His question threw me asunder. Will you ever be ready to become a mother? He didn’t think I’d ever be ready to be one. Was this a test? Because it was a tricky question and one I didn’t appreciate in the least.
“I’m ready when I’m fucking ready. In five years’ time, ten, heck maybe in the next six months, but that’s up to me to decide.”
I had expected anger to surface in his magnificent features, but I was quite astounded to find sadness marring his beauty. The sadness was etched everywhere, as if I had just crumbled and stomped on his dream because I had thrown a tantrum. But what had he thought? That I’d happily go along with his wants because I was so sick in love I’d bend over backwards to give him the world? There was no question that I loved him, but I also wanted to be prepared to be a mother, so I could be capable of loving my own offspring and not be this distant parent that would turn into an egotistical maniac the second the child threw a hissy fit or cried in vain.
Being a mother was terrifying and should not be taken lightly. For crying out loud, it wasn’t a joke. Even if he vowed to do everything and anything in his power to cater to the child’s needs, the society expected the mother to do the nurturing, not the father. People would talk freely as to how awful I was at being a mother. The scenarios just kept flooding my brain, and I couldn’t, for the life of me, let it go for Blake’s happiness.
I simply couldn’t. I was petrified that he was demanding this from me. In a year’s time, who knew what he’d ask of me then.
“I’m sorry, babe. You know I’d give you anything to make you happy, but I can’t compromise with this request.” I hoped he’d find it in his heart to let this dream go for the time being. “Forgive me.”
He nodded, looking like someone had died. “Me, too. You don’t know how much,” he whispered more to himself, before he gave me one last look and took off.
“Where are you going?” I asked, panicked.
“Heading to the office.”
But it was late. Freaking hell, couldn’t he just cool the fuck down? “Stay home. You need to rest.”
I heard the loud, thudding slam of the front door. Well, there went my answer.
He needed to get away to clear his head. Hopefully, by tomorrow, he’d get over it and realize we weren’t ready to be parents, or better yet, we’d relish on being honeymooners and focus on each other since things hadn’t been dreamy at all since we got together.
~
“Sienna Richards speaking.” I took the call the second after it rang. We were in William’s hospital room, visiting him, and when he’d fallen asleep, I hadn’t seen the problem in taking the call.
Since I was graduating at the end of the year, I thought it would be sensible to also margin out of my comfort zone and take on another job in the marketing field. This time, I was vying to shadow being an Accessories Buyer on top of interning in Stella’s PR firm. I needed to see all the different aspects of what my degree could do for me, and I was actually excited at the prospect of being surrounded with things I was familiar with and knowing what it truly meant to be a fashionista.
Being one entailed that one lived for the statement. The style. The risqué. The never-ending, shifting trend. The desire to be bold. To be unique. To find something that portrayed our identity. So we could be free and live life the way we saw fit. The way we wanted to color and paint it with our own heart, our dreams, and our own signature uniqueness.
I was young and the opportunity was there, therefore I was going to gladly seize it with both of my arms spread wide open and follow the path I had always dreamed of.
The call was about my impending interview, which was scheduled in three days time. I couldn’t be happier than feeling I was on the right path of achieving my goals. Though, for a minute there, I felt the tugging pang of guilt knowing Blake couldn’t have his because I wasn’t ready to sacrifice any of this yet.
I still wanted more from life, though. I longed to achieve so much before settling down with a baby. Having one wasn’t a short-term agreement, even if Blake made sure to detail everything to avoid my having to worry at all. I mean, come on, let’s get real here. A baby was a lifelong commitment, whether one agreed to it or not. It just was.
I was grinning from ear to ear, even right after my call. I was about to spin around and go back to where Blake was when I heard him say, “You’re Sienna Knightly now. It’s been six months, and each and every time, it’s always Richards. You’re a Knightly now. My wife, in case that has escaped your notice.”
I stared at him agog before it sank it. “I’m sorry, I didn’t even realize I was doing that.” Sienna Knightly. Sienna Knightly. Damn, that was going to take time getting used to saying.
He completely ignored me as he went through his phone. Ever since our conversation in my closet, we hadn’t had a real one since. It wasn’t my fault, but mainly his. I wasn’t sure if he was trying to cut me off and punish me for not delivering what one would consider one of my “wifely duties,” but either way, I wasn’t going to budge, even if he cried wolf.
I merely hoped he’d snap out of this so we could get on with our lives. Not having a baby right this instant wasn’t the end of our lives. For Pete’s sakes, we were young and could plan popping babies out several years down the road. As such, for him to gloat and be immature about this was truly maddening.
“Stella’s dinner’s tonight, in case you’ve changed your mind—”
“I have not,” he emphasized gravely. “More importantly, why should I go to a dinner where they celebrate their impending birth of their first child when I have to wait for my very own to be conceived in nearly half a decade?”
“That’s not fair to throw it in my face, Blake, and you know it.” This grudge wasn’t going to go away anytime soon, I supposed.
He sighed. “I know it isn’t fair, Sienna,” he said with alacrity. “I know this more than you do, but I held on to hope, thinking this was something that could be negotiated. I was, unfortunately, mistaken in believing we are a team that could take on whatever hurdle was thrown at us. My love is unconditional, and it was utterly shattering to see that yours isn’t.”
I loved him; how dare he question that. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re just upset, and you’re thinking is muddled with all these emotions playing havoc with the logical side of you.”