Title:  My Only Choice

Author:  Nicky

E-mail:  [email protected]

Rating: PG

Keywords: J/MP, MP/B

Summary:  Miss Parker makes a choice that forever changes the lives of those around her.  First in a series.

Disclaimer:  As much as I'd like it, these characters don't belong to me.  I'm just using them for fun.  Although, I don't think they have much fun in this story :-)  I'll be sure to send them to therapy before returning them.

 

Choices

By Nicky

 

My Only Choice

 

I'm trying to smile.  I'm trying to feign happiness.  But I can't.  What should be the happiest day of my life is quite possibly the very event that will finally break my spirit.  They tried so hard at the Centre for many years to accomplish that.  But they shouldn't have even bothered.  I seemed to have managed it quite nicely on my own. 

 

I glance to my right, watching the man standing there move his mouth, but I don't register any sounds come out.  This is a mistake.  I shouldn't be here.  I shouldn't be doing this for so many reasons.  But for one very big reason, I have to.  So I am.

 

I notice again the silence.  But this time it's because everyone's looking at me expectantly.  I must have zoned out.  And I think it's my turn to say something now.  Luckily for me, the man standing before me prompts me again for my part and I obediently repeat it this time.

 

"I Marisa, take you Simon to be my lawfully wedded husband."  I don't even bothering to fake enthusiasm anymore.  This moment is beyond surreal.  And I ask myself for probably the hundredth time this week, just how I got into this mess.  I wonder how is it I've come to be standing here today.

 

 

3 days earlier . . .

 

The news hits me like a ton of bricks.  How could this be?  Actually, it's not that hard to figure out the how.  Maybe the better question is why?  Why is this happening to me right now?

 

A knock at my office door finally penetrates the fogginess around my brain and I call out to whoever is there to go away.  Surprisingly, the door opens instead.  I look up and growl at whoever has the nerve to disobey.

 

"I said go away!"  I feel kind of bad when he jumps in fear.  I really don't try to make Broots utterly afraid of me.  At least, not all the time.  Sometimes, I admit, it is kind of fun to see if I can scare him so badly that he wets himself.  It hasn't happened . . . yet.  But, the day is still young.

 

"What's wrong, Miss Parker?" he bravely says. 

 

"Nothing you can help me with," I sigh, turning away from him.  I stare at the still full tumbler of the strongest liquor in my cabinet.  It sits on my desk untouched, the ice slowly melting.  Much like my sanity at the moment.

 

"Let's get out of here," he offers, pulling on my arm.  I only then notice he's standing right over me.  I didn't even see him walk across the room.  My mind is definitely gone today.  But who could blame me with the issue I'm dealing with?

 

I give the glass of scotch one last glance before nodding my head in acquiescence.  I really do need someone to talk to.

 

I'm in a daze the entire trip.  I don't even know where it is he's taking me until we arrive.  His house.  Casa de Broots.

 

"What are we doing here?" I ask absently.

 

"You look like you need to talk.  And based on the look on your face and the big drink you were contemplating, I'd say whatever's on your mind is bad enough that the Centre doesn't need to hear about it."

 

"Smart man," I smile at him.  I walk around his living room, stopping by the fireplace to look at the pictures on the mantle.  I pick up one and trace over the smiling face, a smile coming to my own face.

 

"That's Debbie's latest school picture," Broots tells me.  "I can't believe how much she's growing up.  She used to be my baby, but not anymore."

 

"They do grow up quickly," I agree, my own problems suddenly coming back to mind.  Before I know it, I'm sitting on the couch, sobbing violently on his shoulder.

 

"Miss Parker, just tell me what's wrong," Broots begs, gently stroking my back in long, soothing motions.

 

"Everything," I sniff, pushing away from him.  "I don't know what to do.  Broots, I'm pregnant."

 

Okay, I think I've finally succeeded in making him wet himself.  The look on his face alone is enough to make me start laughing.  But this isn't a laughing matter.  And it isn't a joke.  It's my life and I've managed to ruin it.  Of course, I had some help in this latest endeavor.  You know, 'it takes two to tango' and all of those clichés.  I most definitely had help getting into my current condition.

 

"You're pregnant?" he asks, I guess to be sure I said what I really said.  I just nod my head.

 

"H-h-how?" he stutters.  I just give him an unbelieving look and he shakes his head.  "I guess the obvious way," he says with a little laugh. 

 

"At the Centre, there's no such thing," I tell him.  "But yes, I managed to get myself knocked up the old fashioned way."  I give him a weak smile that is followed quickly by more tears.

 

"How do you feel about this?"

 

"I'm thrilled, can't you tell?" I yell sarcastically at him.  But there's really more honesty in my comment than I realize.  At first, I was shocked.  But I've had a little while for it to sink in.  I'm having a baby.  A little baby is growing inside of me.  And believe it or not, I'm actually pretty excited about it.

 

"Sorry," I quickly apologize to him.  "I didn't mean to snap at you.  This was . . . unexpected, but I'm happy that I'm having this baby.  But having it right now terrifies me."

 

"Why?  Won't the father . . . "  He stops talking when I suddenly look away, unable to meet his glance anymore.  "What about the father?  Do you . . . know who . . . I mean, was this a . . ."

 

"Fling?  One night stand?"

 

"I'm sorry," he blushes.  "I don't mean to imply anything."

 

"I know who the baby's father is.  But he's in no position to be this baby's father," I say sadly.

 

"So the creep just dumps you?" he asks angrily.  I smile at him coming to the defense of my honor, but it isn't necessary.

 

"Calm down, Broots.  I haven't even told him.  I probably won't.  I can't."

 

"But you have to," he insists.  "It's the right thing to do.  He has a right to know."

 

"He can't know he's this baby's father.  Nobody can know.  They'd kill us all if they found out," I cry.  "They'd take my baby from me and then kill me.  I'm not going to let that happen."

 

"They?  They who? The Centre?  Why would the Centre want your baby?" he asks, realization dawning in his eyes.  I can tell he doesn't want to come out and say it, but based on the look on his face, he's already figured out the answer to that question.

 

"They would want my baby because of who its father is," I confess.

 

"Jarod," he gasps.  It's not a question, so I don't answer.  He takes my silence as confirmation.

 

"You said that this was . . . unexpected.  Does that mean you were . . . did he . . . hurt you or anything?"

 

"Broots, no!  It's nothing like that.  He would never hurt me," I say, my eyes wide at what he was implying.  "Jarod and I have been together for awhile now."

 

"Together?"

 

"Sleeping together," I clarify. 

 

"Oh.  So you two are in love?" he asks warily.

 

"Yes.  We are," I say with a smile I can't hide.  I know that's really not what he wants to hear right now.  I'm not blind.  I've noticed that Broots is kind of sweet on me.  But it's the truth.  I love Jarod with my whole heart.  This wasn't just a casual affair we were having.

 

"And that's why this is so difficult," he says, finally understanding the problem.

 

"I can't be with him anymore," I whisper.  "Not with a baby to protect.  We have a hard enough time keeping our relationship a secret.  With me being pregnant and unmarried, someone at the Centre is bound to wonder who the father is.  Then Jarod and I would both be in danger."

 

"But what if you weren't unmarried?" Broots says, sounding suddenly nervous.

 

"Broots, you know Jarod and I can't get married."

 

"What if you weren't married to Jarod?  What if you were married to someone else less desirable to the Centre?  Someone who they wouldn't care about you having kids with?"

 

"I'm pregnant, Broots.  And I'm in love with another man.  Who would marry me under those circumstances?  Sydney?  You?"  I ask jokingly.

 

"Well since you asked so nicely, yes," he says, shocking a gasp out of me. 

 

"What?" I manage to squeak out.  "Broots, I was joking."

 

"But I'm not," he says.  "It makes perfect sense.  Like you were saying, they're going to wonder who got you pregnant.  Unless you don't give them a reason to wonder.  We can get married and they'll assume the baby is mine."

 

"What about Debbie?"  Wait a second.  Where did that come from?  Am I really considering this idea?  I must admit, he has a point.  This idea does have merit.  But I couldn't marry him.  Could I?  Even if it would mean protecting Jarod and our child?

 

"Are you kidding me?  Debbie's crazy about you.  And you see how much she's grown up.  She's had to do most of that without a mother.  With you here, well, she'd have one," he says shyly.

 

"It wouldn't be fair to you.  I'm completely in love with Jarod." I tell him, my final argument.  "I can't love you. Not that way."

 

"I understand that," he says, grabbing my hand and giving it a gentle squeeze.  "But what else are you going to do?  You can't go on the run, not with a baby on the way."

 

He's right.  What else am I going to do?  There isn't a question of whether or not I'm going to have the baby.  I couldn't get rid of it.  So I'm going to have to do whatever it takes to keep it safe.  This is my only choice.

 

"Okay," I say shakily.  "If you're really sure . . . "

 

"I'm positive," he says, giving me a huge smile.  He seems genuinely happy.  Ecstatic, even.  Suddenly I don't feel very good. And I don't think it has anything to do with morning sickness.

 

 

"I Marisa, take you Simon to be my lawfully wedded husband."  I don't know how I manage to say that without crying, but I do. 

 

"To have and to hold from this day forward," the judge starts again.

 

"To have and to hold . . . " I pause and look up at my intended.  Broots has the happiest look on his face.  I know I agreed to do this, but I can't do it this way.  Not by lying to him.

 

"From this day forward," the judge prompts me.

 

"You know what, I think I have my own vows, if you don't mind," I say, watching the look on the judge's face turn from confused to just annoyed.  After his reluctant nod, I turn back to Broots and take a deep breath, trying to figure out what to say.  All I know is that I can't stand here and make promises I don't mean.  Not to him.  Not with what he's doing for me.

 

"When I agreed to this, I was a bit reluctant.  There was so much that I told you I couldn't give you."  I see him nod his head in understanding and know I don't need to elaborate.  He knows I don't love him.  I can't love him.  On this day, I should be giving him my heart, but that's been taken long ago by the man whose child I now carry.  The man who I wish could be standing before me today.  But instead of my heart and my love, I know I must give him something.  So I look at him and promise what I can.  "All I can offer are these words:

 

"I, Marisa, take you, Simon, to be my lawfully wedded husband secure in the knowledge that you will be my constant friend and my faithful partner. On this special day, I give to you in front of all these witnesses my sacred promise to stay by your side as your faithful wife as long as the bonds of our union exist.  I promise to appreciate and respect you without reservation, comfort you in times of distress, encourage you to achieve all of your goals, laugh with you and cry with you, always be open and honest with you, and cherish this sacrifice you've made for me for as long as we both shall live."

 

He smiles at me with tears in his eyes and I feel guilty.  He promised me his love.  I promised him my friendship.  He wants until death do us part and I vowed to stay faithful to him as long as we were married.  Nevertheless, by the power vested to this judge by the state of Delaware, we're husband and wife now.  I get a quick kiss from my new husband and end up pulling quickly away, overcome with nausea that I explain away as pregnancy related. 

 

Why did I allow this?  I could destroy him just as easily as I've destroyed my own life.  I'm going to try not to, but it's inevitable and we both know it.  But there was no other way.  This was my only choice.  I just hope that one day, Jarod will understand.

 

 

Go to Chapter 2 – Letting Go

 

 

   

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