Until Proven Innocent

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

BEFORE
Cordelia Waters
April 6, 2016

I'm finally getting back into the swing of things at work. Everyone accepted my return as though no time had passed. This is exactly what I've needed. My career is my life, and being away for four months has been so difficult. I'm the woman who, if asked if she'd rather choose to have children or pursue her career, would choose the latter. I tried to do that. But clearly that didn't work out too well.

Things are getting better at home. I'm managing, and even though I'm not my absolute best yet, I will get there eventually. It's surreal to see how much Emerald has grown already. The thought keeps circulating through my mind: I created that thing. She came from inside of me! Before I know it, she'll be walking and talking, going to school, making friends, getting married, having children. And then she'll become me.

Will my daughter resent me for having not wanted to create her?

I find myself wandering into her room and simply staring at her as she sleeps. I'm not admiring her, blown away by my grand fascination of her. It's more like I'm studying her. I want to know how she acts and why she moves a certain way. I need to know what her cries mean; why her arms move the way they do; the faces she makes and their purpose. A mother shouldn't have to study her own child, but I do. As if there's going to be an exam at the end and I'm scrambling with all of my notes trying to remember everything I've learned. And there's always that paranoia that I'll fail the exam and have to retake the course all over again. Or worse – they'll kick me out for good. And in that case, they'll take her away from me. Would that be the worst thing?

Sometimes I imagine what life would be like without Emerald. It was so pleasant and peaceful before she came along. I was a business woman at the pinnacle of my career; in love with my gorgeous husband; happily living, just the two of us, in our wonderful home.

Sometimes I blame Emerald for what happened to me. I know I shouldn't, but I can't help it. Essentially, it's her fault. Well, actually, if we're playing the blame game, it's mine and Weston's fault. But the crying is not my fault. The constant screaming and late night's waking up every hour to check on her isn't my fault. No, that's her fault. This is what babies do. I knew this before getting myself into this mess.

This is why I never wanted children.

I'm glad Doctor Wyatt can't read my thoughts, because if she did, she'd surely place me back under twenty-four-hour care and have Emerald taken away. Not that I'd ever hurt Emerald. It's just that sometimes my thoughts wander.

I've always had an overzealous imagination. As a child I would imagine all the ways that I could potentially die. Not in a fantasizing way, more of a paranoia. If we were riding the school bus, I'd have this constant fear that the bus would drive off a bridge and we would all die. Or whenever I'd be near large bodies of water, I'd imagine myself or someone I love drowning. I couldn't help it. My mind always went to the worst possible scenario. I guess you could call that paranoia. So is that what these thoughts are? Paranoia? I picture myself carrying Emerald in my arms, walking down the stairs. Then I slip and fall, and we go tumbling down. My sporadic thoughts continue to wander to a thousand accidents that could occur in our home, all resulting in death and dismay.

I want to want her. I really do. And I consider myself ninety-seven percent better as of today. I'm getting there. I'm improving. And I'm so proud of myself. Doctor Wyatt tells me I have a right to be proud, that I've accomplished so much. What I went through wasn't easy, and it's quite miraculous that I survived and made it out alive. I smile to myself.

I'm working on my feelings. Slowly, day by day. I will love her eventually. I know I will. It's like learning to ride a bike. You start out slow and fearful, scared of falling off or hurting yourself. Doubtful that accomplishing the goal will ever happen. That you'll ever be good enough. But you keep at it and you try harder and harder each day. And then eventually, before you've even realized, you're riding that bike.

____

Today is April sixth: Liam's twenty-sixth birthday. It seems like just yesterday he was turning six on the sixth. I remember those days like they were only a short time ago. Running around the backyard playing hide and seek. Spying on our parents when we were supposed to be in bed. The days we thought would last forever, but hoped would pass all too fast. Oh how I wish I could go back in time and tell myself to make it last. To not dream away the days wishing I was somebody else. To not take for granted being a kid. Because once you become an adult, your entire world changes.

I decide to call Liam. We haven't spoken in a few months, but what better time to call then the day of his birth. The phone rings four times before he answers.

"Hello?" I hear his familiar voice.
"Happy Birthday, baby bro!" I smile into the phone. I don't realize how much I've missed the sound of his voice until he speaks.
"Cordelia," I can almost hear the smile behind his words. "Thank you for calling."
"Of course. How's it feel? Twenty-six – wow. Do you feel old yet?"
He laughs. "Funny. I never really notice a change on my birthday. It's not until I look back a couple years later and think, how the hell did I get this old?"
I laugh too, knowing all too well what he means. I'll be twenty-nine in July. One year away from the big thirty. "So how are things?" I ask.
"Everything's good. Nothing too exciting. How are things with you? How's the baby and Wes?"
"Baby's good. Wes is good. Working a lot, that's for sure."
"And how have you been? With..."
"Good. I'm fine now. Don't worry."
"Okay, I just didn't know."
"That's okay. I'm doing much better."
"Is Weston helping? Doing his fair-share with the baby, I mean?"
"Yes, he's basically her primary care taker. He's amazing with her. And he loves her so much."
"That's good to hear."
"How are Sophie and Clayton?"
"They're good. Sophie's starting a pre-school program this summer to prep her for kindergarten. Clayton is well... Clayton. Being a typical boy for his age."
"He's four now, right?"
"Yes ma'am,"
"How the time flies. I swear last year he was still in diapers."
"They grow up too fast."
It's quiet for a moment. Dozens of memories swirl through my mind. Liam. Our Childhood. Emerald. What she's done to me. I feel the tightness in my throat and I try to hold it in. But the tears come anyway.
"Cordelia? Is something wrong?"
I sniffle and wipe the tears that have gathered at my chin. "I'm fine," I try to laugh it off. "Sorry, it's..." more silent sobs.
"What happened?"
I try to gather myself before speaking. "I'm sorry. I just miss talking to you. Why don't you call anymore? Why don't you ever come by?"
He's silent for a moment. "I'm sorry, Cordelia. It's not you. Please don't take it personally. I just... I can't come back there."
"But why? What happened that's so bad?"
"You know."
"Bullshit. What aren't you telling me?"
"It's nothing. I mean, it's something. But it's my own personal problems. Not yours. I'm sorry, I just don't want to drag you into it."
"I'm your sister. You're supposed to be able to tell me anything. You're supposed to be there for me. I needed you! All those months. It was torture. And where were you?"
He's quiet again. "I'm sorry. Our family has issues. There's no other way to put it."
"Our family doesn't have issues," I say. "You do."
Silence again. "Okay Cordelia. I'm sorry."
I sniffle and wipe my eyes again. "Alright."
"I better get going. Lianna wants to take me out for lunch. Tell Weston I send my best."
"You can tell him yourself."
"Pardon?"
"Sorry. I didn't mean it like that." I pause. "It's just... I meant that it would be more efficient to tell him yourself. He barely speaks to me these days."
"What are you talking about? I thought you said everything was fine?"
"I lied."
"What happened?"
"I don't know," I feel the tightness in my throat again. "Things changed during my depression. I changed. He changed."
"Everyone changes. That's just a part of life."
"Yeah, well, it's not always for the better. We've grown apart, Liam. He doesn't look at me the same anymore. I just... I don't know what to do."
"I'm sorry, Cordelia. I don't know what to tell you. Maybe try talking to him."
"Talking to him? You don't think I've tried that?"
"I don't know. Maybe things will get better. Maybe – what? Yeah, hold on." He's talking to someone else. "Sorry, Lianna's wondering what I'm doing. I really have to go."
"It's okay. You go have fun and enjoy your day."
"Thanks. Talk soon."