#SantaHelpers: My Wife's Baby by RM Johnson

My Wife's Baby
by RM Johnson



Does the love for a wife and the jealousy for an infant, warrant murder? 


After ten years of bad dates and worse relationships, Stan is in heaven for he has finally found his soul mate, Erica—a beautiful, caring woman who shares all his beliefs, to include not wanting children. They discussed this over bottles of red wine the night they met and promised, if ever they became a couple, they would remain childless and forever the other’s priority.

One year after being married, Erica tells Stan she’s pregnant: news she’s very happy about. Stan considers talking Erica out of it, but that would mean aborting her child, something he knows Erica would never do.

Two months into the pregnancy, Stan notices changes: times he and Erica enjoyed as a fun-loving childless couple are no longer; Erica’s attention is occupied with all things related to the forthcoming baby, and Stan has gone without sex for months.

The child arrives and things get even worse; Stan feels like an outsider: a stranger living among his wife and her son. Erica gives all her time, attention and love to the infant, leaving none for her husband. Stan becomes envious; he looks at the newborn as a threat, tells himself something must be done—but what? He fights his jealous thoughts, knowing horrible things would happen if he were ever to act on them. But one night while drunk, Stan attempts to make love to his wife but is once again rejected. His pride hurt and feeling disowned, Stan stumbles into the baby’s room with intentions of eliminating his problem once and for all, knowing there can only be one man in Erica’s life. That is the promise his wife had made him on the night they met, and it is the promise he intends to make her keep.


AMAZON READER REVIEWS


5.0 out of 5 stars written by Paula Wheeler
This book will have you on the edge of your seat like all of his books. RM Johnson you did it again. This book make you reflect on relationships, marriages and most of all promises that was made but never kept.


5.0 out of 5 stars written by Amazon Customer
Kindle Edition Verified Purchase

Wow!! Mr. Johnson you truly got me with this story! I was so upset with Stan, through out the entire book, and then...you got me, I never saw that coming! I can't believe you wrote this story the way you did! Readers, you just HAVE TO read this book! Just get ready, and hold on tight, you will be in for a real SHOCK!!

I don't like to give away any parts of a book, but just this one time, I am really tempted! I feel like reading it again, now that I know what happened!! Great job Mr. Johnson!


Excerpt—My Wife’s Baby: I Am Not A Murderer


Twenty stories up, the harsh, cold wind swept across my face, tested my grip, tried to rip them from my hands. Sweat spilled from my brow in large round beads, plopped into the eyes of my wife who dangled from one of my arms. From the other, my thirteen year old daughter clung, crying, begging, “Daddy, daddy! Please don’t let go!”

I can’t remember how we found ourselves here—me hanging, waist deep out the window of our high-rise condo, the two people I loved most in the world, swinging from my ever loosening grasp. My palms were coated with hot sweat, the tendons in my shoulders felt as though they were on fire, would be ripped from their sockets if I didn’t free myself of the weight pulling on them.

Squinting against the pain, so far below us, like tiny diligent ants, I saw the men file from the fire engine—red lights flashing on its roof, attempting to extend some giant ladder, rig a safety net, proposing to catch my wife and child as they plummeted toward the hard concrete. The thought comforted me only momentarily, because I knew those men could not make it happen, that ladder would never reach, the net would never open, at least not in time; a decision had to be made now.

I loved my daughter from the day she was born, from the moment her mother smiled in my face, pressed her warm cheek to mine, whispered in my ear that we were pregnant. I never thought I was the father she deserved, that she was worthy of, but she triumphed in spite of me, always telling me I was her hero, snuggling up to me nights when we watched TV, as though I were her favorite blanket. She made me the best man I could be, forced me to never stop trying to be better. Now hanging from my arm, my little girl glanced down, screamed then turned back to me, wind whipping her hair into her face. I saw the certainty in her eyes; she knew she’d die. I cursed God for putting me here, for making me chose.

“Stan…” my wife moaned, her hands wrapped tight around my wrist, her nails drawing blood from my skin; I saw the red lines crawling down, spiraling around her forearms, but her eyes were calm, she was content, ready to face what she knew was inevitable. “…I’ll be fine. Just let me go.”

My daughter heard her mother, cried out, begged her mom to stop talking like that.

“Dad, you can’t! You have to pull us back up!” My child said. But there was no way that was going to happen, and her mother had to have known the decision I was going to make.

It had taken me a lifetime to find my wife, and when I did, I felt as though I was freed from a search filled with frustration and disappointment, loneliness and uncertainty. After meeting her, I no longer looked back at my mistakes, looked forward to the good I could do, the wonderful life we would have, the beautiful child we would make. We did that.

I kept telling myself we could do it again. The love my wife and I shared could produce another example of our undying devotion to one another, and in that child, we’d see glimpses of the one I had to sacrifice in order to hold onto to my soul mate, to that one in a million I could never recreate or replace. This line of reasoning occurred in a fraction of second, my wife staring up—and knowing me better than anyone alive—she surmised the decision I had reached. Her eyes flashed wide with horror and in her attempt to save our child, she released her hold on me. But I caught her wrist before she fell, held her tighter than I had before.

“No, Stan! No!” My wife cried, begged. “Let me go! Just let me go!”

I turned to my daughter blinking against the tears that practically blinded me. “I love you so much,” I told her.

“Dad?” My little girl said.

“I love you, baby,” I bawled, staring into her eyes, trying to imprint her face forever onto my brain. “I love you so much! God, please forgive me,” I said, shaking my daughter lose, and as punishment for not being strong enough to save them both, forced myself to watch her sink to her death, her eyes filled with terror, one hand stretched out to me, as though I wasn’t the coward that released her, but the hero she had always mistaken me for, that would save her.


( Continued... )

© 2014 All rights reserved. Book excerpt reprinted by permission of the author, RM Johnson. Do not reproduce, copy or use without the author's written permission. This excerpt is used for promotional purposes only.


Purchase My Wife’s Baby: I Am Not A Murderer 

http://www.amazon.com/My-Wifes-Baby-Not-Murderer-ebook/dp/B00P3CHSWI


MEET THE AUTHOR

RM Johnson
is the author of twenty novels to include, The Harris Men, The Million Dollar Divorce, and the soon to be released, Hate the Air series. He holds an MFA in creative writing, is the recipient of the African American Arts Alliance Award among many others, and he resides in Atlanta, GA.

 
 

Popular posts from this blog

Preparing Your Work Space for a Post Trump Election by Gregory Harris

Intimate Conversation with Eartha Dunston

Intimate Conversation with Divas LNPU Book Club