Текст книги "Never Give Up"
Автор книги: Heidi Lis
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Текущая страница: 6 (всего у книги 16 страниц)
Micah’s hands open up to me. “Let's try to make this work. I want to be friends with you, Elsa. I want you in my life, any possible way I can have you and if it’s just as friends, then that’s fine, but if it’s more…”
He closes his hands letting his words trail off. I’m not sure what’s going on in his mind.
Stunned and damn nearly speechless, I open my mouth a few times yet nothing comes out. I try again. “What do you mean by that?”
Very slowly, he raises his eyes to meet mine. “Just what I said, if I can’t have more, then friend’s it is.”
“You would want more, with me? Even after all of this time?” I ask, bewildered. I’d be lying if I said that the idea does not excite a part of me, but that same part scares the shit out of me.
“Are you honestly asking me if I still care about you? Come on El, I just told you minutes ago I loved you. You belong in my arms, not his.” He says directing his finger towards the living room. “This may be fucked up, but if I had my choice…I would choose you, always you.”
With my mouth held open, I gasp holding my trembling fingers to my lips. “What about Liza?” I whisper.
Micah smiles with a deep sigh. “I care for Liza, and up till today, I was developing deeper feelings for her. Then suddenly, the girl I never stopped loving, walked back into my life. Hard to just walk away from that, pretty girl.” His eyes dare me, his lips call to me and his head shakes at me.
Sobbing, my voice cracks, “We can’t,” I say continuing to shake my head as if disagreeing with him wholeheartedly. “You have Liza, and up until last weekend I was alone and sad. I gave you my final goodbye, I finally let Nick inside. Now, I’m confused and pissed and happy as hell you are here in front of me. What the hell am I to do with that, Micah?” I can’t help but sit on my bed allowing my body to shake. An inner war consumes me. How do I just turn my feelings off for Nick, but then again, how do I just walk away, knowing Micah is back?
“Show me, Elsa,” Micah says with a reluctant sigh.
Confused, I angle my head, unsure of what he meant. “Show you what?”
He then points to his hip. “Your tattoo, what did you get to remember me by?
Oh no, he’s getting too close, no way in hell am I showing him that. Not sure why or how he remembers why I got a tattoo, then Liza’s conversations remind me how and why.
My eyes gaze long into his, pleading. “I can’t Micah, please don’t ask that of me. It’s more for me than anyone else.”
“I’m shattered knowing you’ve been in so much pain. Baby, I want to make it better. I want you to give me a chance to make it all better.”
My head screams at me ‘Hell No.'
“I can’t.” Knowing my heart is also screaming at me, ‘stupid, wake up he is finally here.’
“I need to wrap my head around all of this, our decisions also affect two great people. Do you remember you’re with Liza?”
“Pretty girl, I’m here for you, always. Like I said, even if it’s only as friends. I’ll be the best goddamn friend you’ll ever have. Just know I’m not walking away from you again, not ever…again.”
His arm around my shoulder is his way of letting me know he’s serious. Resting my head against his chest, I close my eyes and breathe him in deep. The calming effect he has on me, is beyond the best I’ve felt in five long years.
“Thanks for telling me your story, knowing you did care for me, even though it hurts like hell, means a lot. At least I know I was not crazy.” Just knowing he loved me, gives me a small amount of satisfaction.
Breathing deeply, Micah says, “Never crazy. I never went a day without you crossing my mind. Please know that.”
“Okay.”
“I better go out there before Nick comes storming in here.” He says with a slight laugh.
Turning, I move to get a better look at him. “What do we tell them?” I say with a nod of my head toward the living room.
“Nothing,” he says with a shake of his head.
“What?” I ask snapping my head back.
“Let's just leave it as we had a talk that was five years overdue. That simple.” Micah kisses the top of my head. “Just know, I carry some deep seated feelings for you. I’m here for you Elsa, always.”
I tenderly respond. “Thank you for that, Micah.” I give him my most genuine smile. For now, I feel okay with all of this.
“Just remember, I’m here for you, if you’re ever, ready to pick up the pieces of what we had before. I’m not sure how things will turn out with Liza, knowing you’re back in my life. Just know this, none of what happens with her is your fault. I just can’t promise she’s my future.”
I don’t reply, because I have no words. There goes my okay feeling. To be honest, my heart is too preoccupied with my unstable emotions to worry about theirs. I have to consider my well-being, first and foremost. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want Nick or Liza hurt, but Micah needs to try at least to get me out of his head. Any promises of what could be, need to be forgotten. Too much has happened, and I’m afraid that ship has sailed…long ago.
I agree, it will be harder having him in my life instead of him out of it, but I need to stay strong and remember our lives took different paths for a reason.
I watch him as he slowly opens my door and escapes out closing the door behind him. The minute I hear my door click shut, my tears once again descend. Not a minute later my door re-opens, but a different pair of arms are pulling me against a warm chest. These set of arms, although strong, and inviting, are not the arms I seek. Knowing what is good for you and what your body wants, can be two entirely different things. Moments ago my lips were reminded of what they had missed for so long.
With my eyes clenched tight, I desperately try to hang on to the feelings of Micah’s body pressed against mine. His lips are caressing mine, his hands pressed firmly into my skin, and his soft words whispered into my ear. The internal war to push him away is met with my desire and yearning to wrap myself in him, instead. I want to surrender, every ounce of me as I yearn for the chance to have him take control of my body again. My aching heart, combined with the wetness between my legs, only prove how much I want his hands and mouth on every inch of my body. My dream however, is interrupted.
“Are you okay, El? He didn’t screw with your head, did he?” Nick’s voice is sounding predatory.
A garbled laugh escapes because I was just thinking about Micah screwing with me and it’s exactly what I want. Just not the way Nick is talking about. Oh God, I need to get that idea out of my mind, this minute.
Biting my lip, I try to control my heightened arousal. I need to be alone, and I need Nick to leave, so I can think straight.
Mustering a yawn, I let it linger. “I’m okay, just tired and ready to go to bed. I’m mentally exhausted.”
“Want me to stay with you, tonight? Liza left with him.” He says as hope shines from his eyes.
He says the exact opposite of what I wanted him to say.
Sighing, I realize he’s so upset he can’t even say his name. “You can call him by his name, Nick. It's Micah, and I’m not going to fall apart every time I hear it.” Taking a nice, slow breath, I plead with him. “You go home, I need to be alone.”
Pausing a moment, he finally gets it. “Okay,” he says nodding at me. “I get it, just call me if you need to talk.”
“I will and thank you. Nick, you’ve always been here for me.”
Walking toward the door, he pauses and turns back. “I’ll always be here for you.” He says as if wanting to say more, but he doesn’t. He smiles one last time and walks out.
Finally by myself, I’m suddenly aware how alone I really am. I strip out of my clothes, put on a pair of shorts and a tank, and find my way under my covers. The lights are off, and like every other night, I’m seeking comfort by gazing at the bright, night sky. The moon shadows are like a flash of life, finding home in the depth of the darkness in my life.
I’ve always found comfort in the darkness. In the shadows, my cries go unnoticed. I can fall apart, and no one is the wiser. Over time, I’ve found that I’m most comfortable in the dark. I can mask who I am, and I’m not judged, or frowned upon, I don’t disappoint anyone, either. It’s just me all, alone. Years of being alone, help me guard my heart.
Tonight, I find no comfort in gazing up at the moon. No, tonight I feel stripped, bare and exposed. I’m lost, having no clue how to act around a guy I have loved for so long. How can I watch him in the arms of my friend, and not come unglued? When he touches her, am I going to be able to smile and be okay with it? It’d be pretty damn hard to tell yourself its okay to not want those hands to yourself instead.
While trying to fall asleep, I’m so afraid, because I’ve got no idea what to do. I need a plan. A plan to be happy that my friend is in the arms of the guy she adores, knowing I’m in love with him.
As I drift into slumber, I’m being pulled in a different direction. My body jerks, and moans escape my throat. I’m not sure what’s going on with me in my dream until I hear it. It’s faint, but it’s gradually becoming clearer. It’s the cry of a newborn. I know that cry, I’m being pulled back to April 5th exactly four years ago today.
OH GOD, MY MUSCLES ache, and I’m sore. I’m white knuckling the sheets under me with my eyes clenched shut, wishing like hell I had someone with me. The whole time I’m being stitched up I’m silently praying I’ll get through this day with my sanity. I’m desperate to have someone hold my hand, telling me everything will be okay. I wished, but looking around at the sterile glances and less than warm smiles, they don’t comfort me one bit. My body is shaking like a leaf, every tug of the stitches reminds me how split open I was and it damn near has me hyperventilating.
Hearing his cries, I’m frantically trying to get a look at him. They took him right away, acting as if he’s not at all mine. They know he’s being given up for adoption, and I’m strangled with the possibility they may never let me see him. His arms and legs move wildly, every cry escaping his mouth is a dagger piercing my heart. He’s not just a baby, no, this baby is mine. No matter if it’s only for a short time.
With every tear that descends my cheeks, they are filled with joy and pain, each just as strong having to accept what will never be. I’m alone, frightened, and at the moment, having my heart ripped to shreds. Finding out he’s a boy after all this time, hurts a bit more. The idea of knowing Micah has a son unsettles me more. I can picture them together, holding hands, playing ball. Realizing this will never happen, I slowly try to distance my emotions. To survive this alone, I’ll have to try like hell to numb every emotion I know will hit me like a tidal wave.
The moment he tore his way into the world, he made his presence known. He was energetic and lively. A full head of hair from what few glances I had of him. The nursing staff paid little or no attention to me. They just carried on charting his apgar scores, never once pausing to update me on his condition. Unlike most other mothers in the delivery unit, I’ve got no husband, no boyfriend, or even a mom with me.
No, my parents made this decision for me. They went ballistic when I informed them I was indeed pregnant, at sixteen. Repeatedly, they told me I was too young for the responsibility of raising a child alone. No way could I care for a baby when I was a mere child myself. Micah’s leaving, forced my hand to do this by myself. He had left right before I found out. Shocked, surprised and out of my mind scared, I had hoped I could find comfort and understanding, with my parents by my side. Well, I was dead wrong and being an only child, I had no one else. That made me miss my grandparents even more. My grandmother, Faye, she would have stood by my side without question, but my reality was what it was. No close friends, I spent what free time I had with Micah.
No amount of time could have prepared me for, the looks on my parents faces. To say I was a disappointment, well that would have been a notch higher from what they felt right then. With not an ounce of understanding, they informed me my baby will be their dirty little secret. They devised up a plan to not embarrass them further. Not a few days later, they stopped bickering with one another and joined forces to isolate me from my life as I knew it.
They pulled me out of school, home-schooled me, and by the time I was starting to show, they shipped me to my aunt Peggy’s house a mere fifty miles away. They called it a ‘six-month vacation.’ Who the hell were they kidding? This was no six-month vacation! I was isolated to the four walls of my room, sterile white, of course. Most days I hid away watching television or reading books. When my dear aunt returned home from work, I went straight to my room. Less hassle that way. The days were long, and the nights were even longer. I never felt more alone. They were hiding me until I gave birth and gave my baby to the adoption agency. My aunt, civil at best, was as warm as my parents were. Peggy wholeheartedly agreed with them. To her, I was a loose girl who found herself knocked up by an older boy. When in reality, they had it backwards. I was a girl in love, and yes, although not planned it still happened. Life happens, and not always according to plan, either.
I tried time and again to explain to them; that Micah was no boy crush. He was my other half, I knew it, and had even explained it to Micah himself one afternoon. The reason I knew was simple, I’ve always believed whenever I found my soul mate, my reason for breathing, I would feel it all the way to my bones. It’s a feeling not easily pushed aside or thrown away. It’s there, and it grows until it reaches your soul, forever leaving its mark. Micah did all of that and more. No amount of time or space between us could ever touch or undo what I felt for Micah Taylor. To put it simply, he was the one. I didn’t care if I was sixteen or sixty, I knew it to be true.
The hard facts were, a loving couple would teach my little boy all the things Micah and I wouldn’t. They would wipe his tears when he cries, teach him to walk and write. In my mind, he would grow up being the spitting image of Micah. Although somewhat sad, it’s this thought that comforted me over the last few very lonely months. Our baby could not be with us, but at least he’d be alive. Just knowing he’s out there meant that Micah and I existed. We loved one another enough to create him. He’s my proof that love does exist.
Later that night, my depression and sobs tore through my body in a fit of shakes. Not having one single moment throughout my pregnancy of feeling love or even being wanted has left its mark. Scars on the outside now match the scars on the inside. I’ve now lost my last connection with him…forever gone. During my last trimester, I spent time running my hands over my basketball of a belly knowing a part of Micah was inside me. This connection and bond kept me comforted when I felt my heart and soul losing its grip on reality.
My door gradually opened as my nurse, Alisha Harkins, walked in, pausing to look behind her making sure she came into my room unseen.
“Elsa, sweet girl, I could not forgive myself if I let them take your son without you holding him, at least once.”
Walking over to stand next to my bed, as if it’s a natural thing, she hands me the baby cradled in her arms. My eyes fight back tears of nervousness, and my breathing ceased when I saw the baby in a pink hat. Confused, because my heart wished for a baby, but not this baby. My heart ached for a baby boy. Looking up at her utterly confused, I’m not sure why she mixed up the babies. Did she forget I had a boy? With a shake of my head, looking at her I ask, “I don’t understand, why did you bring me this little girl?” Keeping my voice soft making sure not to wake the baby in her arms.
Her eyes welled with tears. “No sweet child, this is your baby. The adoption agency had us put a pink hat on him so you could not pick him if you went to the nursery. It’s protocol in situations like these. He’s your baby boy. He needed to be sure who is real mommy is before the agency picks him up in the morning.”
She barely finished speaking when her tears now matched my own. Knowing she was most likely putting her job on the line, for what…a sixteen-year-old girl? I could not have loved her anymore at this moment. No amount of telling her how thankful I was could ever be enough. No amount of hugs could match it, either.
“Oh my God, you did this for me?” I ask, not taking my eyes off of my baby. “He’s so beautiful.” I had to admit, he was cute as a button. Gently rocking him in my arms, I trace his little hand with my finger. The instant he feels my touch, he reached out and grabbed a hold. Tightening his grip unleashed a new set of tears and shivers as every emotion I can think of washes over me. He’s holding onto my finger as if it’s his lifeline, it’s a feeling I’ll never forget. No one will ever take this moment from us, not my parents, not the doctors, no one. This is my moment to savor, my son, my little boy. Watching him grasping my finger, I freaking love it and my heart rate spikes to an all-time high.
My once flowing tears of sorrow, morphed into happiness. Cradling him close, I kiss his head, and inhale his new born scent. My body easily recognizes him, it aches for him. Tightness burns my midsection, my uterus contracts, and my boobs throb they hurt so badly. I don’t waste a minute telling him how much I love him, how much I hate that he’s being taken from me. I even break open my heart more, telling him all about his daddy. When Micah’s name escapes my lips, I’m haunted by the fact he has no idea he even has a son. Oh, God… Micah… please forgive me for what I’m being forced to do… Know I had no choice.
As my mind is consumed with Micah, I look into my son’s eyes, and I rely on every ounce of strength I have to tell him the things Micah would never get the chance to. “One day, you will be just like your daddy. He’s the most remarkable person I know. He doesn’t know about you, but I know he would love you as much as I do.” My continual, vast-flowing tears make it difficult to see his cute little face. His cheeks are so big he looks like a cherub. Somewhat chuckling, I remember back to my own baby pictures. I had the same cheeks. He’s darling, just damn perfect.
Nurse Harkins, hardly says a word, she’s allowing us to have this uninterrupted time. Walking out of the room, she periodically comes back to check on us. She even let me feed him, while she takes care of her other patients. She’s truly an angel.
“Oh sweetie, I see a lot of new mothers every day. Most days, this is the best job to have, to see a new life come into this crazy world. Unfortunately, a few of those new moms I don’t have a lot of confidence in. It’s hard for me to put into words to explain this the right way. The hardest part is being more excited about the moment when the mother you’re helping seems not as overjoyed. Those situations are few, but they do happen. You’re the exception, though. It’s bittersweet, more of a tragedy. All alone, having no one by your side. I don’t know your story, and you don’t need to tell me. It’s written all over your face, in your eyes, and it spills out of you with every word you say to your son. You would have made an incredible mother, and one day I hope you do. For now, though, God, has another plan. You are doing the best you can child, and I’m so proud of you. Takes a hell of a lot of courage to sit here knowing your time is limited with him, yet you are making sure he knows how much you love him. Keep it with you, always.”
GASPING FOR AIR and drenched with sweat, I sit up straight in bed and reach for my throat. I had not dreamt of that night for a while, but I’m sure seeing Micah is why I’m having it tonight. How do I tell him? Do I tell him or do I never say a word? I’ve got no clue, and right now, I don’t want to think about it. I’m desperate to lie down and remember what it felt like to have him in my arms, having him reach out for my finger. I’m going to do just what Nurse Harkins told me to do… ‘keep him with you, always.’
Closing my eyes, I whisper, “Good night Michael, my baby, my son…always and forever.”
