Author's note:

When I posted the previous chapter there was a typo which I fixed the next day. I mistakenly typed pent-house instead of mansion. Just to clarify, prior to this chapter, they were living in a grand mansion but starting here they're now living in the pent-house. I was getting ahead of myself there :)

Chapter Sixteen

Four and a half months later

Christian POV

I was in bed watching TV when she walked out of the bathroom wearing a black lace nightie that hit mid-thigh. It wasn't one I'd seen before, this one was meant for her new growing figure. It covered enough to be considered decent, but her breasts were much larger now, her cleavage enticing no matter what she wore. I started feeling something down in my groin but then my gaze settled on her baby bump and my desire for her flew out the window.

She lay on her side, facing me and I tried to ignore how much of her breasts were exposed at the moment. She ran her fingers up my chest and leaned in close, a clear invitation to jump her bones.

"Time to turn off the TV," She mumbled in a throaty seductive voice.

In response, I pursed my lips and turned to stare unseeing at the TV. I truth, I wasn't attracted to her anymore. I wasn't trying to be a dick, I just didn't feel much of anything at the moment; actually, I hadn't felt anything in many months. In some ways, I was dead inside. I continued to stare at the TV, remote control in hand while she just lay there, her gaze shifting between me and the TV screen waiting for me to turn it off.

"I think the baby kicked!" She said with sudden emotion, and I blinked. That was the last thing I expected her to say. "Want to feel?" The hesitancy in her voice was sweet but I stubbornly resisted its pull.

I shook my head, threw the covers off, and headed for the bathroom, all in one fluid motion. I was barely aware of the look of profound disappointment in her eyes. I couldn't help it, I knew I was shutting her out but I just didn't know anymore. I didn't know how to be me anymore, I didn't know how to be us.

Ana POV

Tears started falling, the sound of the shower muffling my sobs. My body heaved and mourned for the loss of our relationship. Christian and I hadn't had sex since I started showing. It's very hard living like this, going through the motions, knowing that my husband doesn't want me in that way. How I wish I could turn back time and get a do-over. I know, I sound like a broken record, but it's true. I can't help but regret the choices I've made. It's all my fault; everything is my fault, I thought as I reached for the remote to turn the TV off.

By the time Christian got out of the shower, I was half-asleep. Before getting into bed, he turned off the TV. For a moment, our eyes connected in the dark, but then he crawled under the sheets and turned his back to me. I lay on my own, staring at his back for what seemed like hours. Memories drifted through my mind; my lips remembered the feel of his the first time we kissed, the first time we made love. The memories continued to drift and play in my head with tears in my eyes.

How had things gone so wrong?

I buried my face in my pillow and let the flood gates open, hot tears spilling down my cheeks. The pain of all that I lost—my father's fingers intertwined with mine. And me wanting to go out and play, not realizing until it was too late his soul was already gone. The pain of leaving my family behind, the pain of beatings endured in the name of love, and the pain of being rejected by the one I love.

Oh, Christian!

The aching in my chest and throat was raw, and I didn't know if I could bear it. How could I continue to lay in bed with him night after night knowing my own husband found me unattractive...maybe even repulsive? How could I?! I wanted to run away from the grief and I prayed that the pain would eventually diminish.

Oh, God, how had things gone so wrong?

Maybe that was not the real question.

Maybe the real question was, what has gone right?

Everything about the last few months had been tough. We lost everything. Well, almost everything. I still remember the day we were forced to leave our home and I said good-bye to the hummingbirds and the cozy breakfast nook. I was sad because the nook and the library had become a place of refuge for me. Still, my former life as a nomad had taught me not to get too attached to places. Christian, on the other hand, did not have the same advantage. He took it quite hard. He started drinking, some days he crawled in bed under the covers and watched TV all day. It pained me to see him like this.

I figured my job as a wife was to be understanding and wait it out. Wait for Christian to come around. As it turned out, we weren't completely penniless. But Christian didn't see it that way at all, in his mind he was as good as destitute. However, with the money he had saved over the years, he was able to secure a place for us to live, a nice pent-house with a state of the art CCVT system.

Christian insisted we maintain our same standard of living and to that effect, he took money out of his CD accounts and investment portfolios. And even though he said he was applying online for various positions, he refused to consider any job offer that he considered beneath him. In the meantime, Steinberg assured us that he was working hard on contesting the will.

Steinberg went to court on our behalf but Elena's attorney had a few tricks under his sleeve. As it turned out, Elena had a collection of love letters that Carrick had written her over the years. In a couple of them, the idea of marriage was discussed. Elena's attorney was trying to prove that the letters meant Carrick's marriage to Elena was a legitimate one.

Last month we moved to a three-story pent-house. I found it roomy and delightful, but Christian wasn't happy. I honestly didn't understand. Having experienced both being immensely rich and incredibly poor had given me some perspective. Being rich does not guarantee happiness; in fact, money is not all that great, especially if you let your ego get in the way. And despite what you might expect, being poor has its advantages; those with nothing to lose*** lose nothing.

Gail and Taylor were the best, they moved with us to the pent-house and even said they would agree to a smaller salary. Christian wouldn't hear of it, he insisted on paying them what he always paid them.

Still, Christian was very pessimistic, calling our financial situation unstable. I had to admit sometimes his actions didn't make much sense to me.

"I can find a job somewhere, I can wait tables or maybe answer the phone," I told him one day. I was looking at things optimistically, being financially deprived had given me strength. The way I saw it, there was only one way for me to go but up. It didn't matter what kind of job I took, sooner or later, I would start climbing the ladder.

But Christian wouldn't hear of it; he told me in no uncertain terms that there was no way he was allowing it.

….

The following morning

Today I had an appointment with my new OB-gyn. Normally, Taylor would have driven me here but he'd left earlier this morning with Christian so I had to take a taxi to the clinic. Admittedly, I was worried about Christian. And it wasn't just the state of our relationship. Or how most of the time he behaved as though the baby didn't exist. I was worried about Christian's emotional well-being, I suspected he was depressed. He showed all the classical signs. Given that I had grown up with a mother who had gone through recurring bouts of depression, I knew the signs all too well.

I wasn't doing well either. At thirty-four weeks, this pregnancy was taking a toll on me physically and emotionally. Swollen feet, sciatic pain, and anxiety about the future were my constant companions. I rarely allow myself about the baby, every day I go through the motions, trying not to think much about my situation. However, my doctor just informed me that she believes the baby was small for her age and has ordered additional testing.

"Is she going to be okay?" I asked. My heart thumped in my chest as if it was a hummingbird trapped inside. Dr. Smith knew that I was putting my baby up for adoption and that I've already selected a couple to adopt my baby.

Dr. Smith gave me a rueful smile and said due to the low level of amniotic fluid, she would need to do a non-stress test. The nurse came in and took additional measurements. I bit my lip and wondered if all this had to do with the fact that I started this pregnancy being underweight and so far, I had failed to gain the recommended amount of weight.

For the duration of the test, I had to remain still sitting in a chair strapped to an external baby monitor. I found this test to was making me nervous and stressed out, although the nurses kept telling me this was a great opportunity to chill out and relax. They encouraged me to lay back in my chair with a selection of glossy-covered magazines.

I picked up an issue of Fit Pregnancy with an eye-catching headline: Your New Body, Sexier Than Ever. The very pregnant woman on the cover looked so happy and radiant; I bet her husband worships her body and tends to her every need. Just flipping through the pages of this stupid magazine had me drowning in a sea of tears. The sting of rejection from last night was still too raw. Beside me, Gail gave my arm a reassuring pat. She truly had been an angel these past few months, I don't know what I would have done without her. Of course, she had no idea what I was going through, she just assumed I was worried about the pregnancy.

"Good news, you passed," the nurse told me. "We still need to get another fifteen minutes on the machine for the records. Oh, and Dr. Smith still wants you to come back next week for another test."

I drew in a shaky breath. The future was so uncertain. Plus, I hated these sessions, they were nerve-wracking. Listening to the baby's steady beat of the baby's heartbeat brought me back to the here and now. I was fighting a battle that was going to be next to impossible to win. Every time I saw her image on the ultrasound machine or listening to her heartbeat on the baby monitor, my heart did a little flutter. Admittedly, as the days turned into weeks and I got to feel the baby doing somersaults inside of me, I found myself between a rock and hard place. I loved the baby AND at the same time, I was struggling to remain appropriately detached as all the experts recommended.

I needed to keep reminding myself of my reasons for giving her away. It was for the best. Yes, it was the best for her. We'd found a couple that wanted her, a couple that was more than willing to give her all the love and devotion she deserved. Over the last few months, I'd gotten to know Jane and her husband Paul, they were a wonderful couple who deserved the happiness of having a family of their own. They'd struggled for so many years, suffered three heart-wrenching miscarriages. I couldn't have possibly have asked for a better set of parents for my baby. I felt lucky to count them as my friends; they were the only friends I had in this country aside from Gail and Taylor. And I was happy knowing I was contributing to their happiness.

I hated going back and forth on this. But there was a part of me ( a very small part of me indeed) that wanted to keep the baby. Even though this baby was a tie to Jose, my past was an ocean away. I took comfort in the fact that Jose was not coming back into my life in the foreseeable future.

On the other hand, I had just turned twenty, I had my whole life ahead of me. One day, Christian and I would have our own children. But I had to let this little one go; I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that keeping this baby would be like re-reading the same page of a novel over and over again. When all I needed to start a new chapter of my life with a clean slate.

"Ana," Gail said, her hand once again reaching to touch my arm. For a fraction of a second, I had almost fallen asleep but my eyes quickly fluttered open at her loving touch. "It's true that when you start a new chapter of your life you end your previous one," she went on as though she'd been reading my mind. "But...the thing is, when you start your new chapter, the previous one doesn't have to end as though it had never existed. Instead, it adds to the chapter you're going to start and plays a more significant role in your life."

"Even if it ruins my chances for a perfect new chapter?"

Gail gave me a knowing look as if she could grasp the truth I was not able to see. "Oh, Ana, I remember being your age and thinking that way. But life is not a romance novel, life never gives you picture-perfect chapters."

Author's note:

Many Thanks to T Traveller for kindly looking over this chapter and sharing her ideas with me.