The baby.
The bargain.
It all just keeps happening too fast and I can’t keep up. And there is a wheezing noise that keeps getting louder and I can’t think.
“Hey.” Marcus grabs my arms and I realize it’s me. I’m wheezing.
I can’t breathe.
My skin is burning and freezing and everything is too dark where my vision keeps narrowing to fine points.
It’s all crashing down on me and I can’t process.
I can barely stop him when he scoops me up and marches with me to the terrace. The doors are kicked open and I’m flooded with an ocean of frigid, Pacific air.
“Breathe. That’s it. Slow. Inhale. Slower. Inhale. Let it out. That’s it. Good girl. Nice and easy. Again.”
I follow his gentle cadence. The hypnotic rhythm of his heartbeats. Every inhale pulls sharp claws of air down into my lungs and expels a plume of breath in return.
“Okay?” he asked when I’m no longer hysterical.
Ashamed, I nod and let myself be led back inside. I’m taken straight to the bed and tucked securely beneath the covers with him molded protectively around my back.
“I have you,” he tells me gently against the back of my shoulder. “I will never let anything happen to you or the baby. You will never be alone.”
He doesn’t understand.
And it’s not his fault.
How can he respond the way I need when I can’t tell him without getting him killed? How can I voice my fears when I don’t know what they are?
I shut my eyes and let the steady patter of his heart against my back guide mine to the same pattern.
“What if I die?” I whisper, blurting the words into existence. “What if I don’t see the baby and it grows up never knowing whoI am or the boys?” Tears slip the corners of my eyes and soak into the pillow. “Promise me that you will keep it safe and…”
I open my eyes to darkness and silence.
I’m still in bed. Marcus’s arms are still securely tight around me, but there is a familiar weight of deep night pressing into the room. That hum that only exudes through time and space when it’s well after midnight. The way Marcus is snoring, he’s been asleep a while.
I don’t shut my eyes again.
Too afraid of losing more time. I can only lie here, still and broken as the life inside me rolls and kicks the top of my belly. It’s sharp enough that Marcus grunts and shifts, loosening his grip.
I take the opening and slip off the mattress. It’s not as easy as it used to be. There’s a bit of wobbling before I’m on my feet. I cross quietly to the door and slip out into the corridor.
The candle and iron holder are right in front of me as if waiting. Both sit on a table I don’t remember. Lit. Tiny flame bobbing excitedly as I approach.
I question nothing.
I gather the light and move through the rows of endless rooms. The miles of turns and stairs. I move past blank windows looking across a world layered by snow and darkness.
All the while, my brain hums. My thoughts are a white noise pushed so far down that I don’t think I’m having any, or I’m having them all. It’s a melting pot of everything and I just let it all melt. Dissolve from existence. There is nothing I can change and no one I can turn to who will understand. I am truly alone in a way that carves a hole in my chest. A gaping wound that burns at the edges as I follow the familiar path between the rooms that meant the most to them and pray that this time … this time they will be there.
But they’re not.
It’s only me.
“And you now, I guess,” I whisper, brushing my hand along the bump. “I’ve brought you into this cruel world and I am sorry. I’m sorry for the pain you will suffer. I’m sorry for all the days you will be sad and alone.” I wipe my cheeks. “I’m sorry that I may not be here to tell you that you are loved and wanted. That I would give anything to hold you and kiss your tears.”
