002 Be The Woman I Married

(Maya)

“Owen’s back in the hospital. I’m staying with him.”

The bag snaps shut.

“You’re leaving?” My voice cracks. “I thought tonight—”

“Don’t start.” His glare kills me. “You need to take care of her better. Every time I come home, she’s screaming.”

“She’s a baby, Cole. Babies cry—”

“Owen never cried that much. Jade always had him calm when I went to see him.”

“I’m sorry. Just give me a few minutes. I’ll settle her again.”

“You make it worse. You’re so emotional. No wonder she’s always like this.” He shoves his shoes in another bag.

“Maybe… if you hold her a while…”

He just glares at me like I’ve suggested he hold a deadly viper.

I bite my lip, swallow the sting. 

“I hoped… I thought we’d spend the night together. I cooked dinner. I baked a cake for us.”

He straightens, face twisting. “A cake? You expect me to sit here eating cake with you while my boy is sick in a hospital bed? Are you mad?”

Tears burn my eyes. “I just wanted—”

“Stop being so selfish, Maya.” His voice is cold steel.

He looks me up and down as I rock Lucy, who is still crying. “For God’s sake… Go put some damn clothes on. Holding our daughter half-naked!”

“I’m sorry. I wanted us to—"

“You’re a mother now, not a whore. Start acting like one.”

The words hurt me more than a fist could. “Cole… I…”

“You what?”

“I… I love you…”

He makes that face I hate. His family specialty.

The one that makes me feel like dirt. “I don’t have time for your neediness.”

For a second the softness flashes through his eyes. His tender voice is back. “Straighten yourself out, Maya. Be the woman I married.”

I go to him. “I will. I am. Stay with us a little longer, please?”

His scowl is back. “I already told you, Owen is in the hospital.” He shoves past me. “Just try harder, Maya. Don’t prove my family right, please.”

He slings one bag over his shoulder and walks out, the door closing behind him.

I clutch Lucy tighter, whispering into her curls, “It’s okay baby girl, he loves you, he loves us.”

I carry her out to the dining room, hoping the motion will calm her. The candles flicker on the untouched table.

The cake sits waiting, a joke, its pink letters blurring through my tears.

He loves me. I know it. He’s just going through a lot right now.

Lucy’s cries hiccup into quiet whimpers as I bounce her against my shoulder.

I kiss her damp hair and walk circles around the dining table.

The table is set perfectly.

I roasted the chicken with rosemary, lemon, garlic… his favorite, because Jade once mocked me for not knowing how to cook it right.

I made sure to learn every step just so I could prove her wrong.

“Shhh, baby, please,” I whisper. “Daddy will come around. He loves you. He loves us.”

Her big eyes glisten with tears, her lips trembling.

My phone is on the counter. I stare at it like I can will it to ring.

I picture him calling from the car, telling me he’s sorry, that he’ll be back after checking on Owen.

That he misses me. That he wants to hold me.

But it stays silent.

I sink into a chair, Lucy on my lap now, rocking her against me.

She is quiet at last.

I whisper it again because maybe if I say it enough, it will be true. “He loves us.”

But deep down, fear gnaws like a rat in the walls. 

What if Jade is right? What if his family is right? What if I’m not enough?

The thought won’t leave. It digs in sharper with every second. I’m trying so hard to be what he needs.

I think about Jade’s words last week. You need to calm down, Maya. Cole can’t stand a woman who’s always falling apart.

Falling apart. That’s what I’m doing. Every cry from Lucy, every missed dinner with Cole, every cold look from his mother… it’s another crack in me.

Why can’t I be stronger?

Why can’t I be the woman he married, the one who laughed through a month-long honeymoon, who wore lingerie without shame, who believed she was the luckiest girl alive?

That woman is gone.

In her place is someone who cries at three a.m. while pacing the nursery.

Someone who swallows pills Jade’s doctor prescribed because sleep won’t come otherwise. 

Someone who feels like she’s failing at every single part of being a wife and mother.

I go and lay Lucy in her bed. I stop by a photo of us on the dresser. Cole and I. He’s holding me close, looking into my eyes.

“You did love me,” I whisper to the picture. “I know you did. I saw it. I felt it.”

The memories surge, bright and painful. 

His hands on my waist, pulling me closer on the dance floor. 

His lips at my ear, murmuring that I was his forever.

His promises seared into my heart at the age of twenty-one.

That man existed. He’s still in there, buried under stress of the company and hospital rooms.

I whisper into the empty room, “I’ll be the woman you married, Cole. I’ll prove it to you. I’ll be perfect. I’ll make you love me again.”

Lucy stirs softly, turning her head. I kiss her little fingers, determination burning under my grief.

He will see me again. He will.

Tomorrow, I’ll try harder. I’ll smile wider.

I’ll swallow whatever bitterness is left and I’ll stand by his side at the next event, perfect and silent, just the way his family wants.

If that’s what it takes, I’ll do it.

Because he does love me.

He has to.