The Rejected Wife: Chapter 13

Someone left a baby on his doorstep? What the—? Can this really be happening? Doesn’t this happen only in the movies? This is real life. Things like this don’t happen in the real world. But the evidence to the contrary is in front of my eyes. Maybe they do…

Tension radiates from Tyler’s big body. He looks around the short hallway, his jaw set. His eyebrows drawn down. I look from him to the baby in the portable carrier then back at him. There’s also a diaper bag next to the carrier. A very expensive designer diaper bag too.

I feel discombobulated, like I’m watching the events unfold from far away.

There’s a baby. On. His. Doorstep. The hair on the back of my neck rises. A sense of foreboding grips me.

The noise of the elevator’s engine running reaches us. It cuts through the sensation of suspended animation that has gripped us.

Tyler springs into action, walking around the baby carrier and toward the elevator. The numbers count down as the elevator descends.

He spins around, rushes into the apartment, then stabs the button on the intercom near the doorway.

‘Someone came to visit me just now. You need to stop them from leaving.”

I assume he’s calling down to security. He listens to whatever the voice on the other end says, then barks, ‘Yes, they are on their way down in the elevator. Intercept them and keep them there. I need to talk to them.’

I glance down to find there’s an envelope tucked between the clothes. A stone forms in the pit of my stomach. I can’t let myself give shape to the possibilities which are crowding my mind. Take a breath. Don’t let your imagination run away. I calm myself enough to bend and pick up the envelope.

I’m half-aware of Tyler saying something else to whoever he’s talking to. Then he hangs up and walks back to me. I silently hand over the envelope with his name written on it.

He glares at it like he could set it on fire with his eyes. Emotions ripple across his face—anger, curiosity, surprise, dread…and, finally, resignation. He cracks his neck, draws in a slow breath, and turns to me. My heart pounds harder. Unease twists in my stomach, but somehow, I manage to nod.

I’m apprehensive about what’s in the note. But also, I’m curious. Whatever it is, it’s not going away. The baby is proof of that.

Tyler seems to come to the same realization because he glances at the still sleeping child. Another cascade of expressions follows—but this time it’s tinged with softness—the kind I saw on his face when he told me how much he loved to take care of me. The man’s a teddy bear at heart.

He takes the envelope from me and rips open the flap. He pulls out a single piece of paper. Whatever he reads in it makes the blood drain from his face.

My heart leaps in my throat, tight and unrelenting. A strange, weightless feeling comes over me. Whatever comes next won’t just change us. It already has. And there’s no undoing it. No going back.

As if in a dream, I reach over and take it from him and read it.

Tyler,

She’s yours. Her name is Serene. She turned one last week, on the fifth.

I can’t do this anymore. She’s better off with you. I relinquish all rights to her.

Take care of her, please.

It’s unsigned. My breath hitches. A weightless sensation squeezes my chest. I feel like the ground has disappeared from underneath my feet. I feel unable to process what I’m feeling.

There must be a simple explanation for it… Except… There’s a baby in a carrier on his doorstep, and I can’t help but wonder what this means for my relationship with Tyler. That weightless sensation intensifies—like the world has tilted beneath my feet. I look up to find him staring at me.

“Did you know about her?” I nod toward the baby.

He shakes his head. “Of course not.” His features are granite hard. His jaw is set. And the look in his eyes—there’s shock, panic, and a touch of horror. It tells me this is a surprise for him. It eases the knot in my belly somewhat.

I try to hand the letter back to him. He stares at it then shakes his head again. “It… can’t be.”

“You did say you slept with a lot of women,” I say dryly.

“I always wore a condom.” He drags his fingers though his hair. “Always.”

“It’s not always a hundred percent effective.”

“Clearly not.” He glances at the baby carrier, and something like panic flickers through him. He swallows hard. He looks so lost, it’s almost comical. As if aware that she’s the focus of attention, the little one lets out a shrill cry.

He instantly jumps back. “Fuck.”

“Don’t swear in front of the baby,” I admonish him.

“She…she’s crying.” A panicked tone enters his voice.

This time, I do chuckle. “She must be hungry. Or maybe, she wet her diaper.”

“Wet her diaper?” His voice stumbles over the words as if it’s the first time he’s spoken them aloud—which admittedly, it must be.

I resist the urge to roll my eyes and, closing the distance to him, I thrust the note at him. He has no choice but to accept it. I head for the carrier and pick up the child. “There, there, sweetie. You’re okay now.”

I rock her, and her cries slow down. I brush past him inside the apartment. When he doesn’t follow, I glance at him over my shoulder.

The irony is not lost on me. I thought I met the man of my dreams. I thought he was the one. I thought he was going to rock my world. That my future as I knew it would change. And it has. Just not how I expected.

“Better bring her carrier and the diaper bag inside, big guy.”