“For so long, I thought it was my fault. If I had been a better daughter. Quieter. More patient. Less demanding. Maybe if I’d been more lovable, she wouldn’t have sought a way out. That was why I didn’t tell you, Mick because I didn’t want you to know I wasn’t enough to live for.”
“That’s not true, Dee. That was your mother’s lack, not yours,” I say. “She should have taken her meds. She should have done everything she could to get better. It was her mental illness that failed you. And it was mental illness that took her life.”
Dee shakes her head. “I keep thinking that I lose everything I love because something’s wrong with me. If I hadn’t considered an abortion, maybe I wouldn’t have miscarried. If had eaten better. Not been so stressed. If I hadn’t run away. If—”
“Ssh…don’t do this to yourself. Your mother’s death isn’t on you and neither is the miscarriage. You deserve to be loved…you deserve to be happy…to have as many babies as you want.”
She draws in a shuddering breath and when she releases it, her voice is barely audible. “I can’t have babies, Mick.”
I angle my head to look at her. I see the tears for yet another loss. A fat drop falls over her bottom eyelid and slides down her cheek.
“Because I was so far along, after my miscarriage I had a…” She pauses, clears her throat, and tries again, her sentences choppy. “I had a D&C—a dilation and curettage. It’s a procedure where they scrape the uterus to remove the…the fetus. After that, I had issues with my periods…bad cramps and heavy blood loss. Test results showed severe…damage to the lining of my…uterus. Doctors said the scar tissue had thickened and hardened. Surgery may be required at some point…but even so, the odds of me ever having a…baby are negligible.”
My heart breaking, I press my mouth to hers and let the sorrow roll through both of us.
“Dee.” I pull back to look into her eyes. But I can’t find the words. She was right, there is nothing I can say or do to fix this.
“I just need you to hold me, okay?” she says through her tears. “All night long…just hold me without letting me go.”
“I can do that.” I gather Dee as close as possible.
Her palm slides across my chest and comes to rest on my heart.
Exhausted, she soon falls asleep, while I lie awake, staring at the ceiling, finding no comfort in the shadows that embrace me.
I lose everything I love.
First, her father, who was too weak-assed to stick around and left his unstable wife with their child. Next, her mother, who abandoned Dee in the most devastating way imaginable. Then there was losing me, her family, and her baby in one fell swoop. And if that wasn’t more than any person should have to handle, she discovered she probably couldn’t have children. No wonder Dee hasn’t ever gotten over the miscarriage—she carries around the aftereffects in her body.
All the grief I feel for her, for our unborn baby, and for the ones she may never have builds in my chest. A gruff noise escapes my throat. I haven’t cried since I was a kid, not even when Cayo died. But here in the dark, with the storm raging outside my window, holding the woman I love, scalding tears pour down my cheeks.
MY EYES OPEN TO A purple dawn peeking through a gap in the blinds. The taps of rain sound like fingernails drumming a glass surface.
The storm is over.
Mick sleeps on his side, snuggled into me. For all our past intimacies, this is the first time we’ve slept together. I incline my head to see his face. He looks peaceful; the demons at bay for now. His breaths are deep and even. His heart is thumping quietly beneath my palm. One of his muscular legs is wedged between mine, and his arms still circle my waist. He didn’t let go.
A jolt of warmth flows through me as I recall the passion with which he took my body last night. It was raw but not emotionless. Rough but only in the best possible way.
He saw my tears and apologized for not being tender when he selflessly set his own grief aside to give me nothing but tender, loving care. Soothing me through my anxiety attack, holding me while I wept, and encouraging me to open up about things I’d kept locked and secret for far too long.
I bared myself to him in every sense of the word. Stripped naked, body and soul. But that was under the cloak of darkness. Not in the light of day. Everything is different in the light of day.
Carefully untangling our limbs, I flip back the covers and inch to the edge of the bed, feeling a delicious soreness between my legs. Not to share a bed again with Mick is a dismal thought.
As my toes gain the floor, he grumbles in protest. I pause and glance over my shoulder to see Mick sweep his arm across the sheet. When he comes up empty, he frowns but doesn’t wake up.
I tiptoe over to the dresser where I saw my keys—right next to the blue velvet box, with my engagement ring inside.It was all I had left of you.Pangs of regret batter my chest like a boxer’s mitt. I pick up my keys and creep to the door. There, I turn to glance at Mick lying amid the rumpled sheets, a sliver of dawn slanting across his beautiful form. Then I silently leave because that’s what you do with a man you can’t have. You leave before you fool yourself into thinking that you can.
I walk across the hall to the guest room and change into my own clothes, which are still cold and wet. I pull a sheet of paper and a pen from my bag. Steadying my hand, I write a note:
I swipe at my tears before they fall to the paper. I fold the note and take it to the kitchen, where I find my phone and the full mugs of mocha still on the counter. I dump out the cups in the sink and place the note against the coffeemaker.
In the foyer, I step into my high heels and at the last minute think to check the alarm system. The flashing green light tells me he didn’t reset it. I ease open the door with a sad breath and quietly close it at my back.
Leaving a big chunk of my heart behind.
AFTER I SHOWER AND CHANGE into fresh, dry clothes at home, I email Lena to reschedule my appointments for the day and send Lexie and Jordyn a text inviting them over tonight. Now that I’ve told Mick and the worst of it is over—I didn’t break into pieces, largely due to him—I want the other people I love to know.
