Olivia Since I promised not to bother Liam at his house at Point Dume, I text and call
instead, but all of them go ignored. I try reaching out to Frederich next, but he doesn’t have
much to say. –Frederich: I’m afraid I can’t discuss his private matters. But he’s alive if
that’s what you’re asking. He isn’t at his place, though. I can hear the mild rebuke in his
text. He isn’t happy that Liam is suffering. But I don’t blame him. I wouldn’t either if I were
in his place. I tap on the dining table. What are my options? Liam isn’t even at his place, and
who knows when he’ll move back? He isn’t seeing me at his company either. That leaves me
with... what? Dr. Silverman! I gave Liam the card inviting him to hear the baby’s first
heartbeat. He walked out on me that evening, but he left with the card clenched in his hand.
And he knows Dr. Silverman’s my OB-GYN. He’ll come. He has to come. He might be
disappointed and decide not to love me anymore, but he loves this baby more than anything
in the world. He’d never miss a chance to experience something as special as hearing the
baby’s heart. My heart full of optimism, I carefully pick out a pretty white dress with lace
trim and put on soft makeup, the kind I used to wear at Stanford. I don’t bother with any
jewelry exc ept for the rings from him. It might seem manipulative, but I want to remind him
of the feelings he used to have. It’ll be easier to convince him he’s important to me. Dr.
Silverman’s main office isn’t too far from mine. The interior is all creamy yellow and sage
green walls, not a sign of posters warning about dire health crises to come for women. The
practice is concierge-based, and
the membership isn’t cheap. The doctor believes in creating a soothing environment where
every patient is able to take as much time as they need to address whatever medical issue
they’re concerned with. I take a seat on the ivory couch. The air feels clean, sweetened by
the scent from a pot of lavender near the rec eptionist’s desk. I check the time. Ten minutes
early. Will Liam arrive early or show up exactly at three to hear the baby’s heartbeat and
leave? Clammy sweat coats my palms. I start to run them down my dress, then catch myself.
“Olivia, this way,” a nurse says with a friendly smile. I glance at my watch again. 3:00 p. m.
My mouth dry, I look at the entrance, willing it to open and show him on the other side. But
nothing happens. Come on, come on. “Olivia?” the nurse says again, her tone full of
curiosity and concern. “Is everything all right?” No, everything is not all right. Liam isn’t
coming. He doesn’t just not want me, he doesn’t want our baby either. The realization burns
my eyes. Is this how he felt when he heard me say he was a pawn to be discarded? I manage
a smile, then turn to her. “Yes. I’m fine.” She nods and takes me to the examination room.
It’s done in the same soothing shades as the waiting room. Dr. Silverman is a slim woman in
her late fifties. She has let her bob go gray naturally, and there’s hardly any makeup on her.
She radiates warmth and energy. Her green eyes crinkle as I st ep inside and close the door.
“Good afternoon, Olivia. How are you? Everything good?” she asks. “Everything’s fine,” I
say, taking a seat. “The baby is great, no major morning sickness anymore.” I got Liam’s
ginger back. “And some saltines are helping.” Although they’re store-bought, not the
special ones from my husband. “You seem a bit listless.” “Just a lot of stuff at work.” Which
is true enough. I’m going to have trouble r eplacing Simon. But I don’t regret firing him. His
actions not only disappointed me but made me question my own judgment. After all, I never
thought he would be so manipulative and petty. But what’s even more alarming is that I
never knew.
“Well, don’t let work stress get to you. Your baby needs all your attention.” I nod. “Of
course. I’m taking all my vitamins and minerals.” She laughs. “Good. Let’s get started.” I lie
on the table, with a sheet draped over my legs and the dress over my belly. She does the
transvaginal ultrasound to show me how the baby’s doing. The screen shows nothing but
white lines and dots against black. It’s unbelievable that Dr. Silverman can find my baby
among those dots, but she does. I stare at the tiny little life, as though I can see its facial
features already. “Do you think the baby will look like their father?” I ask. “Hard to say. It’s
too early, but we can certainly check the heartbeat.” She taps a few buttons on the
machine. The examination room fills with a rapid whoosh, whoosh sound. My hands clench,
wishing Liam were here to hold me. He’d be awestruck at the tiny life, and joy would spread
over his gorgeous face. He’d look at me like he couldn’t believe it. But I have no one to
blame but myself for pushing him away. And I realize how selfish I’ve been, telling myself
that I didn’t need him. But what I’ve really done is take away the love the baby is entitled to
from their father. No matter what I claim, I can never make up for it because I’m not
capable of giving the kind of love that Liam can. Tears leak from the corners of my eyes. My
temples grow wet. “Aww.” Dr. Silverman plucks several Kleenex tissues and hands them to
me. “Here.” “Thank you.” I dab at my eyes. “Pregnancy hormones. I’m... I’m just very
emotional right now.” She laughs. “Completely normal for new moms, especially when
they’re hearing it for the first time. Miraculous, isn’t it?” Her eyes soften, and she glances
at her computer monitor. “Yes, it is.” My voice is thick with tears. Liam deserves to be here
and share this moment. I robbed him of that too, with my cowardice. When I’m back in the
lobby, she texts me a video file. “This is a recording of the baby’s heartbeat today. If you
have people you want to forward this to, please go ahead.” “Thank you,” I say shakily,
running my finger over the image of the tiny dot that r epresents my baby.
“You’re welcome.” I head out, clutching my phone. Once I’m in my car, I type a quick
message to Liam. –Me: I’m sorry you couldn’t make it to the appointment. This is a
recording of the baby’s heartbeat. I want you to hear it. I’m sorry. I hesitate. Somehow
sorry just seems... inadequate. Sorry for what? For making him think that he’s nothing to
me? When you play chess, you do everything to protect the king. Players sacrifice their
pawns, their knights, their bishops, their rooks, and even their queen, but the king always
stays on the board. My game didn’t end when I lost my exes to Brielle because none of them
were my king. They, ultimately, were disposable. Yes, losing them hurt. But that was all. My
revenge never stopped. I gritted my teeth and k ept going. A few lost pawns here and there
meant nothing. I’d already lost Mom and Pochi. So I didn’t realize Liam was the king on the
board. My plan for our marriage was all wrong from the very beginning. I can’t believe I
thought hiding my feelings and staying aloof was the way. Although we’ve shared some
tender moments, they may not mean anything to him. He saw me with Tyler. He’s seen me
act when I needed to convince Brielle that I was de eply in love with my fiancé. Liam might
think everything I’ve said and done with him was just as fake as my time with Tyler. But I
can’t figure out how to explain all that, so I just hit send and hope that he sees that my
apology is genuine. I wait ten minutes to see if he texts me back—don’t want to check my
phone while driving—but again, there’s no response. My heart sheds blood again, but I
merely exhale, pretending nothing can touch me, and drive home since it’s already too late
to return to the office. Half an hour later, I drag myself inside the condo. The sound system
plays soft waves that imitate Malibu so that silence doesn’t suffocate me. But it isn’t the
same. The air is sterile and doesn’t have that vibrant energy that made me feel protected
and cared for. I walk to the balcony and stare out at the bluff across the bay, my grip
tightening around my phone. I’ve been praying that Liam would get my last message and
listen to the baby’s heartbeat and respond. Even a quick
“okay” would be enough to give me an opening. But he’s as impenetrable as the security at
his house. Sighing, I drop my head and turn my back to the window. It hurts too much to
look at the bluff. Being a part of his world was a one-of-a-kind gift. And I threw it away.