How was she suppose to explain this to him? Especially when a part of her, a large part, knew he was right? Back then the answer had seemed almost simple. Sure, the situation was anything but simple, but she had been able to make up her mind and live with that choice. In hindsight she knew it had mostly been of fear, for she had been afraid of many things. Looking back she knew she would have done things differently, but a selfish part of her who loved their lives as they were now, wondered if that was true.
Luckily for her she didn’t have to start talking first, and it was just as well. She knew that she deserved anything he would throw at her. His words stung and five minutes preparation had certainly not been enough time to build up her defenses. Her eyes glistened, though she was stronger now and was able to hold them back. One thing she had learned quickly as the mother of two little girls was to keep yourself from crying in front of them, something she had never been good at when she was younger. Leona could fight back the tears skillfully, but with these words and his face sitting before her, she was finding that task to be harder and harder to manage.
A breathless laugh fell from her lips at the joke about her kitchen. It wasn’t tiny, they did have a rather large house after all, but she knew it was nothing Dillion would have wanted. She could only imagine what his own kitchen must look like. The laugh fell easily, but at the same time, it made it harder to choke back the tears. She bit down on her lip, bringing a curled hand to her mouth, eyes looking anywhere but at him for the moment. Finally she turned her gaze back to him, the coldness of his eyes almost frightening, but she didn’t expect anything less. Dillion had the right to be angry right now. He had the right to hate her, to yell at her. She hoped that going into this conversation remembering this would somehow make it easier.
She sighed, taking a shaky breath. Where to begin? Was she suppose to just take each of his answers one by one and respond? Should she start at the beginning? What? Her eyes fell again. Looking at him only made it harder to keep her thoughts straight, and right now she needed as much clarity as she could possibly manage.
“The girls love this kitchen,” she said with a weak smile, thinking back on their years here. She glanced up at the sink. There were two small dishrags hanging on hooks on either side of the window behind the sink, each with a small hand print and ‘2020’ in red and blue paint on each, with the intitials ‘AJ’ and ‘KC’ scribbled underneath. She didn’t look at him, but she knew he was looking where she was. “They made those for me when we first moved in, seven years ago,” she explained, looking away now and back to her hands that were once again gripping her coffee mug. Sad eyes turned up to him, a frown over her shaky lips.
“I don’t even know where to begin here, Dillion…” She sighed, shaking her head and hoping that he would be able to keep the temper she knew was raging just below the surface at bay just long enough for her to talk. Looking up again she caught it hard eyes, and continued to frown.
Another deep breath.
“I didn’t know I was pregnant until I was over a month along,” Leona began, figuring she might as well start at the beginning. “I hadn’t spoken to you in a month, and Connor said you were doing well at Oxford. -- He doesn’t know, Dillion.” Leona watched him, knowing that she moment she mentioned Connor’s name he was bound to jump to some sort of conclusion. The thing was, Leona had moved before she began to show, before any of their old friends could figure out that she was pregnant. “I went back to Boston and lived with my parents. I lost touch with Connor and Lalana not long after that,” she frowned, still wishing that hadn’t been the case.
“I know that there is nothing I could possibly say to make up for this, Dillion. I know that I shouldn’t have… kept them from you, that they should have had their father,” -- by now, her voice was shaking, the walls finally starting to crumble -- “I was terrified, Dillion. I know that, that’s not an excuse, but I was so scared. I was all alone and here I was, pregnant, and the father was on the other side of the ocean moving on with his life. And after all the fighting we’d been having before we broke up, about what to do with our lives, and what we wanted -- I just couldn’t bare the thought of telling you.”
She still wasn’t crying, she refused to go that far, but her shoulders fell and she was becoming exhausted. Today was suppose to be a lazy day. She had no work, the girls were on break, and they had even planned to go to the mall, see a movie, maybe buy some ice cream to make sundaes with after dinner. No where in her wildest dreams could she have predicted that all of that would change so drastically, and that Dillion Hepburn, the first love of her life and the father of her two beautiful children, would be sitting here in front of her, having this conversation.
Another deep breath. Leona sighed, knowing she had to just say this. Years later she had looked back and cried for days, still confused on what to think. She had one elbow on the table, leaning her forehead against her hand while the other held her mug tightly. Looking up, she met his eyes and kept a rather firm hold on them.
“That evening, Connor and Lalana’s party, right after they told us they were pregnant,” she began carefully, sitting up now and running a hand through her hair. “I was heading to the kitchen, when I heard you and Connor talking.” Leona paused, wondering if he would remember what she was talking about. She watched his face carefully, and then continued.
“You were teasing him, about the idea of having kids. He asked you if we were ever going to settle down and have kids, and you just laughed. Connor asked you more seriously, what would you do if I got pregnant.” Leona stopped again. She took a steadying breath, knowing she didn’t want to finish. “And you told him that if that ever happened, that you would simply front the bill.” Her tone was slightly bitter, her mouth forming a tight line. It was unclear what exactly she was holding back, the sadness or the anger. In reality, it was more the general pain of remembering that night. Leona couldn’t remember feeling more hurt by him ever. Their friends were settling down and Leona had wanted that for she and Dillion, too. Every time she had talked about it, he had managed to blow off the subject, and at that moment, she finally knew why.
“After that we just kept fighting, over and over again about the idea of getting married, of having kids of our own, and every time I even brought it up you were so convinced that children were not something you wanted. When you were accepted to Oxford, I didn’t want to let you go, but I knew that if we stayed together, we would just keep fighting. We didn’t want the same things anymore.”
She sighed wearily, knowing now that it still wasn’t exactly the world’s greatest excuse to keep a father from their children, but as a naïve young girl, all alone and pregnant for the first time on top of an already broken heart, it had seemed logical. For years she had tried to figure out how to tell him, but as the girls got older, it became more complicated. Finally she had buried herself so deep that she couldn’t see a way out, and dropped all thoughts of ever telling him. She shut her eyes, knowing now, of course, how wrong she had been. And yet, she still couldn’t fight the urge that at the time she had been almost justified.
“Damn it,” she swore weakly under her breath, wishing there was an easier way to do this.
Luckily for her she didn’t have to start talking first, and it was just as well. She knew that she deserved anything he would throw at her. His words stung and five minutes preparation had certainly not been enough time to build up her defenses. Her eyes glistened, though she was stronger now and was able to hold them back. One thing she had learned quickly as the mother of two little girls was to keep yourself from crying in front of them, something she had never been good at when she was younger. Leona could fight back the tears skillfully, but with these words and his face sitting before her, she was finding that task to be harder and harder to manage.
A breathless laugh fell from her lips at the joke about her kitchen. It wasn’t tiny, they did have a rather large house after all, but she knew it was nothing Dillion would have wanted. She could only imagine what his own kitchen must look like. The laugh fell easily, but at the same time, it made it harder to choke back the tears. She bit down on her lip, bringing a curled hand to her mouth, eyes looking anywhere but at him for the moment. Finally she turned her gaze back to him, the coldness of his eyes almost frightening, but she didn’t expect anything less. Dillion had the right to be angry right now. He had the right to hate her, to yell at her. She hoped that going into this conversation remembering this would somehow make it easier.
She sighed, taking a shaky breath. Where to begin? Was she suppose to just take each of his answers one by one and respond? Should she start at the beginning? What? Her eyes fell again. Looking at him only made it harder to keep her thoughts straight, and right now she needed as much clarity as she could possibly manage.
“The girls love this kitchen,” she said with a weak smile, thinking back on their years here. She glanced up at the sink. There were two small dishrags hanging on hooks on either side of the window behind the sink, each with a small hand print and ‘2020’ in red and blue paint on each, with the intitials ‘AJ’ and ‘KC’ scribbled underneath. She didn’t look at him, but she knew he was looking where she was. “They made those for me when we first moved in, seven years ago,” she explained, looking away now and back to her hands that were once again gripping her coffee mug. Sad eyes turned up to him, a frown over her shaky lips.
“I don’t even know where to begin here, Dillion…” She sighed, shaking her head and hoping that he would be able to keep the temper she knew was raging just below the surface at bay just long enough for her to talk. Looking up again she caught it hard eyes, and continued to frown.
Another deep breath.
“I didn’t know I was pregnant until I was over a month along,” Leona began, figuring she might as well start at the beginning. “I hadn’t spoken to you in a month, and Connor said you were doing well at Oxford. -- He doesn’t know, Dillion.” Leona watched him, knowing that she moment she mentioned Connor’s name he was bound to jump to some sort of conclusion. The thing was, Leona had moved before she began to show, before any of their old friends could figure out that she was pregnant. “I went back to Boston and lived with my parents. I lost touch with Connor and Lalana not long after that,” she frowned, still wishing that hadn’t been the case.
“I know that there is nothing I could possibly say to make up for this, Dillion. I know that I shouldn’t have… kept them from you, that they should have had their father,” -- by now, her voice was shaking, the walls finally starting to crumble -- “I was terrified, Dillion. I know that, that’s not an excuse, but I was so scared. I was all alone and here I was, pregnant, and the father was on the other side of the ocean moving on with his life. And after all the fighting we’d been having before we broke up, about what to do with our lives, and what we wanted -- I just couldn’t bare the thought of telling you.”
She still wasn’t crying, she refused to go that far, but her shoulders fell and she was becoming exhausted. Today was suppose to be a lazy day. She had no work, the girls were on break, and they had even planned to go to the mall, see a movie, maybe buy some ice cream to make sundaes with after dinner. No where in her wildest dreams could she have predicted that all of that would change so drastically, and that Dillion Hepburn, the first love of her life and the father of her two beautiful children, would be sitting here in front of her, having this conversation.
Another deep breath. Leona sighed, knowing she had to just say this. Years later she had looked back and cried for days, still confused on what to think. She had one elbow on the table, leaning her forehead against her hand while the other held her mug tightly. Looking up, she met his eyes and kept a rather firm hold on them.
“That evening, Connor and Lalana’s party, right after they told us they were pregnant,” she began carefully, sitting up now and running a hand through her hair. “I was heading to the kitchen, when I heard you and Connor talking.” Leona paused, wondering if he would remember what she was talking about. She watched his face carefully, and then continued.
“You were teasing him, about the idea of having kids. He asked you if we were ever going to settle down and have kids, and you just laughed. Connor asked you more seriously, what would you do if I got pregnant.” Leona stopped again. She took a steadying breath, knowing she didn’t want to finish. “And you told him that if that ever happened, that you would simply front the bill.” Her tone was slightly bitter, her mouth forming a tight line. It was unclear what exactly she was holding back, the sadness or the anger. In reality, it was more the general pain of remembering that night. Leona couldn’t remember feeling more hurt by him ever. Their friends were settling down and Leona had wanted that for she and Dillion, too. Every time she had talked about it, he had managed to blow off the subject, and at that moment, she finally knew why.
“After that we just kept fighting, over and over again about the idea of getting married, of having kids of our own, and every time I even brought it up you were so convinced that children were not something you wanted. When you were accepted to Oxford, I didn’t want to let you go, but I knew that if we stayed together, we would just keep fighting. We didn’t want the same things anymore.”
She sighed wearily, knowing now that it still wasn’t exactly the world’s greatest excuse to keep a father from their children, but as a naïve young girl, all alone and pregnant for the first time on top of an already broken heart, it had seemed logical. For years she had tried to figure out how to tell him, but as the girls got older, it became more complicated. Finally she had buried herself so deep that she couldn’t see a way out, and dropped all thoughts of ever telling him. She shut her eyes, knowing now, of course, how wrong she had been. And yet, she still couldn’t fight the urge that at the time she had been almost justified.
“Damn it,” she swore weakly under her breath, wishing there was an easier way to do this.
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