is given to us."
A/N: Prologue Analysis:
Abortion: I know this is a really controversial subject, that's why I tried not to get too detailed about it. I got this idea from a speech I heard from a woman who actually survived an abortion when she was an infant. Today, because of the abortion, she lives with physical disorders. That really touched me, it really hit home. Just think about it for a sec. Imagine what it would be like knowing that your mother didn't want you to live, and that you shouldn't have survived to see your first birthday. The purpose of this part of the fic is really just to add the theme of mistakes and not being wanted.
Mai's parents: Sylvia Valentine was born in Japan with the last name Kujaku, but then moved to America where she became America's top model. She is completely obsessed with having a perfect body and her career. James Valentine was from a wealthy family and later became a businessman/ politician. They married each other for partly superficial and business reasons and partly attraction. He has good intentions, but is always busy with his career.
I originally wasn't going to write this part of the story, but I thought it would be interesting because no one I know of has written something like this before.
Well, that's it...I promise it will get more interesting in future chapters. Right now I'm just kinda building the foundation of the story. (O, and if you're wondering, the italics at the beginning and end are Mai's thoughts.) See ya next update! R+R! Jewel