Torment

Brendon stayed with me at my apartment, to help out. He was sleeping on the couch, despite my best efforts to make him take my bed. I would have suggested we just share the bed, but I felt that it would be weird in some way.

I only had one bedroom in my apartment, so Ryan slept in his crib in my room. Which was perfectly fine with me. I felt better with him in the same room as me.

One night, as we were all asleep, Ryan woke up. And he wasn't quiet about it. He was crying loudly. It broke my heart to hear him cry and every time he did, I'd do whatever I could to make him happy. To make the crying stop.

But this night was different.

He woke me, crying as he usually did. But as I neared the crib, I noticed the time. It was about 12:30 a.m. I couldn't touch Ryan. And I knew if he didn't stop crying soon, Brendon would wake up. All I could do was stare at Ryan, talking to him quietly and trying to get him to stop crying. But he wouldn't stop.

Frustrated, it was not long before I, myself, was crying. Begging; Pleading for Ryan to stop. It hurt that that was all I could do.

My bedroom door opened slowly and I saw Brendon, looking tired and his hair a mess.

"Ava?" he said. He looked at me, and then at the crib that Ryan was lying in, still crying. He looked at me again. "What are you doing?"

"H-He won't stop crying," I cried. I wiped my eyes, but it was pointless. Brendon came towards the crib, and I backed away quickly so that Brendon wouldn't accidentally touch me. He looked at me for a moment before looking down at Ryan. He picked Ryan up carefully and cradled him in his arms. I watched as Brendon swung his arms, gently rocking Ryan. Ryan quieted slightly and I could hear Brendon singing softly. A few minutes later, Ryan was quiet. Brendon gently placed Ryan in his crib and covered him up.

Without a word or glance in my direction, Brendon left my room. I left my room a moment later, following Brendon into the living room. There was a lamp on and Brendon was sitting on the couch. I went and stood in front of him.

"Thank you," I said quietly. Brendon nodded his head.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said.

"Why didn't you pick Ryan up?" he asked after a moment.

"What?" I asked.

"You always pick him up when he's crying," Brendon said. "And tonight you didn't. Are you sure you're okay? Because if you're suffering from postpartum depression, we need to get you treated."

"I'm not suffering from postpartum depression," I said.

"Then what is it?" Brendon said, sounding annoyed. "What's changed that you can't pick up your own son and comfort him when he's crying?"

"Nothing's changed," I said.

"Yes, something has changed," Brendon said. He stood up, so that we were more at eye level. "Tell me what's changed."

"I told you, nothing's changed," I said.

"Then tell me what's going on," Brendon said. He took a step towards me and I leaned back slightly, preparing myself to move away. "Just tell me. I'm here for you."

Brendon's hand was moving towards me. I stepped back quickly as I glanced at the clock. I still had 15 minutes.

"Don't touch me," I said, looking back at Brendon. He looked hurt, and I looked down. "I'm sorry Brendon."

He shook his head and sat back down on the couch.

"Brendon," I said. He looked up at me. "What I'm hiding from you, from everyone, is something that's hard to explain. Because it's something people can't even begin to believe."

"You can tell me," Brendon said. "I'll believe you."

I shook my head.

"It's not that simple," I said. I sighed. "You'll have to meet my father."

"Your father?" he asked. I nodded my head.

"Yes," I said. "He has to be here for me to explain everything."

"Ok," Brendon said. "When can I meet him?"

"Tomorrow," I said. "At midnight."

Brendon nodded his head.

I hoped I was making the right decision.