Alicia turned away, her back to Jon and the door. She adjusted the towel, slipped it from her shoulder to wrap about her chest, and secure it between her breasts. Over her heart. She would swear that it was broken except for the loud, solid rat-a-tat-tat she felt pounding in her temples. She hugged the towel tighter, like a shield, some protection from the cold of his response.
She had played her hand and lost. What now? If she could not convince this man of the truth, what future did they have? And most importantly, what about Hope? What about their child? She leaned her head against the cold tiles and felt the hot tears cascade down her cheeks. The only man she had ever said those words to...and that was his response?
"Go ahead. I'll be there in a minute," she needed some time alone to consider her options. Did she have any?
"Sure. I'll take my stuff and get ready in the bedroom. I'm sorry."
Alicia waited until she heard the click of the door closing before she sunk to the cool recesses of the tub. Until she gave her tears free reign. She held back the sobs, though she wanted to wail like the mothers she had seen at that wall, the ones who had lost sons, husbands, and lovers.
She too had lost. Lost something precious. She had lost her dreams. Dreams of marriage and family built on honesty, respect, and most of all love. What now? Did she ask Jon to leave? Make some arrangement like so many parents did to share custody of their children? How would she explain any of that to Hope? She could not bring herself to cut him out of their child's life completely, not now that they knew one another. Did she walk in that room, head held high, and pretend that nothing had happened? That she had not said those words? That she did not feel them?
Why had she done it? Why had she taken such a risk? Why hadn't she just waited, bided her time, taken things more slowly? She laughed; it had the ring of a crazy woman to it. When it came to Jon, she had never played it safe. She had taken a stranger into her bed and her heart. The only one night stand of her life. And from that came the best thing that had ever happened to her, Hope.
What now? Her heart hammered with each beat, her head pounded as she rose from the tub. She leaned against the wall as she stepped out. She hugged that towel even tighter as if her life depended upon keeping it in place. She went through the motions of brushing of her teeth. Even then, she swore she could taste him, taste Jon's cum overpowering the mint.
What now? Each step of her bare feet on the dingy brown shag carpet in the hallway. That carpet had been there all her life. She should have replaced it long ago. She paused outside of Hope's room. Did she dare look in? How could she not? Hope was at the center of it all. She could not forget that. What was best for her daughter was the only thing that mattered?
She closed the door softly and leaned her head against it. What now? That damned voice echoed in her heart and her head. She trembled as she took the dozen or so steps down the hallway. Dead woman walking, what now? The blood in her icy veins seemed to chorus.
She paused outside her bedroom door — their bedroom. Her head leaned against the solid wood. It seemed the only solid thing in her world just then. She felt like she ought to pray, but to whom or what she had no idea.
What now? Wasn't that a prayer in itself? She turned the knob of the door and prepared to face the reality of what now.
***
What now? Jon knew that he had fucked up. Big time. But how did he make this one right? Was that even possible?
He sat on the end of the bed with the towel wrapped around him. His head almost touched his chest. Despite the warm shower that had loosen the contractures, he felt the tightening and pull from the unusual position. But at the moment, the slight pain helped him to focus.
