“So, you’re just giving up. You’re going to just die and leave us behind?” I didn’t think it was possible for a person to create as many tears as I have lately.
“Dammit, Carson, do you think I want to? I can’t keep having this discussion with you! I don’t have a fucking choice in the matter. I’m done talking about this.”
His gaze drops to the envelope on the counter and pain registers on his handsome features. He grabs for the envelope and tears it open.
“Maddox, don’t.” My hand covers my mouth as he reads the paper.
“It’s a girl.” Maddox squeezes my hand and more tears fall down my face. I look over at my boyfriend and he has tears of his own pooling in his gorgeous eyes.
“We’re having a little girl.” His voice is watery, raspy. He stands slowly and comes to me to kiss me. “I’m sorry, Carson. I’m so sorry.”
Words can’t describe the pain I’m feeling.
Twelve
Carson
I’m not happy. I’m pregnant and in love and yet every day I wake up with bated breath, wondering if today will be the day when I lose everything. It’s now been almost three months since Maddox was given his prognosis and each day gets harder than the last. I’m seven months pregnant and working overtime as much as I can with a boyfriend who’s waiting for me at home, dying.
Most nights I hate coming home. And that thought hurts me and scares me.
I hate seeing him sick. I hate being afraid that when I open the door, he’s going to be dead. I feel guilty for wanting a normal life and one night off. But cancer doesn’t give you any nights off. Even in remission, the fear and anxiety of return lingers.
Some people may say that fear makes you feel alive. Just for once, I’d like to feel at peace and unafraid.
I have two more months left of this pregnancy and I’m praying Maddox lives long enough to meet our baby. When my shift is over, I make a last minute decision to visit my family tonight. I’ll pick up takeout on my way home, not that Maddox is eating much these days.
I call my boyfriend to tell him the plan, but the phone rings and rings until his voicemail picks up. He’s probably just in the shower or bathroom or sleeping. I wait a few minutes and call back, but get voicemail again.
I turn my car around and rush home, praying to every God imaginable that today isn’t the day. I run up the stairs to avoid waiting for the elevator and by the time I get to our fifth floor apartment I’m out of breath. I take out my keys, but I’m grateful to find the door unlocked.
“Maddox? Baby, where are you?” His phone is on our table with a half-full glass of water. My blood pressure rises as I take each step further into our apartment. “MADDOX?” His name is a sob on my lips.
I run to our bedroom and find the black-out curtains drawn and a body under our covers. I can’t tell if he’s breathing under the feathery duvet. I bolt to his side and shake him as my breath gets caught in my throat.
“What time is it?” I collapse onto the bed on top of him as much as I can with a huge bump. Thank God.
“You scared the hell out of me.” I kiss him hard and hug him. Any displaced anger and resentment I’ve felt toward him fly out the window. I know none of this is his fault, but it’s easy to put the blame on him and make him the easy target.
“I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t think my hour nap would turn into four.” I lay my head on his chest, not wanting to let go.
“I was heading to my parents’ house and when you didn’t answer…” My voice is thick and my sniffles say everything I can’t.
“I’m sorry. I’m okay. Why don’t I come with you to your parents? I haven’t seen them in a while and I could use some of Lucas’ weed.” I smack his arm but a smile pulls at my lips, my first genuine smile in God knows how long.
After we get to my childhood home, my parents squeeze us both extra-long. “What are you guys doing here? Is everything okay?” My mom flits her hands over me, fluttering around my belly with concern etched on her features.
“We’re fine, Mom. Just here for a visit.” My parents enter host mode when all I want is a normal night with my perfect parents and imperfect siblings.
My parents add two extra place settings to the table and when dinner is ready, my brother and sister come down, offering their respective ideas of a heartfelt greeting. Lucas promises Maddox some weed for the road and Flynn makes a crude joke about out-of-wedlock teenage pregnancy. She’s a real gem.
After we eat, Maddox asks to talk to my dad alone and I take the opportunity to confide in my mom.
“How are you really doing, sweetheart?”
“I’ve been better. I’m taking it day by day. I just—I can’t help but feel guilty and selfish for wanting more, you know? I know it’s not his fault that he’s sick and there’s nothing we can do. But I’m angry all of the time and when I’m not angry I’m depressed. I can’t help but feel like we’re sitting around waiting for him to die and not living life.” I try to keep my voice down since Maddox is sitting in the next room, but the longer I talk the more emotional I get.
“So stop walking on eggshells. Live your life. In a couple months, you’ll have a whole other life to take care of, so you need to take care of yourself now. Go on a babymoon. Don’t waste what time you two have left.” I listen to her and I make a mental note to discuss it with Maddox when we get home.
A knock on the wall startles me and I turn around to see my haggard and exhausted boyfriend. “Baby, can we go? I’m tired.” I nod and pull my mom into a tight hug. I go to say bye to my siblings, who couldn’t care less that I’m leaving, and save the last goodbye for my dad.
He pulls me into his office with a serious look on his face. He opens his mouth to say something, but my mom’s hollering pulls me away.
“Carson, get out here, now!”
Maddox is on the floor passed out and my mom is on the phone with 9-1-1. Sobs break through the surface as I call his parents to meet us at the hospital.
҉ ҉ ҉
Maddox wakes up in the hospital and he has no recollection of what happened or how he got here. His breathing is short and noisy; I can tell we don’t have much time left and all the shattered pieces of my heart are splintering smaller to make room for more heartbreak.
His room is packed full of my family and his, but I refuse to leave his bedside. My hand is holding his and the contrast is astounding. I’m not sure how I didn’t notice it before. My usually alabaster hand looks tan compared to his and his is ice cold. I keep one hand entwined with his and the other holding my belly. I can’t think about our daughter without falling into a fit of sobs.
We told him he passed out and he’s not sure why. The doctors and nurses are running more tests on him and I’m terrified at what they’ll find. Anything short of a miracle at this point will devastate me.
I thought we had more time.
“Can Carson and I have a minute alone?” The room clears with tearful nods until it’s just the three of us. I kiss his arctic fingers, blowing on each of them in an attempt to warm them up.
“I have another fun fact for you.” Even now he manages to make me laugh. A laugh that mixes which a sob, but a laugh nonetheless.
“It better not be depressing.”
“Did you know…” he winks and since his voice is a raspy whisper, I lean in to hear every syllable, “that I fell in love with you the moment I met you. And that even though all of this was unexpected, I wouldn’t change a minute of us for the world. You’re going to be a great mom, Carson. I’m sorry I won’t be here to help you to raise our little girl.”
I wipe the tears from his eyes. “Don’t say that.”
“I have to say it. I love you with my whole heart and soul and with my whole body, the broken parts included. I’m been dealt the worst hand imaginable, but you’ve made every day the best day of my life. You’ve given this life of mine meaning and my only regret is not being by your side longer. I know you’ve been worried, but you will be fine and our daughter
will be fine because she has you. And all those people out there? That’s your village, Carson. I want you to know that I’ll be by your side every day watching over you and our baby.”
“I hate this. It’s not fair.” I kiss him through my tears and our lips are salty. “I love you.”
“I want you to be happy. You’re young and beautiful and you’re going to find someone to love you. Don’t push them away.”
“I don’t want to hear this.”
“I know. Promise me, baby, you’ll be okay. I can’t leave you any other way.” I nod. Though I don’t believe it, it’s what he needs to hear right now.
He closes his eyes and I run into the hallway to grab his family. We’re all sobbing and trying to share stories and laugh. We hear every deep intake of his watery breath and I feel his chest rise and fall with the effort. Until suddenly, the room becomes too quiet. I didn’t know that last inhale would be his last.
The heartbreak is like nothing I’ve ever felt before and the panic attack overwhelms me. I can’t leave his side. I don’t want to.
Until my water breaks.
I’m rushed to the maternity ward. The nurses are mumbling about trauma and grief being enough to push me into labor, though I’m two months early. Now our daughter will have to fight for her life, too.
Please, God, I can’t lose them both.
Part Two
PRESENT
Thirteen
Wren
“Wren, can you come into my office for a moment?” Mr. Humphrey, one of my bosses at H+J Architecture, beckons me into his oversized glass office. I save my Revit model I’ve been working on, close it out, and grab my notepad before heading into the room.
“What can I do for you, sir?” My bosses are incredible and deserve nothing but the utmost respect. The architecture business isn’t easy, but they make it fun and a good place to work. Plus, I’m due for a promotion, so a little ass kissing never hurt anyone.
“How many projects are you working on at the moment?” I’m clocking in sixty hour weeks already, but since I don’t have a family like most of these other guys, one more project can’t hurt, right?
“Five, but the Bradford house is almost complete, so I have some time.” Mr. Humphrey nods in appreciation and adjusts his glasses on the bridge of his nose.
“I admire your work ethic. Tom had taken on this project and already met with the client, but because of his accident last week, he has to drop the assignment. I was hoping you would take over for him. He’s not far in the process, but here are his notes and initial sketches and the client’s contact information.” I take all the paperwork and head back to my desk. It’s a damn good thing I love my job.
The rest of the afternoon passes before I get a chance to look at my new project. I attempt to call him or her, but there is no answer. I leave a brief message, but I’ll worry about that tomorrow before the final walkthrough of the Bradford house. I’ll be happy to be rid of that couple. Nothing could make them happy.
“You ready to go?” Ethan, my coworker, and one of my only friends, hovers over my desk. A regular eighty plus hour work week makes it hard to maintain relationships of any kind, meaning a lot of my colleagues become friends.
“Dude, I’m busy as hell and Humphrey gave me another project to work on. I’m not leaving here anytime soon.” I glance at the clock and notice it’s already a quarter to seven. Great.
“Bro, you’re not spending your thirtieth birthday alone at work. Get your ass up and come with me to the bar. You should at least get laid and then you can promptly kick her out and come into work early tomorrow.” I power off my computer and clasp a hand on his shoulder.
“Just dinner. No sex. I don’t need a relationship right now.”
“Part of being a bachelor is having a bunch of sex with different women, you know that, right?” He gasps and I look over at him feeling skeptical. “Dude, you can tell me anything, you know that, right? Are you gay?” he whispers and I punch his shoulder.
“What? No. Plus if I was, I still don’t need a relationship at all. Man, woman, or getting a fucking dog. I’m too busy for that.” I punch the button to the elevator a little harder than I should because I’m sick and tired of this same bullshit conversation. Whether it’s Ethan, my parents, my sister, or the fucking office secretary, I don’t need any more lectures.
We head out of the building and walk a few blocks to the nearest bar. Since it’s a Wednesday night, the place isn’t crowded, but that doesn’t stop the nondescript bar from blaring country music as loud as the stereo lets them.
Almost the minute we walk in the door, my phone vibrates against my thigh. I glance down and it’s a number that looks vaguely familiar, but I can’t place since it’s not already in my contacts. I hold up a finger and head back outside to take the call.
“This is Wren.” Smokers outside the dingy establishment all but blow smoke in my face. Bunch of uncultured assholes.
“Hi, Mr. Valenti? My name is Carson Fletcher and I believe I missed your call earlier. I’m sorry to phone you back so late.” The sweet lilt of her voice screams her nervousness through the phone. Her tone is breathy, shaky, and girlish, like she’s twelve years old. What the hell did I get myself into?
“Yes, Mrs. Fletcher, I believe in the message I left you I stated I’d try to call you again tomorrow to debrief you, but I’ll quickly fill you in now.” I’m cut off before I can continue.
“It’s Ms. Fletcher. Just for the record.” Her curt tone indicates I pissed her off, but that’s mighty fine by me since she’s calling so late anyway.
“As I was saying, your original architect, Tom Dietrich, had an accident last week and is unable to continue working with you. Your project has been handed off to me, so I’d like to meet with you to go over the sketches Tom gave me so I can get a better feel of what you’re looking for. When is a good time for you to meet?” She exhales loudly on the other end and there’s a long pause. I can hear the whisperings of her attempting to work out her schedule to meet with me.
“Is waiting until Monday afternoon okay?” Her nerves are back, but I breathe out a sigh of relief. Monday gives me a full weekend to look at the initial sketches and make a game plan. Plus, I’ll be finished with the Bradford house then.
“I’ll see you Monday, Ms. Fletcher.” I walk back inside to grab a beer and a bite with my friend, but I see he’s already occupied.
Why am I surprised?
“Wren, my man. Ladies, this is the birthday boy. Treat him to a real good time, will ya?” Throwing a few bills down on the bar and finishing a beer he must’ve ordered while I was on the phone, Ethan leaves. Son of a bitch.
I’m a simple man. I don’t need constant attention or company. I don’t mind being a bit of a loner and not having a ton of friends or family to surprise me with an extravagant thirtieth birthday party like some people might want. I’m not a guy who’s ever been into casual sex and taking risks. I like methodical decision making. I like precision and paying attention to details and seeing things other people might not see at first look. I’m a fucking architect for Christ’s sake. Though I work closely with people, I’m not necessarily a people person.
But I can’t deny that it still fucking sucks sitting in a bar alone on my birthday. Not even y closest friend is willing to spend time with me. Instead, he dumps me off on two chicks, thinking that’s what I want.
It’s pretty telling when my “closest” friend doesn’t know what I want or what I like.
Yeah, the girls are hot, but it’s not happening.
The connections I make with the few people in my life are real. Those are the only people I let in past the hardness of the wall around my heart. Few people are capable of penetrating the barrier and no one has in a long time. Eventually, they give up, thinking I’m hopeless, and maybe I am.
So, instead of sitting around making small talk with these two women with bleached blonde hair, wearing outfits the employees at Hooters would be envious of, I throw a tip
down on the bar for the drink I didn’t order and leave.
I’ll grab Chinese takeout on my way home.
Happy fucking Birthday to me.
Fourteen
Carson
“Ava, let’s go, we needed to leave five minutes ago,” I yell from the living room, but my only response is radio silence. I take a deep breath and count to ten before exhaling. The deep breathing exercise keeps me grounded and it helps me not rip out a chunk of her gorgeous auburn hair.
I walk down the hall and open the bedroom door to Ava’s room. The place is destroyed and she sits perched on her twin sized bed attempting to tie her pink converse shoe. My heart can’t help but swell at the sight. She looks so much like her father.
“Do you need help with that, sweetheart?” My five year old has a pink tongue sticking out between her lips as she focuses on tying her tiny shoes.
“No. Did you know Rachel from school can already tie her shoes?” She sounds so much like her father when she says things like this. I know Maddox is watching over her and is beaming from the skies.
“I appreciate your enthusiasm and competitive nature, but why don’t we practice tying in the car, okay?” I’m not above bribing her, but it seems today she’s in a good mood. Spending time with her grandparents always puts her in the best mood—likely because of all the sweets they sneak her when I beg them not to.
I buckle her into her seat in the back of my white Lexus SUV and hit the road. I have to meet with the new architect in fifteen minutes and considering it takes twenty minutes just to get to my parents’ I have no chance in hell of getting there on time. Talk about a great second impression to match my charming first.
I never speed with my daughter in the car, but the second I drop her off and place a kiss on her perfect little cheek, I book it downtown to H+J Architecture.
I don’t know how I feel about this new architect. He was curt and balancing on the line of rude on the phone. Then again, I did call him after hours, but what does he expect? I have a child. I can’t be at the phone constantly.
Selfless (A Carolina Coastal Novel Book 1) Page 6
