I shuddered at the sickening realization that all of my fears had just been confirmed.
“What was your plan?” I asked, turned my head to face her.
When the silence dragged on, I stood up and pulled her out of her chair and into my arms. She was stiff as a board as I squeezed her tightly against me, breathing in the sweet scent of her shampoo.
“So, the only reason you’re alive right now,” I had to pause, had to breathe through the anguish, the nausea, the fear, but Shiloh nodded against me. “The next time you feel like you want to disappear, you think of me. You. Think. Of. Me. You think about how much it would kill me to have to bury you again. How much I would miss you. How much I love you.”
“That’s not fair,” she mumbled against me.
“I don’t care,” I gritted out, holding her closer. “I don’t care if it’s mean, or if it’s the wrong thing to say. Us meeting…wasn’t so that you would take your life. It was so that you would finallylive.”
Shiloh dropped her shoulders, leaning the weight of her body into mine, and slowly, so slowly, she wrapped her arms around me.
My hands fell to the backs of her thighs and I picked her up, carried her to the bed, and laid with her glued to me, our limbs intertwined, like I might be able to stitch her to my soul and keep her here for all of eternity.
Twenty-One
July 12, Sunday
Emory
I slowly blinked my eyes open, uncertain as to what woke me from my sleep. I turned my head to see the outline of his sleeping form on the other side of the bed. I closed my eyes, sleep already dragging me back under when I felt the familiar pinch in my lower belly. My heart skipped a beat, and I shifted my weight onto my side. I recoiled at the wet sensation. My heart started pounding, my brain now more alert as I slowly sat up in bed, keeping him in my line of sight to watch for signs of him stirring.
The dampness was unmistakable now. My thighs were slick, and I carefully pulled back the comforter.
For a moment I was frozen, staring at the dark stain beneath me, my body flooding with dread and adrenaline. There was no escaping the consequences, but even still I found myself wanting to wait at least until the morning. I wanted some time to myself to feel the simultaneous sadness that a life had ended and gratitude that at least this baby hadn’t suffered here on Earth, suffered through the evils that came with this world. I reminded myself of the belief I’d formed after losing the first baby—thatthis baby would be in heaven too. That they’d get the chance at living in a perfect world instead of this one. That they’d never know pain, sickness, heartbreak.
My heart was pounding so hard and fast I feared he might somehow hear it and wake. So, I swiftly swung my legs to the edge of the bed, holding my breath as I listened and braced for any movements.
Nothing.
I slowly, ever so slowly, inched my way into a standing position from the mattress.
I released my breath as I finally stood upright, ready to tiptoe to the en-suite when I heard him roll over.
I froze, glancing over my shoulder to see him sitting up right.Hell. Oh hell.
“What are you doing?”
My heart raced and my body swayed, wracked by a trembling I couldn’t control. The adrenaline had kicked in, and I was shaking and sweaty.
The lamp switched on, and I dropped to my knees, head down and hands splayed out on the floor in front of me.
“Please, forgive me,” My voice was shaky and weak, and I wished that it was all an act. I strained my ears, trying to gauge what he was thinking. I couldn’t hear his breathing, and he hadn’t moved from the bed.
“Hey, don’t. Just head into the bathroom,” he said groggily.
The comforter rustled and his feet hit the floor.
My stomach dropped and I clasped my hands together, elbows digging into the carpet.
“Please. Not the tub. Not the tub,” I pleaded. “I rebuke you Satan. The Lord is my God. I resist you Satan. My God, expel this evil inside of me. My God, restore health to my mind and body. My God, cleanse me so that this child can live—”
His feet were moving towards me, and I swallowed the sob trapped in my throat.Not again. Please, God. Not again.
“Stop, stop,” he said with an edge of panic I’d never heard him express. “Look at me.”
I flinched when his hand landed on my shoulder, squeezing, trying to pull me into an upright position.
