easy,” I state, a little annoyed that I have to remind Alexis once more to tone down her over exuberant fitness training.
“Don’t start this shit with me again,” she snaps. “I’m no longer pregnant and am now fully capable of working out.”
“Alexis, I’m just saying that you gave birth a week ago. Your body is still healing and adjusting. Don’t rush things.”
“I’m not.”
I notice her refusal to look at me, and it heightens the concern I felt the morning we brought Brayden home, the morning I mentioned Chelsea.
Curious, I decide to pose that question. “Has this got anything to do with the fact Chelsea just rang?”
Alexis presses a button, accelerating her strides on the treadmill. “No. The flying fuck I give about that bitch just flew the fuck away,” she says sarcastically while flapping her hands like bird.
“Hunny, why does she make you so angry?”
“Because.”
“Because is not an answer. Alexis, talk to me.”
“No, go away.”
Having no other choice, I reach into my pocket, take out my phone, and dial Jessica. She answers after only a couple of rings. “Bryce, Dear. How’s fatherhood treating you?”
“Hello, Jessica,” I state while watching Alexis’ reaction. “Fatherhood is wonderful, perfect in fact.”
Alexis closes her eyes briefly and sucks in a long winded breath.
“Lovely. How can I help you? We are not scheduled for a session until Thursday. Do you need to see me earlier,” Jessica asks, hope in her voice.”
“Actually, yes. I would like you to come over today, if possible.”
“I can organise that. Is everything alright?”
“Well, I’ll leave that up to you to decide. Alexis is...let’s just say displaying signs of angered frustration. She won’t talk to me about it, so I’m a little concerned.”
“Oh...you didn’t just go there,” Alexis hisses, her fiery glare incinerating me on the spot.
I glare back at her, determined to sort this shit out. I’m not having one of the happiest times of our life marred by her pent up and unwarranted feelings of jealousy toward Chelsea.
“Okay, I can be there in around an hour,” Jessica informs.
“Thank you. See you soon.”
I end the call and put my phone back in my pocket, my stare never wavering from Alexis.
She accelerates her strides even more, practically punching the button with her clenched fist. “I can’t believe you just insinuated that I am not coping well after giving birth. Firstly, you have no right. Secondly, I am dealing with mothering our gorgeous son just fine thank you very much. To even imply that I cannot handle him or—“
“I’m not implying that at all.”
“Then what was that?”
“You need to talk about whatever it is that is pissing you off. And if you won’t talk to me about it, you can talk to Jessica. You should be exceedingly happy at the moment, but you aren’t. I don’t want you to look back at this time and have any regrets.”
She hits the emergency stop button on the treadmill and comes to a halt, slumping over the arms rests. Taking deep breaths and looking overly exhausted, she wipes her brow with a towel.
After a few seconds of catching her breath and bearings, she steps off, grabs her water bottle, and has a long drink before walking up to me. “I have no regrets...none at all, none where you and Brayden are concerned. I never have and I never will,” she says quietly, hurt evident in her voice.
I watch her walk back inside before stopping at the bassinet and smiling at our son. The love she projects for him is obviously genuine and in abundance which just confuses me all the more.
Just over an hour later, I let Jessica into the apartment.
“I like what you’ve done with the place,” she admires, grinning at the now baby-fied surroundings.
“Yeah, feels more like a home now.”
“So, where is she?”
“Up in our room with Brayden. Just go straight up.”
“You sure? I don’t want to start a session with an already irate patient, it’s much more work on my part.”
“It’s fine, she’s feeding. I’m sure she won’t mind.”
Jessica winks and squeezes my arm before giving me a tight embrace. “Congratulations, I’m so proud of you. And don’t worry, I’ll get to the bottom of whatever is bothering Alexis.”
“Thank you,” I reply while watching her make her way up the stairs before I head for my office.
As I sit down, I’m instantly made aware that the baby monitor on my desk is switched on due to hearing the sound of Alexis’ voice singing “Baby Mine”. As her words filter from the small portable speaker in front of me, I am transfixed by the indisputable love she projects as she sings them. I could sit here forever and listen to her heartfelt words to our son—it’s so mesmerizing.
“Excuse me, Alexis. Sorry, am I interrupting you?” Jessica says, her voice also now sounding through the speaker.
I go to switch the baby monitor off but pause with my hand on the button, not being able to bring myself to do it. It’s my excessive curiosity and basically having to know every single detail which prevents me from doing so. Instead—as my conscience goes to war with itself—I sit and continue to listen.
“No, that’s alright. I’m just settling him for sleep,” Alexis informs.
There’s a pause for a moment and I hear some muffled sounds.
“Oh, goodness, he is just a perfect little angel,” Jessica coos.
“Isn’t he just? Here would you like a cuddle?”
“Do you not want to put him down to sleep?”
“It’s fine. He basically lives in Bryce’s arms, so he’s used to it.”
“Well, in that case, I’d love to.”
There’s another pause in discussion and some more muffled sounds.
“My, oh my, does he look like his father.”
I hear Alexis giggle. “Yes, he sure does.”
This statement has me grinning from ear to ear when my phone rings. Annoyed by the interruption, I buzz Abigail. “Abigail, can you please hold all my calls until further notice.”
“Certainly, Mr. Clark,” she responds, the ringing ceasing immediately.
“Thank you.”
I hang up and continue to listen to the monitor.
“So how’s everything going? Is he feeding well? Are you getting enough sleep?” Jessica asks.
“Now, Jessica...you wouldn’t be here to find out if I’m suffering postnatal depression at all would you?” Alexis asks with a playful tone to her voice.
Jessica laughs and it has me a little perplexed. That is exactly why she is here.
“No, Alexis. Well, that is why Bryce asked me here. But no, I just wanted to see your handsome and incredibly adorable little son.”
I’m just about to get up from my desk and march upstairs to demand she put her skills—that I pay her considerably for—to use when she continues speaking.
“...However, seeing as I am here, and seeing how you are clearly not suffering from postnatal depression, do you want to tell me why Bryce is so concerned? Obviously you have given him reason to be.”
