Wildest Dreams

“Ma'am, if you're not on the list there's nothing I can do.” The female corrections officer tells me with an annoyed expression through the bullet proof glass of the entry way as I clutch my car keys in my hand hard enough to leave indents in the skin.

“Please, I'm begging you. He didn't take me off because he didn't want to see me. He took me off because he thought it was for my own good.” She eyes me up and down. There's judgement written all over her face and I can't blame her. The people she sees all day every day have a notorious reputation, I'm sure.

“Expensive dress, real diamond earrings, and those car keys look like they belong to something fancy. Maybe he was right.”

“No, you don't understand.” I plead with her. “He's the father of my son,” I hold up my cell phone so she can see my lock screen, a picture of Matt holding Cash upside down. Both of them with cheesy grins on their faces. “And he needs to know why I'm here. Can't you just have someone speak with him? Please.”

As the last word leaves my lips I'm close to tears. I can't accept her telling me no at this point. The woman stares hard at me for a moment, her expression giving nothing away. After torturous silence she speaks.

“I will have a guard speak with him. I'm not promising you anything. Come through the door.” She presses a button and the steel door to my right makes a buzzing sound as it unlocks.

“Thank you. Thank you so much.” I step through the door with haste and enter a breezeway of sorts with another locked door in front of me. The second one buzzes and I push my way through and the woman is standing there waiting for me. She leads me across the room, my heels are noisy on the concrete floor.

We come to another locked door where she scans a key card and once we enter there's one last door to go through before we are in what reminds me of an interrogation room. There's a metal table in the center with a strip of blue tape down the center with one chair on each side. On one side there's two circular rings bolted into the table top for handcuffs to be latched onto.

“Wait here. An officer is speaking with him now. I'll be back in a moment to let you know.” I clasp my hands in front of me, my nerves begin to kick in as I wander the perimeter of the room before taking a seat at the table opposite the metal circles.

The time passes agonizingly slow with no entertainment other than staring at the wall opposite me and replaying the speech I've prepared for Matt inside my head. My cell phone gets no reception in the concrete box that is the prison, so scrolling through social media is not an option to keep my mind busy.

I check the time on my phone for the hundredth time. Thirty-three minutes have passed since the officer left me in here. Which leaves me less than a half hour to speak with Matt if he decides to cooperate.

I'm startled by the sound of the door buzzing and my heart jumps into my throat. I had expected to see the woman when the door swings open, but instead it's Matt with handcuffs on his hands as well as his ankles. A lump forms in my throat at the site of him, an officer is holding on to his upper arm.

His hair has been shaved, leaving only a thin layer on his head, and part of my heart breaks. There were nights I could lay in bed for hours, Matt’s head on my stomach and I'd never get sick of running my fingers through his soft hair. The same locks that my son inherited are now nonexistent on his father. Matt's jawline is also adorned with stubble, more than usual.

I stand from my seat, almost knocking it over backwards in the process. Matt’s expression is anything but pleased and I have to roll my eyes at his stubbornness. My eyes trail from his hair, to the wrist cuffs, and down to the ones around his ankles. The guard looks to me as he guides Matt over to the chair across from me.

“Miss, would you like the cuffs on or of-”

“Off.” The word leaves my mouth before he can even finish his question.

“Hands on the table at all times. Both of you. Everything you say in this room is being monitored. You have fifteen minutes.” The man leaves the room and Matt leans back in his chair and stares at me. I stand there awkwardly, wringing my hands in front of me, all the words I'd practiced in my head evading me now.

“What are you doing here? They said it was an emergency.” His tone is flat, his eyes vacant of any emotion. I take my seat in the chair across from him once more and I realize as I place my elbows on the table that my hands are shaking.

The last time I told Matt I was pregnant his face lit up like a little kid. I had never seen him so happy. Matt is not that person now, and part of me feels like nothing I say in this lifetime will make him beam like that after everything that has happened. What I would do to see him smile. To see his adorable dimples and hazel eyes light up with pure happiness, it's unspeakable.

Matt leans forward and scoots his hands closer to mine. His eyes trail down to where I'm squeezing my laced fingers and he slides his hands across the table almost in slow motion to lace his rough fingers through mine. Something happens in that moment, an emotion blooms across my chest that I can't describe. His eyes don't meet my own, instead they stare down at our hands intertwined.

“Stop this. Stop being so stubborn.” I whisper out, pleading with everything I have for him to change his mind about no contact.

“You didn't come all this way to ask me to change my mind. You know me better than that.” I give his hands a nervous squeeze as I let out a breath. He looks up at me finally, and his gaze moves from mine to my lips and back again. It's like he's committing the way I look right now to memory and the anxious part of me screams that he's not going to let me come back here again.

“I'm pregnant.” The words feel foreign leaving my lips, like they don't belong in this claustrophobic concrete box. I'd thought of more eloquent ways of saying it while I'd been sitting here alone, but not a single alternative comes to mind in this moment. Matt freezes. He starts to pull his hands from mine but I hold tight, refusing to let him go.

“You're sure? Even after Chris-“

“Head wounds, a mild concussion at the worst. He barely touched me other than that.” Matt is silent, but all at once it's like he remembers how to be himself. He leans up and reaches across the narrow table in one swift motion to slip his palm down my upper body to rest on my lower abdomen over the soft cotton of the dress I'm wearing. His face is not far from mine and the smell of him is intoxicating as he stares down at his hand.

”Hands back on the table.” A voice speaks from the speaker on the wall. Matt grips the front of my dress in his hand and squeezes before sitting back down in his own chair.

“Fuck.” There's devastation in his voice that shatters my heart as he rests his elbows on the table and cradles his head in his hands. “Fuck!” He shouts and slams one fist down on the table hard enough to make me jump. It's the most emotion he's shown in weeks and a single tear slips down my cheek at the site of him in distress.

“Matt.” I whisper while reaching for his hand but he rips it away from me. My heart sinks into my stomach and I sit back in the chair, my lips pursed.

“I ruined you, I promised you'd never get hurt again and I'm the one who fucked up your entire life. Your life actually got worse with me in it.” We sit in silence. I don't have any more words to try and ease his pain so all he does is stare down at the metal table top.

“Now what?” I whisper out and I'm reminded of our phone call the day this all started. It was the first question I asked him when I found out he had killed Chris and the police were on their way.

“None of this is fair to you. Two kids on your own, how's that fair?”

“Do you want to know what I think isn't fair?” I raise an eyebrow at him while crossing my arms over my chest. “I think it's unfair that you refuse to let me choose. I think it's unfair that you will not talk to me about any of this. It's unfair Matt, that you won't see your son when he misses you so much it hurts him. I miss you so much it hurts.” I press my hand over my heart and let out a shaky breath.

“What do you want me to do? I'm stuck in here. I can't be a father to him. I can't be there for you, or take care of you the way I'm suppose to.” He runs his hands over his head and looks up at me, his eyes staring a hole right through me.

“You gave up everything for me. You're in here because of me. I can handle raising our son alone. I can handle having this baby on my own, but I need you to let me be there for you too. Let me take care of you for once. This can't just be it for us.” I press my own hand to my lower abdomen and envision who this little life will be one day. Matt’s gaze trails down to where my hand is.

“I have to miss it all over again.”

“We can get through this, I promise.”

“You really want to stick this out with me?” There's an almost disbelief in his voice, like he expected me to just give up on him, as his eyes search mine for some kind of hesitance but there is none. Not a single part of me wants a life with any other man.

“I'd rather die than be with anyone else, Matthew. If you told me to leave and never come back, I'd still be alone raising our kids the day you got out. That's how much I love you.”

“You're incredible you know that? I don't deserve you.”

“Just put me back on the damn list.” There's annoyance in my voice and when Matt hears it the tiniest of smiles forms on his lips which causes me to relax just a little. “I had to all but sell our unborn child on the black market just to get in here today.” A chuckle leaves his chest as I try to lighten the mood and warmth spreads from my heart to the rest of my body.

“I love you.” He tells me, his voice low.

“I love you, too.” He takes my hands in his and presses his lips to the top of my left. His thumb brushes across my ring finger.

“God, I wish I would have married you when I had the chance. There should be a ring on this finger for everything you've done for me.” I give him a soft smile and lean across the table to sneak a quick kiss. I'd do anything to be in his arms right now, but the voice over the speaker interrupts to tell us our time is up.

“Put me back on the list.” I demand as the officer comes back in. Matt holds his hands up for him to slap the cuffs back on but his eyes are on me.

“It's as good as done. I'm sorry you have to have my kid alone. Again.” I can hear the teasing in his voice and I roll my eyes at him.

“I think the first one turned out pretty good. I'll be okay.” I shrug my shoulders as I stand from the chair as the officer leads Matt to the door.

“Can't imagine a better baby mama.” His own words make him laugh as he finishes his sentence and a grin spreads on my face. He's taken from the room and I'm left alone, but feeling much better about life than I did when I arrived here.