Welcome to the Family

“Confided in me was your heart,” I sang, and it took all my strength not to burst into tears again. “I know it’s hurting you, but it’s killing me.” Rather hurting me and killing her, I thought. Finally, I was done. Unholy Confessions was the last song, the encore. “Thank you, Oregon, it’s been a great time with you guys tonight,” I screamed into my microphone and let out another of my infamous satanic growls. My thoughts, though, were with Vicky again.

It was the fifth week of her hospital stay, and honestly it didn’t look good. She was improving, yes, but she would have problems with her bad heart forever, even after the surgery. I wasn’t sure how to feel about her not telling me about her weak heart. I would have done anything not to upset her, not to trigger this mental and physical breakdown, but it was too late. I phoned with the doctors frequently, and they kept telling me that it would have surfaced sooner or later, but I felt so guilty. I mean, I had been the one to put her through all this...

I had been nothing but honest with her doctors, told them everything about us. Also, that we were broken up or on a break because I cheated. I still felt guilty for how ill she was, although they told me it was merely her heart. Still, I had been the one to trigger the symptoms. But they said it was important to know about them as early as possible, so she wouldn’t just one day have a stroke out of the blue and die.

Her parents told me not to worry, too. They said she never spoke about her condition, not even to them. It was as if she thought if she didn’t think about it, it might go away. But it didn’t. Still, I felt like I had the right to know about something as important as that, but then again it was her choice to make who to tell about it and who not to.


It had been forty days since I last saw her, and almost ninety since I last kissed her the day I went to Mexico. I sighed as Johnny handed me another beer. Four days ago, she had the cardiac surgery I paid for. Everything went well, Edith had reassured me, but apparently it was a lie.

Today she called me and told me Vicca was moved to a quarantine room. Her wound had infected with hospital germs, and so had her spinal access, where they had given her the narcotics. There was a 70% chance that from now on, she would be paralyzed.

I didn’t care, though. I loved her, and I wanted her, no matter if she could walk or not. No matter if she would never have my children or even have sex with me, I loved her. We’d find a way to have children, become a family. There was nothing I longed for more than a family. I promised her parents that as soon as Vicky got out of the hospital, I’d marry her and never leave her. I’d make everything up to her, and I knew it was what she wanted. I could read it in her eyes, she wanted to tell me, but she was too weak, still.

Her parents read me her incomplete letters on the phone and Joseph translated all the German words, so it made some more sense. They said they didn’t make any sense, and that it was the fever and the medications, but to me they did make a lot of sense. Her mind was a mess, and she’d tried to just write down the random words, hoping they would go away.

It hurt so much to be away from her. In almost every single song I sang, I found some lines that made me think about her. Nightmare, since it was a real nightmare. Seize the Day because well, everything about the song reminded me of my current situation. Unholy Confessions, oh God, it made me feel the worst. It was all my fault, and I knew it. Everybody did.

Dear God. Even though I wrote this song for Valary years ago, it made me think about Vicky this time. After the first show, where I had to stop singing or I would burst in tears, we decided to replace at least Seize the Day and Dear God. Our fans were agitated since those songs were classics, but what could I do? If I couldn’t sing them right, then I’d rather sing something else right than just their favorites half-heartedly.

It was okay, though. Critical Acclaim and Beast and the Harlot were nice songs, too, and I didn’t think about her as much. Almost Easy was hard, but I just focused on the word “mother” whenever I heard it.


I didn’t notice that the guys left the bus to go partying, that I was alone in here. They were understanding and nothing but patient at first, but by now they’d gotten fed up with me and my constant sadness, and I understood it. Zacky listened to my whining when we were driving, and so did Johnny and Syn, but at nights they had something better to do.

The bus door swung open and I was almost glad I would finally get some distraction for a change. Michelle came inside. She, too, suffered from Vicky’s sudden bad state, but she didn’t blame me since she saw me that night.

“Hey Matt, how are you holding up?” she asked, taking a seat right next to me. “Well,” I said, “been better, but I’ll live.” “Listen, Matt,” she began, shifting back and forth uncomfortably, “I brought someone who’d like to talk to you, and before you rip that person’s head off, and mine, too, will you please listen to what that person’s got to say to you?”

I knew who it was, and talking to that person was out of question. “No,” I replied. She just stared at the ground and for some seconds, I wondered if she even heard my answer. “Take her and go home right now,” I ordered loudly. But in that moment, the door swung open again and my still-wife entered.

She looked nice in her pretty grey and pink casual dress with the flat, fluffy boots and her favorite pink bag that I got her for her 30th birthday. With an uncertain, soft expression she slowly moved closer to me and she stayed standing in the middle of the bus, halfway to where I was sitting in the back row. The pale moonlight and dim lights inside here made her blond hair shine.

It was strange. All the hatred, all the bad thoughts toward her somehow subsided, now that she was standing in front of me. She was just a person I loved and lost, someone I shared beautiful and ugly memories with. “It’s fine, Miche,” she spoke in a low volume, “I told you he wouldn’t want to see me voluntarily.” Michelle nodded and slowly walked to the exit. But it was fine, somehow I knew this time we wouldn’t fight. Val continued, “see, seems like I do still know some things about you.” She forced a chuckle.

“Matt, I didn’t come here without a reason,” she said, and I heard myself grunt, “Well that reason better be good.” I didn’t want to be that rude to her. But somehow I was. “Matt, you know you and I had this… thing in Mexico,” she began and I felt my muscles tense. “First of all, I want to apologize. I swear I have no memories of this evening, and it wasn’t my intention to get with you in any way.” I looked into her face and I knew she was telling the truth.

“But Matt, something happened. I’m just gonna say it… Matt, I’m pregnant.” She stared at me with sorry eyes. Fuck, pregnant? “And you’re sure it’s…” I didn’t dare finish. “Yeah Matt, it’s yours. It can only be yours, and I swear I’m telling you the truth.”

Tears started running down her face. Even after all this time, I couldn’t bear seeing her so agitated. I stepped closer and pulled her into an embrace, letting her cry on my shoulder.

Wow, I’m becoming a father. I don’t know what to say. I fathered my soon-to-be ex-wife’s child. I’m such an idiot. What will we do? I felt my t-shirt starting to get wet. Oh no, the prenup. Suddenly I felt a rash of angst. I would never get to see my child if I divorced Valary. Tears started to form in my eyes as well, and I was too fed up to even try to hold them in.


We didn’t speak for a long time. But after what felt like hours, she finally broke the silence. “Take me back, Matt. Please. It’s best for our child. It needs a father and a mother.” I sighed. As much as I wanted a family, I didn’t think I was able to leave all my thoughts about Vicky behind. I loved her, not Valary. But did I really want to risk never knowing my own flesh and blood? When Vicky would possibly never have children or never even recover?

Val seemed to sense my hesitation. “Matt, it’s fine if I’m not the one you wanted. It’s just… I want this life, for me and my child. We can be a family. Maybe… maybe this child will heal us…,” she whispered, crying even harder. I didn’t know what to say, so I just remained silent.

Notes

So, shit hit the fan. I hope this chapter from Matt's POV is a good explanation why Vicky is so miserable now.
What do you think will Matt choose?