Chapter 6

June 25th, 2000

"Breakfast is ready!" I yell towards the stairs. It will just be a minute before Noah's receding form will be visible on them.

We have since moved into a new house in Noho. Quite the upscale life, it is the first place that has called to me with a feeling of warmth, honey even. The perfect house to start a family.

Stark white walls were something I have always searched for in a home. The steel stair rails coloured a dark wooden brown brings warmth to the space. The massive atria skylight reflects so much natural light and in the nights the sky is a magnificent view, one can only wish for a star filled evening to leave you in a state of admiration.

The place of new beginnings, 27 Great Ambrose Street, a traditional cast-iron loft, the duplex also has oversized windows, original wood-beamed ceilings, contemporary finishes, and views of the surrounding neighbourhoods and all the way down to the World Trade Centre.

What more can I ask for?

It has a direct elevator that provides access to both floors, which encompass 3,000 square feet of interior space and another 1,500 of outdoor space. The living room has three large north-facing windows looking up towards Astor Place, a wood-burning fireplace, and striking beamed ceilings.

Adjacent to the living room is the dining room, situated under the double-height ceiling and skylight. The kitchen stands out against the stark white walls with wide-plank walnut cabinets, just the perfect warm and cold contrast. There’s a half bath located off the kitchen.

The first of two master suites is located on the south side of the first floor, our guest room for the time being. It has a huge, custom-designed walk-in closet, an additional large closet, and a washer/dryer closet, as well as an en-suite bathroom. Our guests would be more than happy with their stay.

Upstairs, there’s a landing that overlooks the great room below and a small home office which Noah claimed by winning a friendly game of 'rock paper scissors'. Off the landing is the north-facing terrace, what a sight.

On the other end of the second floor is the second master suite, me and Noah's bedroom. There’s another walk-in closet and a larger en-suite bathroom with double vanities and both a tub and shower. This bedroom also opens up to the third terrace, the perfect place to drink one's first cup of morning Joe.

A spiral staircase on the master bedroom terrace takes you up to the roof deck, where its 360-degree views include those of the Freedom Tower. The perfect spot for a family barbecue.

"Morning Bella," inhaling the aroma that is set free by the breakfast meal I have prepared, leaves a smile on his face "what great treat have you prepared for us in our first official home?"

"Just blueberry pancakes, bacon, croissants, with some cheeses and good old orange juice to start the day. There is yoghurt too." I say with a satisfied expression.

He makes his way around the counter to the island where I'm busy pouring us both two glasses of juice. His arms snakes around my waist – pulling me close to his body. The closeness of both our bodies pressed against each other gives me access to feel every muscle in his body which leads to a shiver running down my spine.

Noah is a rather lean guy when you look at him while he's wearing his business attire–his suit–but when you have the privilege to see him for just him then you would be welcomed by quite a muscular body.

Flashes of me and Noah on our honeymoon suddenly make their unannounced way into my head and with that I can feel my face heating up, turning my cheeks into two blazingly hot red tomatoes.

"Noah let go," I say, pushing him away. "I have to go to work today, a dermatologist always has work these days. There are five people coming in today with cysts and skin related troubles."

"Oh that sounds ravishing, but I doubt that is better than staying in and spending a day at home with your loving husband practising the art of multiplying." He says with the most seductive smirk. Me on the other hand is blushing like crazy and a bit dumbfounded about his bluntness these days.

"I would love to, but I have already stayed home yesterday, because of moving. My colleagues would not appreciate me asking them to take over my patients again, besides they have kept the ship afloat while we were away on honeymoon." I say sitting in the chair at the kitchen tabletop where I plate myself some breakfast.

"Doesn't being the boss of your own dermatology give you perks? I know being the CEO of my company gives me." Noah says while eating a piece of fried bacon.

I roll my eyes at him biting into a pancake. "I can't take advantage of my power like that, besides I'm working in the Health and Medical field, it is so much different than the Business Sector. There is lives in our hands, fatal or not."

A small pout forms on his face, but I know him and this is one of Noah's most manipulative tactics. He makes you feel bad about not agreeing to his requests and at first I used to fall for it each time, but now it's different, I'm stronger willed now than ever.

"That is not going to change my mind, love." I say drinking a sip from some of the refreshing concentrated orange juice, I made myself this morning with my new juicer.

"When did you get so resistant to my manipulative charms?" He asks while biting into a blueberry pancake. The sound that came out of his throat indicated pure delight for my baking, making my heart flutter and a small smile tug at the corners of my mouth.

"You are–" Before I could finish my sentence my phone lit up and rang. The caller identification popped up and her name appeared in bold lettering Amia Crosswood. It once was saved as MiaBoo, she was once my everything, my sanctuary, but now she is just the soon to be mom of my husband's baby. Enemy is a strong word. I'm a feminist. If we were part of the Victorian Era I probably would have been best friends with Miss Lilly Linton, fighting together with her as suffragettes. It takes two to tango and I'm not the Lord or anything, but as much as it is Amia's fault, it is Noah's too. All that I can do now is to refrain from acting out about that little incident.

There is one thing that feminism doesn't stop me from acting upon. Revenge upon a woman who tried to murder me, but instead killed my unborn children and the dream I cherished of becoming a mother.

I personally would never have preferred acting upon rage, but rage can only last so long. What I like to say I feel now is pure passion, all wrapped up in a ball of utter and total darkness. No room for pure thoughts anymore.

Therefore I let the phone ring just a little bit more, before dragging my hand across the counter to pick it up.

Just as I was pressing the answer button the call went off. Good not like I wanted to answer either way.

"Who was that?" Noah asks.

"It was A–" Just as I was answering Noah, my phone lit up again and started to ring, again.

No surprise to the caller identification.

"Good morning Amia, isn't it a bit too early for this?" I ask with a tone you would rather never want to be spoken in.

"It's the baby, my water just broke and I'm on my way to the hospital." She says. Now that I think about it, her voice sounds strained, more so in pain.

"Okay. I'll be sure to tell Noah about it. Have a nice day."

"Aren't you going to come?" For a woman in pain, the tint of malice she poured into her words is quite evident.

Silence, utter and complete bitter cold silence.

"Bye, be sure to tell your husband his child is on the way." She said and ended the call.

She sure knows how to get under my skin, but what did I expect? For years she was the only person I could confide in. I told her anything and everything. She swore to be a well with an endless bottom for me, but it turned out that she was all along just a fantom that would disappear from my life with all my secrets and traits.

Amia really knows where to hit me where it hurts, but I have news for her. I'm rebuilding myself, a newer and better version. A version of mystery and a touch of cunning intentions of revenge. The version that she knows nothing of.

With a cold expression the words slip mouth like salty water on a sandy shore, "She is in labour."

I don't know what to think of his reaction. He jumped from his seat, rushed to the lounge and grabbed his keys from the key bowl. The front door was thrown shut with a loud thumb that resonates still through the silent atmosphere of the house.

That probably would have been normal when you find out your first born is on his or her way. Then again to leave your wife at the counter eating breakfast to run after her ex best friend, who is pregnant with your child, but wanted to kill your fiancée and succeeded in killing your unborn children and leaving your now wife to be now labelled as fruitless – and medically as sterile.

How gracious of you? Husband of the decade.

But I only have myself to blame for it. I knew what he did to me, he knew what she did to me and still we got married. Knowing full blown well that the bubble we lived in after the wedding would sooner or later pop.

Well the bubble did pop, the second he left me here to run after her.

I picked up my cell phone and dialled the dermatology clinic.

"Good morning, Nancy. I'm sorry to inform you, but I'll have to postpone the procedure that we were going to do today, removing all of Mr Carter's cysts." I say in a rather withdrawn voice. It's my voice, but it sounds like the words leaving into thin air are coming from afar.

"Doctor Costello, I'm sorry if I'm speaking out of turn, but doctor doesn't sound quite like yourself." Nancy says. She is one of the nicest people working with me and we have become quite good colleagues, perhaps even friends.

"Nancy I see you as a friend therefore you can call me Isabella and I'm alright, Amia is in hospital so I have to go there." I say.

"Okay hope everything is well. Goodbye doc– I mean Isabella."

"Bye and thank you for the understanding." I say and end the call right away.

To say that I was lost in thought would be an understatement for the turning engines spinning with plans in my brain.

I tooked the last sip of my glass of orange juice and a rose from my chair. The dishes can wait and with that I am out the door in nothing but mere seconds.

•●•

The buzzing of a busy day at the local hospital in Brooklyn hit my eardrums. People were everywhere, some crying – whaling to be more accurate – some with worries mixed with nervous expressions, then people that can't seem to wipe their grins off of their faces and lastly but not least the expressionless people, the people I resonate with.

The lady at the desk was quite friendly to my surprise. She didn't seem like the chirpy happy go lucky person, but you know what they say, 'Never judge a book by its cover'.

"Good morning mam. How may I assist you on this lovely morning?" She asks while a bright cheerful smile is sporting her facial muscles.

"I would like to know in which room I can find Miss Amia Crosswood." I say. "I believe she came in this morning around eight o'clock, she is in labour." I added.

"I'm sorry mam, but if I may ask, what are you missing Crossword?" She asks.

"Well uhm," taking a glance at her name tag "Leah Meyers, she is the woman carrying my husband's baby." I say in a quite stonelike manner.

Leah's pupils dilated a bit after processing my words.

"Well where can I find her?"

Snapped out of the frozen position she typed away furiously at the computer located in front of her. Finally looking up she said, "She is in a room located on the east wing, on the fourth level, room number 3254."

The walk there tooked quite some time. All these people scurrying around to their own destination made the journey to room 3254 quite the battle to get through the halls.

Now infront of me stood a white door, equipped with a silver handle. I didn't even realise it, but my hands are quite clammy with my heart racing against time.

I suck in one of the deepest breaths I've ever inhaled and just as the door pops open, the cry of a baby triumphs.

"It's a baby girl."