I get why people don't divorce—it's not paperwork, it's a punishment. A labyrinth of nightmares.
But none of it touches the bigger nightmare: Ben.
First, his flight was delayed. Then he was home but... not.
Day one: straight to the hospital.
Day two: ER disaster, I'll call soon.
Day three: collapsed projects, collapsed excuses, collapsed me. No hello, not even a glimpse of his shadow in my doorway.
And me, stupid me, waiting like some parody of a lovesick fool. Yoga mat unrolled, but I can't remember what exhale feels like. Supermarket trips, hoping for the chance encounter that never happens.
My boyfriend lives one floor up, but the moon seems closer.
By day five, at ten o'clock, the knock finally comes. I rip open the door and there he is, in his scrubs, head bowed, like he already knows what's coming.
"You," I spit, arms over my chest. "I don't know if I should kiss you, punch you, or scream until the cops show up."
"Emma." He pulls air into his chest like it weighs tons. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."
I blink, stunned at how repentant he sounds, and step aside.
He shuffles across the room to the barstool and sinks onto it, head down, eyes low until they finally lift to me.
Really? No arms? No kiss?
My blood calcifies, then boils.
"That's it?" I snap, standing in front of him. "This is the reunion? After nine days? Five of them in San Francisco, and you couldn't find two seconds to show me you're alive? I didn't sleep. Couldn't eat. What the hell is going on with you?"
"I know. I'm such a fucking asshole, I'm sorry." His hand flies to me, wanting me to take it, but when I don't, he slams it onto his thigh. "I should have been here. I should have crawled to you on my knees."
My eyes narrow. "What are you talking about?"
"I'm sorry you had to wait. It was just... a lot. These days were a nightmare."
I take him in properly. He looks terrible. Not my sunlit Ben, who carried me laughing across the bedroom. There arecreases in his shirt matching the ones in his face. I wonder if the ER wrung him out, made him pay this much for taking so many days off? But it doesn't matter. He doesn't get to disappear on me, then crawl back with nothing but sorry.
"Stop apologizing. Stop." My fists curl by my thighs. "Tell me why you left me waiting."
"Can you sit down?" He points at the stool next to him.
"No."
"Please."
"No!"
"Listen to me. You should sit down." His voice tips from pleading into command but it won't work this time.
"No. Just speak. Or I swear I'll smash everything in this place. I've had enough," I snap.
When he sees how unwavering I am, he pulls on his hair until it spikes, sucks in air, and then looks at me. His eyes plead. They crumble. "There was... a pregnancy."
I blink, my mind stuttering. My mouth drops. "Did something happen to Mara?"
He drags in another breath. "No. Not... not her."
