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The weight of her hand was the opposite of the weight I felt in my heart. My heart felt heavy. Each breath I took felt heavy. I’d done this to her. To the woman I was starting to love.
I didn’t know when my obsession had changed to something more. But it had. And it had changed me. I didn’t know what to do about it.
This was new to me, caring about someone so deeply. My mother was the only person I had ever cared about. Her death had taken something from me.
Love, feelings, and emotions—they weren’t part of my life anymore.
Something had changed in me, though. I looked down at Mya’s face and stroked her hair. She had changed me.
This woman, this annoying, stubborn, vengeful woman, had found a place in my heart.
When I married her, it was so that she could be mine. But now I saw that I was hers.
I looked over at her and my eyes came to rest on her stomach. My hand shook as I laid it against the hospital gown, wondering if my little girl could feel my hand resting against her mother’s belly.
I couldn’t remember how far along the doctors had said she was, but it did something to me to know that she was in this state, pregnant with my child.
It was a wonder that I couldn’t really wrap my head around.
I need to do better. I need to be better.
The words echoed in my head, and I knew I believed them.
This kid of ours was going to be my “do-over”. I would create a life for my child, for Mya, that wasn’t full of violence, secrecy, and death.
I didn’t know how, but I would.
“I swear to you, Mya. Things will be different.”
She didn’t say a word. Her face relaxed, but her eyes were still tightly closed. Without thinking, I traced a hand down her cheek. She was something…my Mya.
There was a lot that I needed to do, much that I needed to change.
My eyes rested on her meager belongings that were folded up in a chair. Her bag, her clothes, her underwear, and a crumpled piece of paper.
I frowned. I walked over to where the piece of paper was and picked it up. Instantly, I recognized the number scribbled across it.
Without thinking, I wadded up the paper and reached for my phone. I glanced at Mya and stepped toward the door, not wanting to leave her, but not wanting her to hear what I had to say.
When Joseph picked up, I said, “Find Dr. Kali. He’s interfered too much. I need you to take care of him.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Mya
Fear was my constant companion.
I never knew how it felt to be so afraid for someone else. I still felt chills down my spine, “…take care of him.”
I saw him pick up the note. I only pretended to be asleep. I was awake as soon as I had felt his hand on my face. The only reason I hadn’t opened my eyes was because I hadn’t wanted him to stop touching me.
I felt conflicted, wanting his touch, his care, but also finding myself unable to trust him.
Some days, I felt trapped, and on other days, I felt like maybe I should give in, be the person he needed me to be. It would be easier that way.
I could let go of my anger toward him and his family, and just embrace life as his wife. Would that have been so bad? He was a complicated individual, but that didn’t make him my enemy, right?
I didn’t know if I was trying to make myself feel better for slowly developing feelings for a man I should have hated or if I was finding a reason to connect with the man whose child I was pregnant with.