by S. P. West
In the end it Alex who is the first to look away, the look on his face a combination of some twisted torment and overriding guilt. My normally cocksure, slightly arrogant husband, ex-husband, shifts from foot to foot clearly uncomfortable under my glacial glare. He looks lost, as though he’s unsure how to handle the woman in front of him. I suspect he was expecting me to be sobbing on my knees, begging him to come home; that would give him some sense that he’s in charge of the situation. This though? This he cannot handle. As much as my pain, anger and devastation whirls and rages under the surface I will not allow him to see that he has got to me. I am in control here not him.
Finally, he cracks as the frigid air gets too much for him.
“I can come back another day?” Alex asks hesitantly, his voice noticeably softer than before, sounding more and more like my Alex. I can feel myself wavering. In truth, despite what I might say to the contrary, if he were to turn round and beg for my forgiveness; that he made a mistake, I would take him back.
Stupid? Certainly. I know that buried somewhere inside this man who has treated me so horribly in the last few months, is the man who has been my life for the past five years. Alex has been my best friend, my lover. He has held me as I’ve cried, wiped my tears. He has supported me, loved me.
Does his recent behavior cancel all that out?
Somewhere to the side of me I hear Vi give an unladylike snort of derision at his request.
It jolts me to my senses. I know in my heart of hearts that Alex won’t be changing anytime soon, if ever.
“You have five minutes to pack whatever you need and then you will leave. I’ll pack the rest of your stuff and give it to your mum.” I pause, trying to breathe through the pain as yet another cramp hits. Miraculously keeping my voice steady I continue, “What you have done has broken my heart and I don’t think it will ever heal. I loved you Alex, from the moment I met you, I loved you but you didn’t ever love me back did you?” Violet takes my hand in hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze as I find the courage to continue. “I know there’s no way you could have ever loved me, because if you love someone you don’t throw their love for you back in their face, you don’t lie to them, you’re not cruel to them and you don’t cheat on them. You’ve done all of that to me and I didn’t deserve any of it, Alex. Not a single bit.”
Alex has the decency to look embarrassed, turning his head to look at Becks as though to get some support from his friend. I quickly glance at Becks, his face like stone belying no emotion, yet his eyes betray the disgust that he currently feels for his friend.
“I won’t beg you to stay. I’m not going to give you the satisfaction nor will I ask you to pick me. You’ve made your choice. For your sake I hope it’s the right one.”
“I do… I did love you.” Alex almost whispers ignoring everything else I’d said.
Did. I did love you.
“You just don’t now? Please don’t insult me.” I bite back. “Just pack your stuff and go back to your whore. I don’t want to talk to you anymore. Maybe in a few weeks I’ll change my mind and we can discuss this all rationally, until then stay the hell away from me. Just make sure that you leave your key on the bedside table on your way out.”
I push past him, heading to the living room. “Oh, and Alex?” He raises his head to look at me, “I hope she’s worth it.”
It takes me an almost herculean effort not to howl in anguish as I collapse on the couch. I count to sixty in my head, repeating it in a pathetic attempt to take my mind off of the fact that my husband has gone from my life for good. The adrenaline rush that our confrontation gave me dissipates leaving me a shaking, wretched mess.
“Here, I brought you a drink.” My hands tremble as I take the cup from Violet.
“Has, has he gone?”
“Becks is escorting him out now,” she says gently stroking my head. Suddenly stopping to grab my chin. Violet turns my head from side to side, scowling as she does so. “Jesus Sum, you’re white as a ghost are you ok?”
I try to nod my head yes but as I do, a wave of dizziness hits me the same time as a pain worse than anything I’ve felt before. The intensity of it forces me violently forward clutching my stomach. My vision fades in and out and I can hear screaming. It takes me a moment to realize that the voice I hear is my own.
“Oh fuck… Summer!”
“What’s going on?” Becks’ panicked voice comes from the doorway. “What’s happening to her?”
“Dial 999!”
“What the hell is 999?”
“An ambulance you moron, call a fucking ambulance! No, no, no, no. Oh shit, shit, shit.”
As Violets voice fades, I instinctively know that my beautiful unborn child has gone.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you…I love you,” I breathe as the darkness sends me into sweet oblivion.
The persistent beeping in my ears rouses me from what has to be the worst nightmare that I’ve ever had. I’d dreamt that I’d found out that I was pregnant but before I could tell Alex, he’d left me for another woman and then I’d lost the baby.
“I think she’s coming around. Mrs. Thorson? Summer? Can you hear me?”
It was one of those dreams that are so horrific that you wake up thinking it’s real.
“Mrs. Thorson, I really need you to open your eyes honey.”
I’ll be glad when I wake up snuggled into my expensive Egyptian cotton bed linen with my handsome husband lightly snoring away beside me. Then I can start trying to forget about the horrors I saw in my sleep. I should tell Alex about it; knowing him he’ll laugh his head off and tell me to stop being so silly.
“Blood pressure is fine.”
God, I feel like I’ve been hit by a bus. Everything aches, I can’t seem to find the energy to move or even open my eyes. Did I drink too much last night? I don’t remember going out at all. In the background, I can hear snippets of conversation. It sounds like an episode of Grey’s Anatomy; I must have left the T.V. on last night.
“Are her relatives here?”
“We informed her husband. He’s on his way apparently.”
“Is anyone at all here with her?”
“Her friend is in the waiting room. She said that she’d let Mrs. Thorson’s family know that she’s been admitted to hospital.”
Why did they just say my name? It must be a character in the show.
“Okay, we’ll keep an eye on her. Let me know as soon as she wakes up.”
“Certainly Dr. Baker.”
A door shuts softly and I’m left with the constant beeping of before. I feel so drained and tired that just trying to open my eyes is an effort. Needs must though, I can’t lie around in bed all day nursing a hangover. I’ll get up, take a couple of Tylenol, make us some breakfast then sit on the couch feeling sorry for myself.
As I try to open my eyes, I get the first hint that maybe I wasn’t dreaming after all.
It’s the brightness of the light that hits me first, combined with the unfamiliar, antiseptic smell. I can’t quite focus on where I am. I know that I’m not in our bedroom.
As I move my hand, I feel a painful tugging sensation and takes me a second to figure that I’ve got tubes sticking out of me. I try to sit up but a sharp pain forces me back. The room around me becomes steadily clearer; Alex is nowhere in sight, instead there is an empty chair and what looks to be a heart rate monitor. Like the ones that I’ve seen in countless T.V. medical dramas.
Sudden comprehension about the truth of my situation hits me like a freight train and I start to sob.
A few hours later, I’m sat up in the uncomfortable hospital bed, staring blankly out of the window. The world keeps turning, yet I feel like an outside observer not wanting to get back on the carousel of human existence. One night long ago, just after we had made love; Instead of saying something romantic, Alex asked me the most stupid question.
“If you could have any superpower, what would it be?”
At the time I’d found it hilario
usly funny. Alex, however, didn’t find my laughter at his profound question amusing, so had preceded to start tickling me as a form of revenge. The laughter that followed turned into kisses, which turned into touches, which ultimately turned into the most amazing lovemaking that we had ever had. I never did answer his question. If I had, I would’ve said that I wanted the ability to move through time. If I could only just go back now…
Violet left around ten minutes ago. She’d been awake the whole night, waiting for any news of the baby and me. I’d asked her to sit with me while the surgeon had explained what had happened. We’d cried in each other’s arms as we listened to what he had to say. It wasn’t good. She’d wanted to stay with me a while longer but I sent her home, knowing that she was utterly exhausted.
Gingerly, I touch my stomach where my baby once lay. My vision blurs with the sting of tears at the loss of someone I was never destined to meet. Dr. Baker said that I might have a tiny scar, where they performed keyhole surgery. Other than that I would make a full recovery. He wasn’t being unkind, I appreciated his honesty. It turns out that the baby I carried didn’t have a chance.
An Ectopic pregnancy he said.
It was so serious that my fallopian tube had started to rupture. If it had been left any longer, there was the chance that I could have died. Wouldn’t that just be convenient for my bastard of a husband, not having to shell out for a divorce?
According to Dr. Baker, it’ll take me at least six weeks to recover from the surgery and though I only have one working fallopian tube left, there is no reason that I shouldn’t go on to have any children in the future.
Like that will ever happen.
I’ve lost my baby and the love of my life has turned out to be someone different from who I thought he was. It turns out I married a lying, deceitful, poor excuse for a human being. The woman who I once was has disappeared, replaced by a someone who looks, talks and acts the same yet is completely dead on the inside.
They’ve told me that I have to stay in here for a few more days to give my body the chance to recover but after that, I’m home free. Violet suggested that I start looking for, in her words, ‘a shit hot lawyer’ as soon as I get home. She thought I needed to strike while the iron was hot.
I haven’t told her that I’d already started to look into the divorce process after Alex first walked out. I didn’t in any way dream that we would divorce. I wanted to have the knowledge behind me just in case the worst happened. Just goes to show how wrong you can be.
A quick trawl through the internet told me that it’ll take about six months for us to end our sham of a marriage. I found out that if I file here, once I sign the papers then only one of us has to remain in the state. Which means that I can return home to England if I want to and not have to remain here watching as he moves on with his happy new life.
When I first came to America I didn’t expect to stay; after I married, I didn’t expect to leave.
As I wipe away the tears that have begun to fall with the back of my hand; Annie, the large red-headed nurse who’s looking after to me today, pops her head around the door.
“How are ya feeling, my love?” She asks with warm Irish accent as she bustles over to my bed.
“I’ve been better,” I manage to croak out finding myself once again wiping the tears away.
“Oh sweet girl,” she clucks in sympathy, “You’ve been through the wars haven’t yeh?”
I don’t answer her, instead turning my head to look out of the window.
“Well the good news is we’ve finally got a hold of your husband.” My head whips round so fast that the room spins; I have to hold on tight to the covers just to steady myself until I finally manage to focus on her, “he’s a hard man to get hold of.” She carries on, oblivious to my distress.
“Please tell me he’s not coming here,” I plead.
She tilts her head to one side, strands of her curly hair springing free from the sloppy bun that she’d shoved it in to. Her bright smile falters, a confused expression replacing it.
“Did yeh not want him here?”
“No.” I intend for my voice to be strong yet it comes out as a semi sob, “I don’t want to see him.”
“He’s listed as your next of kin?” Annie asks slowly.
“We recently separated.”
“I see.” She replies blowing out a long breath.
I’m suddenly struck by the thought that someone has told him why I was here. I couldn’t bear it if he knew. Oh I know that he has a right to know that he was going to be a father. What good will it do telling him? There’s no baby anymore.
“Please tell me that no one has told him why I’m here?” I beg.
Annie gives me a tight-lipped smile as she walks over to the bed, gently patting my hand in an effort to reassure me, “As far as I know, no information was given out during the phone call. We simply notified him that you were here.” She looks at me sympathetically, “I’ll go now and make sure people aware that you don’t want Mr. Thorson to be told why you are here. Is that okay?”
Just as I open my mouth to thank her, the door opens. I let out a gasp as the familiar, tall figure of the man I once called my husband stands in the doorway. His dirty blonde hair is a mess; his once sparkling brown eyes are red-rimmed. He doesn’t look like he’s washed in week; his clothes are a crumpled, filthy mess. Alex doesn’t move, he just stands there and glares at me, folding his muscular arms across his large chest.
Annie stiffens next me before leaning down to whisper in my ear “Do yeh want me to get rid of him?”
I shake my head, no, as I continue to stare back at Alex.
“Alright, I’ll be just down the hall. Let me know if you need me.” Annie gives me a gentle pat on the shoulder before making a swift exit out of the room. Alex lets Annie past, slamming the door shut after her, effectively trapping me in the room.
We continue to glower at each other for what seems like an eternity; Alex’s hard glare softens briefly before he tips his head towards the chair silently asking if it’s okay for him to sit. A brief nod of my head lets him know it’s fine, then I return my attention once again to the world outside the window.
“I hope you didn’t do anything stupid,” he asks breaking the silence.
No hello, no how are you, just a lame way of asking if I’d tried to commit suicide.
“Don’t flatter yourself.”
“So why are you here then?”
“Why are you here?” I counter turning my head to look at him, “I would’ve thought you’d be with your girlfriend.”
He scrubs his hand across his face, before looking up at me through his long fingers. Up close, he look rough. His eyes are not only red rimmed but blood shot too. His handsome face sports what seems to be two days’ worth of stubble and I wonder what happened to him. “When I got the call to say you’d been admitted…. look I was worried about you.”
“Bollocks!” I scoff; just as I’m about to launch into an angry tirade, the bastard interrupts me.
“I still care about you. Despite what you might think.”
I laugh without any mirth, “Do you seriously think I believe that? After the way you’ve behaved?” My rebuke is bitter. “And you certainly don’t care enough to keep your dick in your pants or not to take her on a week-long vacation. You know? The one that we were supposed to go on; that I’d booked for us.”
He has the decency to look ashamed yet he doesn’t break away his gaze from mine. With some satisfaction I notice that his cheeks color in embarrassment.
“Are you going to tell me why you’re here.” He asks again ignoring everything I’d just said.
“No.”
Because you don’t deserve to know.
“Oh.” Alex looks crestfallen, his dark eyes flash with something akin to regret. I can’t begin understand why on earth Alex would look disappointed not after all that he’s done.
The atmosphere in the room is so thick that you could cut it with a knife. I ha
ve no idea why Alex is here. He made it more than clear that our marriage is over and yet here he is hanging around me like a bad smell. If my judgment weren’t impaired from the effects of the medication they’ve been giving me, I would say that he was feeling guilty.
He can just bugger off, I don’t want him here. I want to be left alone to grieve the loss of my baby, of our marriage. I really don’t think I’ll be able to keep up this cool collected façade for much longer before I burst into tears.
“Look, Alex as lovely as this is,” My words dripping with sarcasm, a massive fake smile plastered on my face. “I’m pretty tired so If you could go that would be really great,” I say gesturing to the door.
“I want us to be friends,” he suddenly blurts out, leaving me to stare at him in open-mouthed disbelief. “I know I’ve hurt you, I just want you to know that you’re still one of my best friends.”
He shifts uncomfortably in the seat, as I continue gape at him.
“You cannot be serious?” I splutter. Who is this man? He never used to be like this, blowing hot and cold. One minute he doesn’t anything to do with me anymore, the next he wants to be friends. It’s almost as though Alex has developed a split personality. “You and I are not friends anymore, Alex, nor will we ever be friends again. Stupidly, it seems, I never thought you could, or would, hurt me the way you have. That’s my own fault for blindly trusting you. So if you are hoping for an amicable split, you can go fuck yourself.”
“Don’t say that.” He starts to get up. “Look, I’ll come back when you’re feeling better.”
“No. No you won’t.”
“I’ll come to see you when you get out of here then.” He says pushing me.
“NO.”
“We’ll need to talk at some point, Sum. I’ll visit you when you are feeling better.” He pleads, and I can feel my eyes fill with tears knowing that he’ll want to talk about divorce.
“Please just leave,” I say as I start to cry.
The chair scrapes across the floor as he moves to get up. I don’t bother to look at him; instead allowing the tears to silently fall down my cheeks.
