So, when she exited their apartment building one morning and found Simon leaning against the wall waiting for her, she was not surprised. He had a navy scarf tied around his neck, and his face was tinged red, as though he had been standing in the cold for some time. Even though it was late April, the frigid winter had not yet relented.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” he said, his voice even but his eyes showing his concern.
“I have,” she said, staring at the ground.
“Is it because it’s mine?”
She whipped her head to meet his eyes. “It’s not.”
“How do you know?”
She hoped the baby was Simon’s. She hoped it with every fiber of her being. He was a good man, far better than Mathieu, and she could admit that to herself now even if she couldn’t have before. A child with Simon’s heart had a much better chance in life than one with Mathieu’s. Yet she had made her choice, and she was locked into it now.
“I just do.”
He took a step closer to her. “But we didn’t use—”
“Simon, it’s not. And thank the gods. How could we ever explain that to Mathieu or ?lise?”
He looked hurt. “So right after we were together, you jumped back into bed with him?”
She let out a slow breath. “Isn’t that what you did with ?lise?” she said, her tone not accusatory but matter of fact.
“I would break up with her and raise this baby with you if it’s mine.”
And she knew he would. That’s why she hoped the life growing inside of her was half of this man standing before her. A man so good that he made up for her bad.
She smiled appreciatively. “Fortunately, none of us have to do that.”
Softly, he said, “I would break up with her and take care of you and the child even if it’s not mine.”
Nita could not fathom how a person like Simon could exist. So kind and resolute in his goodness. She had to believe that it was something he had been born with. Something she had not. Something she hoped the baby would have inside of it.
She put her hand against his cheek, wishing she could agree to his generous offer and change her story. If only he had the power to do that. But she worried more that she’d change his. That she’d drag him down to where she was and he would lose himself trying to save her.
“Mathieu would never allow that,” she said. “And it would not be a good life for you either. Simon, you should be free to pursue every dream you have in life. Go make beautiful art and beautiful babies with a woman who is less complicated.”
His face fell, the resolve seeping out of his expression. He thrust his hands into his pockets, seemingly disappointed by their conversation but accepting her decision. He motioned for them to walk down the street in the direction she had been heading when she first exited. “Mathieu seems very excited,” he said.
“He’s been talking about a child for a while and was hoping I would come around. It seems the decision was made for us.”
“You didn’t want to be a mom?”
“I didn’t know.”
“And now?”
“As I said, the decision has been made.”
“I think you would make a great mom.”
He had no idea how wrong he was, but she said, “Thank you.”
“Has Mathieu cleaned up his act?”
She shrugged. “He’s being very attentive.”
“I meant has he stopped with the drugs?”
Nita paused. It hadn’t been like before, where he would get high and stay in bed for days on end, but after she learned about his secret stash of pills, he became more comfortable pulling them out, and she hadn’t been able to resist the urge to join him. The feeling of floating away for even a short while was euphoric. She knew all too well the sleepless nights filled with noisy crying and dirty diapers that awaited them, only this time there would be no servants to help her with the child-rearing. She’d convinced herself that if she didn’t indulge too often, it would be fine, tucking away the voices in her head that knew she was harming her baby and the ones even deeper within her that said it wouldn’t be a bad thing to lose the baby and keep it from entering such an unstable life, but she couldn’t share any of this with Simon.
Instead, she said, “People don’t change overnight, but he’s gotten better.”
As they neared the corner where Simon would continue straight to go to his apartment and Nita needed to veer left to go to the market, Simon turned to her and said, “If you ever need anything, I want you to come to me. It doesn’t matter what it is.”
Her heart ached for this man who was willing to offer her so much more than she had ever deserved.
“We’re going to be okay,” Nita said, trying to convince herself as much as Simon.
Around the fifth month of her pregnancy, Nita was now showing in her normal clothes. Mathieu had tired of being the devoted boyfriend and future father and had moved from the ecstasy pills to powder cocaine that he would snort off a small mirror. Nita had tried it once and found herself energized and happy. The two of them had had so much fun that night, jumping on the bed like schoolchildren until they were out of breath. She was surprised they hadn’t broken the springs. Or the baby. She was constantly conflicted, wanting to do better by the child than she had done by Sophie but also afraid that she was incapable of doing any better. She wondered if her inability to stop her reckless behavior was an attempt to dislodge and save the child from the life it would have with Nita and Mathieu.
Now that her body was feeling more run down and she had less energy, Mathieu was tiring of having to do everything around the apartment and worrying about having enough money to support them and eventually a baby. He was also getting increasingly irritated that she wasn’t in the mood for sex, complaining that with all his added work he needed a “release” when he came home. Nita tried to oblige him every few weeks, letting him mount her and do what he needed, but he could tell her heart was not into it, and it became a mechanical act for them both. This was a far cry from the life she wanted, but it was the life she had, and she had no one to blame but herself, so she swallowed the pain and an occasional pill to calm her enough to get through the days.
As she delivered their baby boy in late November, part of her couldn’t believe that she had carried him to term. She had taken so many risks with her health and his that it was a miracle to have delivered a healthy boy. When the nurse handed her the small baby wrapped in a cloth, crying and thrusting his arms and legs, she wept uncontrollably. He should not have been as perfect as he was, given all the anguish Nita had put him through during her pregnancy. She saw similar features in this new boy and Sophie. Would she be better this time? Would she be able to care for him without leaving him the way she had left Sophie? She gritted her teeth, asking herself what kind of person had another child when she’d already left the first one. She didn’t deserve this second chance, and she knew it. She could not stop the tears.
Mathieu thought her tears were of joy. He could not fathom the depths of her despair at holding her second baby. He, too, wept the first time he held the boy in his arms, but his were the pride and love of a new father, and Nita hoped he would always be the father he was in that moment. Perhaps it would be a turning point for them both. In the first days that passed with her new baby, she tried to convince herself that she would step into the mother role to which she had not been able to commit with Sophie. But then she would feel guilty for thinking that. Why should this child get more of her than she had given her firstborn? But she pushed that thought away as well. The innocent boy with the light-brown eyes and dark hair deserved the best of her. He had not asked to be brought into this world, and she could not blame her circumstances on him. The best she could do was find a way forward and trust that Sophie and Rajiv had built a happy home for themselves. One that was more stable and loving without Nita in it.