Broken Dreams Boxset

by Rebecca Barber

  The next morning when I woke, Drew was already gone. The only way I knew he’d even made it home was the dirty clothes in the hamper and the empty mug in the sink. Hurriedly, I got myself ready for work. I’d deal with everything else later. It wasn’t even like Drew was here so I could pick a fight with him. The one I was already scripting in my head. I was over this. It couldn’t go on. I’d had almost enough.

  By seven-thirty I’d already stopped by my favourite café, grabbed a coffee and was booting up my computer. Others started arriving not long after but few spoke to me. I must have put on my best resting bitch face this morning. I should’ve been offended. I wasn’t. I didn’t have the energy to deal with people at the moment. I had other things on my mind.

  I made it to lunchtime before it’d managed to grate on my nerves so badly that I couldn’t stop myself. Digging my phone from my handbag, my frustratingly silent phone, I punched out a message to Drew.

  Maggie: Hi

  I knew it didn’t really say anything, but at the same time it said everything. When the three dots of Drew’s reply didn’t instantly appear, I grabbed my wallet. After shutting down my computer, I took myself out for lunch. Deliberately leaving my phone on my desk. When Drew responded, if he responded, I wanted to make him wait. Hurt him like he hurt me. The problem was I knew myself well enough to know I didn’t have the restraint to make him wait.

  I got to my favourite little Chinese hole in the wall and begged for a table in the back where no one could see me. I felt like a leper eating alone. Normally it wasn’t something I’d ever do, but today I was a more than a little off balance.

  After a quick, unsatisfying lunch I headed back to the office, my stomach rolling the closer I got. I hated that I was putting so much pressure on having a message there waiting for me. I just couldn’t turn it off.

  The screen was blank.

  The screen was fucking blank.

  Checking my message, I could see that it had been read and that made me see red.

  Before I lost complete control, I powered it down, dropped it in the bottom of my bag and then stuffed my whole bag in the drawer. I was betting on the whole, out of sight out of mind mantra. It was bullshit. Complete and utter bullshit. I couldn’t think of anything else. I was tying myself in uncomfortable knots.

  Instead of letting it go, I went in search of my boss. After an impromptu forty-minute meeting, I walked away with a mountain of new work, some of which would mean overtime and require all the brain power I could summon. It was exactly what I needed. A distraction. My body was still a mess after the miscarriage as well as my mind.

  When I next looked up, the office had pretty much emptied out even though it was just after six. The new projects I was working on were definitely having the effect that I needed them to. I was proud of the progress I’d made in just one afternoon. Already I’d come up with a plan of attack and I was excited to sink my teeth into it tomorrow. Collecting my things, I headed home.

  “Where the fuck have you been?” I’d barely gotten my key out of the lock and stepped inside.

  Coming face to face with a fuming Drew was almost comical, and I was forced to bite the side of my cheek to keep from laughing aloud. Ignoring him, I pushed past, kicking off my heels and setting my bag down.

  “Maggie! Where have you been? You’re late. Your phone is going straight to voicemail. I was worried.” One look at him and I knew he wasn’t lying. He really was worried. Good. He damn well should be. Maybe now he’d remember that he actually had a wife.

  “Calm down, Drew. I’m here. I’m fine.”

  “Why are you late?”

  “Seriously, Drew! You’re asking me why I’m late?” I couldn’t hold back another second. I hadn’t planned on losing my shit before I’d even managed to pull on my sweats, but if Drew was here and itching for a fight I wasn’t about to back down. Not tonight anyway. This had been a long time coming.

  “Don’t play games, Maggie. Where the hell have you been?”

  “Like you have any right to ask me that. I was at work. I work too, remember, Drew? You don’t have any right to judge me for anything. Where were you last night, Drew? What time did you come home? Did you even come to bed?” The questions came like a torrent. I barely had time to take a breath.

  “I’m sorry, Maggie. I was just worried.”

  Drew looked like he’d gone nine rounds as Mike Tyson’s punching bag. I shouldn’t have been shocked by his dishevelled appearance. The deep bags under his eyes, the stubble on his chin and his whole being seemed drained and deflated.

  Without arguing any more, I rushed into his arms, praying he’d catch me. More than the conversation we needed to have, one that was long overdue, I needed Drew to hold me and tell me it would all be okay. Tell me that he didn’t blame me. That it wasn’t all my fault.

  The moment his arms wound around my shoulders, I lost it. Tears sprung from nowhere and sobs shook my whole body. He caught me. I hated that I’d doubted he would. After all these years together, I should trust Drew implicitly, and in theory I did. I trusted him with everything – my life, my heart, but I couldn’t trust him with the truth. Not the truth about this. And I hated that.

  The longer we stood there, the harder I cried. Like I knew he would, he always would, he held me and let me get it all out. When I eventually pulled back, I looked up and noticed it wasn’t just my cheeks that were damp.

  Intertwining his fingers with mine, Drew led me over to the couch and we sat down. I felt raw. Exposed. Terrified. Even though I’d known this moment was coming for months now, it didn’t make me any more prepared for it.

  Knowing me the way he did, Drew knew how much I hated confrontation or hard conversations. “Maggie, we need to talk about this. You know we do.”

  “I know.”

  “I don’t want to either. You know that, right?” Nodding pathetically, I tried to pull away, put some distance between us but Drew wasn’t having a bar of it. “How are you feeling now, you know, after what… what happened?”

  “What happened. Drew, we need to call it what it was. Miscarriage. I had a miscarriage.”

  “I know.”

  “Yeah.”

  “How are you doing? And please, be honest with me, Mags.”

  “Mentally or physically?”

  “Both.”

  “I’m okay.” The lie rolled off my tongue so easily it scared me. It was one I’d told so many times now. I’d almost convinced myself it was true.

  “Maggie.”

  “Drew. How are you doing?” I deflected. Maybe if he was talking about himself then he’d let me off the hook.

  “I’m tired, Maggie. So damn tired. All the time. I feel like I let you down…”

  “No!”

  “No, Mags, I did. It was my fault. Then I couldn’t stop it.”

  “Stop!” I couldn’t listen to any more bullshit from him. Drew was punishing himself. “Drew, you did everything you possibly could have. You couldn’t have stopped it. And I know, without a doubt if you could’ve, you would’ve. You need to stop beating yourself up about it.”

  “So do you.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Fucking bullshit!”

  “I…I…”

  “Maggie. You’re a lot of things. You’re my best friend. The love of my life. One thing you’re not is a liar. At least you’re not a very good one. Remember I was the one who found you sitting on the bathroom floor.”

  Fuck! That stung.

  I remembered every single little thing about that night. I’d done everything I could think of to wipe it from my mind, but I knew I never would. Never could. Losing something, someone, my baby, would haunt me forever.

  “What do you want me to say?”

  I yanked myself from Drew’s arms and stomped across the room. Running my hand through my hair, I tugged at it roughly. I could feel the sweat beading on my brow as my chest tightened.

  “Something real. For a start.”

  “Something real?
”

  “Ever since we… since we lost the baby, you’ve been walking around with your head in a fog. And I get it. And I sure as shit am not judging you for it. But around me, when it’s just us, we need to be real. I need you to be. If something’s bugging you, I wanna know. How can I fix it if I don’t know what’s upsetting you?”

  “You can’t fix everything!”

  “I know that.”

  “Do you though?”

  “What are you trying to say, Maggie? If you have something you want to say to me, say it.”

  I hiccupped. Now was the moment. My moment. If I was ever going to let Drew in, tell him everything that was eating at me, everything whirling through my brain, everything stealing my sleep, it was now or never. “I did it.”

  “What did you say?”

  “I did it. It was all my fault. I failed you.”

  “Maggie, no!” Drew reached for me but I stepped back. As much as he was my strength, the last thing I could bare right now was for him to touch me. That’s all it would take. One touch and I’d crumble and I’d never get this out.

  “Yes, Drew. We spent so much money and went through so much shit and for what? We still don’t have a baby. We’re not parents. I couldn’t give you that. I couldn’t make you a dad. All we have to show for it is a loan we struggle to pay each week and all this hurt and pain driving a wedge between us. At one point I thought we were invincible. That nothing could or ever would rupture our little bubble. Turns out I was wrong. We found the one thing we weren’t strong enough to win. I’m not strong enough…”

  “Stop! I’ve heard enough. This is bullshit and you know it, Maggie. None of this is your fault. I don’t blame you. Not at all. Was it all kinds of fucked up that this happened? Absolutely. Was it fair? Fuck no! But none of that’s on you.”

  “I lost… I lost…” the words choked me. But I was so close now, I had to do it. “I lost our baby.”

  “You did nothing wrong.”

  “Maybe if I was skinnier. Or if I ate better. Maybe if I didn’t stress so much. Maybe if…”

  “Enough!” Drew boomed. I’d never heard him so loud or seen him so…so, I guess angry is what it was. Perhaps tinged with disappointment. The look on his face right now was the one that had haunted my dreams.

  “Drew…”

  “No, Maggie. I’m not going to stand here and listen to you beat yourself up about something you had no control over. You did absolutely everything you could; it just wasn’t on the cards for us.”

  Suddenly I was beyond exhausted. Holding everything in for months had drained everything I had out of me. After laying all my cards and my heart on the table, I was done.

  “What do we do now?” I asked nervously, terrified of the answer. My marriage, my whole world was balancing on his answer.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Where do we go from here?”

  Stalking towards me, Drew reached out and held my hips before pressing a soft kiss against the wrinkles between my brows. I breathed him in. He was my Drew. He smelt like sandalwood and home. “Now, we fill our lives with things that are going to make us happy. Things that make you happy.”

  “Like what?”

  I had no idea what my life would look like. What it could look like without kids. I hadn’t given it much thought. I hadn’t wanted to. I guess the time had come now to start trying to figure it out.

  “I don’t know. But why don’t we figure it out together?”

  “Together?”

  “Yeah. Together. The way we always have.”

  “Sounds perfect.”

  “So, I have an idea.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Why don’t you go have a hot bath and relax while I order pizza?”

  My stomach chose that moment to grumble loudly and agree for me. I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d had pizza. I’d been trying to be good for so long, even the idea of a slice or two of greasy, cheesy pepperoni pizza had my mouth watering.

  For a while, things got better. Or we got better at pretending they were. After an impromptu holiday to Fiji – a week filled with lazing on beaches, indulging in delicious cocktails, eating one too many croissants from the buffet and just hanging out together, life seemed like it was back on the right track.

  When we returned to reality we settled into a comfortable rhythm. Possibly too comfortable. Rarely did we actually put on clothes that didn’t have an elastic waist band and step out into the world. Our nights were cuddled up on the couch with a book or a movie.

  I took on new challenges at work trying to keep my mind busy. It worked. For a while anyway. Only in the moments when sleep eluded me and I was lying in bed with Drew snoring beside me did I let my mind wander and dream of all the things I wanted but would never have. We’d discussed trying again, but decided against it. A huge part of me was relieved. If it was what Drew wanted then I would’ve done it. I would’ve done anything. But going through it again, all the injections, failed tests, bloating, migraines and the excruciating emotional hell was the last thing I ever wanted to do. I’d survived it once. Barely. I wasn’t convinced I could do it again. We couldn’t do it again.

  I was cooking dinner when Drew came home soaked to the bone and headed straight for the liquor cabinet. When he dumped three fingers of scotch into a tumbler and downed it in one quick gulp, I knew whatever happened next wasn’t going to be pretty. Drew didn’t drink a lot and for him to come home and be into the booze before even saying hello or taking off his tie, nothing good was headed my way, of that I was sure.

  “What’s wrong?” I turned the burner off under the sauce that was bubbling on the stove and sat down on the bar stool.

  “Nothing.” He was already pouring his second. Bullshit there was nothing wrong. Something was definitely wrong. Very, very wrong.

  Even though he was dripping all over the place, now wasn’t the time to start an argument. I’d mop it up later. By the looks of things, a wet floor was the least of my worries. Halfway through his second drink, Drew tugged his tie off and toed off his muddy shoes, abandoning them where they fell.

  With anxiousness creeping over me, I got up and poured myself a glass of wine. Even though I had no idea what was coming, I could see I was going to need to steel myself for it. Had I have known, I would’ve opted for something stronger. A fuck tonne stronger. I doubt jet fuel could’ve numbed me enough to be able to hear this.

  Sitting at the kitchen bench, I waited for Drew to talk. I’d known him long enough to know me pushing him wasn’t going to get us there any faster. If I even looked like I was going to push, he’d clam up and I’d get nothing. Better to let him take his time and get there on his own than force it.

  Instead of sitting beside me, I watched as Drew pushed his hair off his forehead, leant against the bench and folded his arms over his chest. Looking down, I found my glass empty and my throat dry.

  “I need to tell you something.” Drew’s voice sounded strained.

  “Okay.”

  “I don’t want you to get upset though.”

  Now I wanted to throw up. Instead, I nodded. My mind was in overdrive. It was running through a million and one different scenarios and none of them had a happy ending.

  “I don’t… I don’t love you anymore.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  MAGGIE

  PRESENT DAY

  I was packing the last of my things into my suitcase feeling defeated and deflated. I’d come all this way and now my adventure was over and I was returning to my life. The one I had no idea what it looked like anymore. There were times when I was sitting in the back of the Jeep, silently watching the best that Africa had to offer when I could pretend, even if it was just for a moment, that this life was real. Watching the sunrise over the mountains or spending sunset sipping gin and tonics on the banks of the waterhole.

  Frustrated, I swore, pushed the suitcase on the floor and grabbed my swimmers. I hadn’t been shopping since I’d left. Not once. It
wasn’t like there was a shopping centre down the road, yet for the life of me, I couldn’t squash it all back in. Giving up, I stripped off, pulled on my swimmers and climbed into the hot tub on my private patio. If I was down to only hours to go, I was going to take advantage of every second.

  The night air was cool and my breath was coming out in white puffs in front of me. In the quiet, I could hear the sounds of the African bush surrounding me. Somewhere close, a roar interrupted the silence and my skin pebbled at the noise. It was a reality check which set my pulse skyrocketing. When the bubbling slowed, I climbed out, ducked inside and grabbed the bottle of champagne and a glass. Usually I didn’t drink champagne, the bubbles went to my head and I ended up with the mother of all hangovers. Today, I didn’t care. After lighting a few candles, I reset the timer and climbed back in.

  By the time I got out, I was drunk, my fingers were wrinkled and I was already half asleep. Patting myself dry with one of the fluffy white bath towels, I peeled off my swimmers and slipped between the sheets.

  Waking up my last morning in Africa with yet another hangover wasn’t fun. Sadly, it was one I deserved and had no one else to pin the blame on. This was all on me. Cursing the alarm, I briefly considered staying where I was. Warm and cosy beneath the covers until the headache passed. But I was still looking for my elephant. Falling out of bed, my toes froze when they touched my wet swimmers. With only fifteen minutes before the Jeep rolled out and my desperate need for coffee before I was fit for human consumption, I hurried through my morning routine.

  I survived two hours of bumping, excited squeals and singing before I had to beg Darrell to pull over so I could throw up. Rochelle, a very chatty American held my hair as the bottle of champagne I’d inhaled made its reappearance.