Love’s Suicide(34)
Author: Jennifer Foor

He looked down at my belly and touched it with both hands. I ran my hands through his hair when he kissed my bare stomach tenderly. “You don’t have to, Katy. I can wait for as long as you want me to. I didn’t do this to push you into movin’ forward. We’ve got plenty of time to be together.”

I cupped his face into my hands, knowing that he was the best I was ever going to get. “You should never make a bride beg for it on her wedding night.”

For the record, I wasn’t considering how difficult it was going to be to be intimate at nine months pregnant. Bobby climbed into the bed beside me and pulled me into his arms. I expected him to undress and get right to it, after making him wait for so long. Instead, he kissed me slowly and pulled away to look into my eyes. “This is all I need tonight.”

I wrapped my arms around him and felt safe. Bobby was going to take care of us and it was the most important thing to me.

My due date was September 10th and I was in a nervous wreck when I hadn’t gone into labor yet. One thing I was happy about was that the baby was without a doubt Brooks’.

As I prepared for my first year without the Valentines, on the anniversary of my parent’s death, I knew if I could just get through the day in one piece, I’d be okay. My biggest fear was going into labor on a day where I was haunted by death and despair.

My water broke that morning, and six hours later I was pushing out a seven pound, seven ounce little girl. With Bobby and Sarah by my side, I was able to get through it while being completely grateful I wasn’t alone.

After they’d done her measurements and gotten her cleaned up, I saw them walking her back in my direction. My heart was beating so fast, knowing that I was moments away from feeling her for the first time. I held my arms out and watched her being set inside of them.

She was the most beautiful thing that I’d ever seen in my life. Her head of hair was light but was still apparent and her gray eyes, that I knew would change, were alert and looking right up at me. “Hi. I’m your mommy.” I was a babbling mess and she just kept blinking and looking at me. “I love you so much. I don’t care what I have to do, I promise to make you happy. I’ll do anything for you.”

I hadn’t discussed her name with anyone, because I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. I knew once she was there, they couldn’t argue with me.

Brooklyn Micheala Valentine was born at four in the afternoon on September 11th and I knew my parents were with me in that hospital room. She was a gift to me from them and believing it made the moment the most special experience of my life. For a day that had held so much pain for me it was immediately replaced with something so much more powerful.

Named after her birth father, she was healthy, with ten tiny fingers and ten tiny toes. I knew I had to share, but I couldn’t stop holding her and looking at every wrinkle remembering the night that she was made. She was a real life miracle and I’d never felt so blessed before.

Out of tragedy I’d been given this beautiful gift and I was going to spend my whole life giving her everything she could ever want.

Bobby took on the responsibility of being a father just as I suspected. Even though I wasn’t working, he still took turns with late night feedings and diaper changes and I admired him for loving us when I knew he really didn’t have to.

Brooklyn became his princess and after one month he lived and breathed for her. I think that’s when I started to really fall for him. I’d held a wall up, unable to accept the things that I couldn’t control. Bobby had saved me and through the fire, he’d brought me peace.

Seeing him with Brooklyn reminded me of how lucky we were and I knew it was time to let go. I wanted to love Bobby and be a family, but for some reason whenever I felt like I did, my mind went back to Brooks. I kept telling myself that time would heal my wounds, but then again, I’d loved him my whole life and I wasn’t sure if I’d ever be able to stop.

Chapter 19

May 2012

“Hey, it’s me. We’re out of milk. Do you think you could pick some up on your way home from work?”

Bobby said something under his breath. “Anything else?”

“No. Just milk. I’ve already started dinner.” I’d been trying to have it ready every night when he got home from working all day.

“What are we havin’ tonight?”

“Meatloaf. I figured I’d use that ground venison that you’d thawed out.”

“What?” He was angry. “That was for me to make chili for when we get back from turkey huntin’. That’s just great, Katy. Thanks for askin’ first.”

“I’ll just get another two pounds out of the freezer. It’s not a big deal, really.”

“It is a big damn deal when I had it out for a purpose. Can you do anything without pissing me off?”

I hung up the phone before he could say anything else that was hateful. We’d been married since August and for the first six months everything was perfect. He was a good father and did anything for me that I’d ever asked. But lately, something had changed. I knew what it was, but didn’t know what to do to make things better.

A couple months ago he’d come home with flowers. I greeted him with a long kiss and soon we were both shedding our clothes. Bobby was good lover, as long as he was being equally pleased. He wasn’t the type of guy to get between a woman’s legs, give her a good time, and then call it a night. Bobby was about pleasing Bobby first.

That particular night he was extremely horny. He practically ripped off my clothes before we’d made it to the bedroom. I was lifted up against the wall in the hallway, feeling his stiff erection pushing against my entrance.

Since he didn’t come home like that often, I figured I’d go with it and give him a good time, after all, we’d been living as husband and wife for a while and things were good between us.

Once he’d carried me into the bedroom, he jumped on top of me and looked me right in the eyes. “Tell me you love me.”

I hesitated, because, up to that point, I’d only felt a deep admiration for him. I could see me loving him, but it still hadn’t happened.

I felt his large hand coming across my face before I could respond. “I said tell me you love me, bitch. How long do I have to wait?”

I started crying and reached up to touch my burning cheek. He pulled my hand away and got up in my face. At this point I was getting scared. He’d never laid a hand on me, and to say that I was frightened would have been an understatement.