Every Memory Repeats

Chapter 13

John stared at the child in Isabella's arms, and he knew, he wasn't the father, Marcus was. Isabella knew it too, and with a growing sense of inevitability, she looked up at John with tears in her eyes, and said, "You know, I'd really hoped...I prayed everyday that he was yours..."

His heart was breaking. John felt a pain in his soul unlike any other. He had come to think of this child and his life with Isabella as a second chance, but looking at the child in Isabella's arms, he knew that it wasn't. Knowing that she had kept this from him, that she'd lied to him about something of this magnitude, meant that the trust he'd thought they had, was irrevocably broken. John stared down at the baby in her arms, wishing the child was his, and he said, "But he's not...he's not mine..."

Isabella knew then, that she'd lost him. He was standing there just staring at the infant she held, as if his brain was still trying to process how everything he had expected had suddenly turned upside down. He finally said, "I was wondering why Marcus didn't call you when he was gone all that time. Why he didn't call you when he came back into town. I don't know what happened. I don't want to know what happened—"

"—Marlena had just come home," Isabella interrupted. "I'd left my engagement ring at the house, and I was so broken, John. My heart was broken."

"I don't believe that. Not entirely," John said quietly. "There had to be something between the two of you in order for you to—to...fuck, Isabella!"

"He was my best friend," she whispered. "I trusted him. I don't know what else to say. John, I was hurting so bad."

As much as he wished he didn't, he understood what she was saying. Hadn't he kissed Marlena in her office, after a session because he was hurting and he trusted her? Because he needed comfort, and he sought it from her? He couldn't think about his motives much beyond the comfort she'd provided, because those feelings were shoved down deep nearly every time he saw her. John knew, if he was ever able to allow those deep, intense emotions to the surface, it would be explosive. He observed Isabella's tear streaked face for a brief moment longer, and said, "I—I need to go...I'm sorry, Isabella, but I can't...I can't be here right now..."

His eyes glistened with unshed tears, and she whispered, "I'm sorry, John. I'm sorry, but please...please...I just had the baby." Isabella glanced over at the nurse on the other side of the room, straightening up, but obviously hearing every word spoken, and she said again, "Please, John."

"What's there to talk about? You've been lying," he said, the tears slowly breaking free and streaming down his cheeks. "I can understand what happened between you and Marcus. I can understand that because on some level I know I can never break my bond with Doc, but what I can't understand is the lying. You were planning to marry me, and say nothing—tell me nothing about the fact that this might not be my child. You let me dream. You let me grieve the loss of Sami and Eric, while allowing joy and possibility grow in my heart..."

"I didn't lie...I thought...I thought the chance that he would be Marcus's son...was so low. We were...we were only together once," she sobbed. "And you and I— I wanted so badly for him to be your son."

"Lying by omission is still lying, Izzy B," John said in a choked voice. "And right now I need to leave."

"John! Please!" she begged. "Please! I'm sorry."

"I can't. I can't...when Roman came home I lost my children, and you allowed me to hope and dream that I could have that again. Did you even stop to consider what this would do to me? How I would feel to have another child torn from my heart?"

"If you'd let me explain—"

"You already explained—I need to go. I need to find—"

"—Marlena?" Isabella said bitterly. "Right?"