He doesn’t say anything, but I can tell he’s hurt. How could he not be? Will he even want to hear the rest? I’m not sure, but I refuse to hide any more truth.
I stare at my fingers, pulling that stupid loose thread as I speak. “But when I woke up in that hotel room, covered in blood, I thought I was dying, and it sunk in. All the damage I’ve done to myself, to us. I’ve done everything I can to push you away, but in my final hours, you were the only one I wanted to talk to. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for everything. You have every right to hate me. Trust me, I hate myself. I don’t expect you to ever forgive me, but I need you to know how sorry I am.”
“Ari, I could never hate you. Trust me, I tried for years, and it didn’t work.” He lets out a little laugh. “And I tried really freaking hard.” He brushes the hair away from my tear-soaked cheeks. “I love you. No matter what has happened in the past, no matter what happens in the future, I love you. That will never change. We will get through this together.”
“You say that now, but there’s so much left for me to tell you.”
There’s a knock on the door before I can continue.
I wipe the tears from my eyes and try to pull myself together. “Yes?”
A short man with curly, frizzy hair enters. “Hi, I’m Dr. Schwartz. The nurses said they thought you were up, so I thought I would pop in.”
When they were prepping me for surgery, I begged for someone who spoke English, and all they sent me was a horrible translator. Where the hell was this guy? “You’re an American?”
He smiles. “Canadian. But close enough, right?”
“I would have even settled for French. At least I can carry on a conversation in French.”
“I’m from Vancouver, and my French is probably as bad as your Swedish, so let’s just stick with English.” The doctor crosses the room and offers me a double-handed shake. “It’s nice to meet you, Arianna.”
I point at Chase. “This is my friend Chase.” I can’t help but notice Chase winces at the word friend. His flash of disappointment sends pangs to my heart. I’ve hurt him so much, and there’s still so much more to come.
The doctor and Chase shake hands. “I’d heard there was someone keeping vigil. It’s good you have some support while you’re here.” Dr. Schwartz puts his hand under the hand sanitizer dispenser then rubs in the foam. “Dr. Bergqvist has been following you since you arrived, but she asked me to come in and speak with you rather than have her come in with a translator. With the sensitivity of your situation and your public status, the hospital staff thought you may be more comfortable working with a doctor you could speak with directly.”
I believe I screamed at the woman and said if they ever sent her in to speak to me again, I’d sue them for all their worth. It appears she translated that properly. “I appreciate that,” I reply.
Dr. Schwartz looks back and forth between Chase and me. “Before we begin, would you like to discuss things privately?”
Chase looks at me. I can tell he doesn’t know what role to play: the passive friend or the protective boyfriend. I wish I knew what to tell him, but I’m a little busy trying to get out of my role as the crazy, coked-up nutjob. I can’t worry about him right now too. If he stays, he’s probably going to hear a number of things that will upset him, but then the words won’t have to come from me. That makes me a coward, but I’m not really surprised. Being a coward is what’s gotten me into this mess.
“He can stay,” I respond.
“Okay,” the doctor says as he opens my chart. “We got some lab work back. Your results look better than when you arrived but still not great. We’d like to keep you for a few more days just to make sure things keep moving in the right direction. We’re also going to run some more cardio tests just to be on the safe side.” He flips through a few pages in the chart.
“Why have you been keeping me sedated?”
He closes the chart and sets it next to him. “Based on the level of narcotics found in your blood when you arrived, Dr. Bergqvist thought it best to keep you sedated until the drugs had worked their way through your system. The labs indicate she probably could have pulled back yesterday, but she was erring on the side of caution.” He opens the chart again and flips through a few pages. “Her notes mention you had a hard time accepting the news and made a few comments that had her worried about suicidal thoughts.”
Fucking doctors! I can’t believe that’s in my chart! “I was shocked because I had no idea I was pregnant and some translator just blurted out that my reckless behavior had killed my baby. I was distraught, not suicidal.”
Chase gasps. I wish he didn’t have to find out this way, but in some ways, this is easier. Like ripping off a Band-Aid. Now he knows. The only question is, how much will he hate me? I’d like to think it can’t possibly be as much as I hate myself, but when it comes to Chase and me, there are no limits to how much we can love or how deep our hate can run. I look at him, trying to get a read on his reaction, but besides the little gasp, he’s not showing any response at all. He’s perfectly even. Either he’s that heartless or he’s putting on a good show. With him, it could go either way.
“I’m very sorry that happened,” Dr. Schwartz says, interrupting my thoughts. “Translators aren’t medical professionals, and sometimes they lack proper decorum. Not that that makes it right. I’ll be sure to have Dr. Bergqvist address the matter so that it never happens again.”
“I’m not going to kill myself, but I would like for you to stop the sedation, please,” I say. “I would like to work toward keeping a clear head, and I can’t do that if someone comes in and drugs me every time I wake up.”
He scribbles something on the chart. “That’s not a problem and a very good sign. I’m happy to hear you say that. Do you have any questions for me before I check to see how things are healing?”
I’d rather not discuss my loss in front of Chase, but the cat’s already out of the bag, and who knows when I’ll see another English-speaking doctor. Plus, Chase has a right to hear this for himself. “Do you have any idea what caused the miscarriage?”
Dr. Schwartz sighs. “Arianna, the truth is we have no idea what happened. Miscarriages happen all the time, most often for causes that are completely beyond your control no matter what your prenatal care was like. But the good news is that even though this was traumatic, we haven’t seen anything to indicate you wouldn’t be able to carry a baby to term in the future.”
Typical doctor. Tap-dancing around the issue. “Okay, let me rephrase. Did I cause the miscarriage?”
Dr. Schwartz pushes his lips together and looks at me with so much pity I want to puke. “I know there are a number of issues that would cause you to be concerned, but I don’t think they were the cause of your miscarriage. Yes, your fall was nasty. I’ve slipped down those steps myself and was banged up for two weeks, but—”
“You fell?” Chase interrupts. “When did that happen?”
I look up and see the concern in his eyes. “Yesterday. Or… the day before I got here. I fell down a huge set of stairs at the train station.” I gesture to the bruises all over my face and arms. “That’s what these are from.”
“At fourteen weeks, your body should have been able protect the fetus, even from a fall like that,” Dr. Schwartz continues. “Cocaine use can cause miscarriages, but we typically see those issues much later in the pregnancy. There are a million reasons that have nothing to do with anything you did that could have caused a miscarriage this early in the pregnancy. Don’t try to shoulder the blame. It’s a tragedy, but these things happen.”
Unable to look at Chase, I focus on the pattern on my hospital blanket. “Easier said than done, doc.”
Dr. Schwartz’s pager goes off. He glances at it then says. “Darn, I’m needed downstairs for an emergency.” He grabs a pair of gloves from the dispenser. “Let me just examine you quickly, then I’ll be back in a few hours to answer any other questions you may have. Okay?”
Chase stands. “I’
ll go get a drink or something. Let you have some privacy.”
I can’t say I blame him—I’d want to run for the hills too. He kisses the top of my head then rushes out the door. I wonder if he’s going for that drink in the hospital cafeteria or if he’s going to get it on the first flight out of here.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chase
Fourteen weeks? She was fourteen weeks pregnant. That means the baby was mine. From the moment I heard those words, the room had started to spin. I did my best to keep it together because I don’t want her to see what this is doing to me, but the more I heard, the harder it was to keep up the façade. I took my chance to bolt the second I saw the opportunity.
So many thoughts are floating around my head I can’t think straight. I wish I could talk to Charlie, but I can’t. Anything baby-related makes her fall apart. Knowing Ari and I lost a baby will crush her. I’ll need to be strong for her, and I just don’t have it in me right now. Jogging down the hall, I search for the nearest place to get a moment to myself. Once I find a bathroom, I lock the door behind me and lean against the sink while I catch my breath.
As soon as I realized she might have been pregnant, I’ve been thinking about this news. Two days with nothing to do but watch her sleep gave me plenty of time to process. I thought I was prepared, that when I found out either way, I’d be fine. But as I’m learning, wondering about it and knowing it for a fact are two totally different things. I hadn’t expected it would hurt this much.
The baby was ours.
Visions of bedtime stories and dance recitals flash though my mind like some twisted version of This Could Have Been Your Life. Images of a little girl with blond ringlets, running across the front yard, flash through my mind. I can almost hear her giggle as she chases a butterfly. A month ago, I’d have sworn she was in my grasp, and I wanted her. I wanted her so badly I could feel that little girl’s hand in mine. While I haven’t given up hope that it’ll happen one day, I know we’re as far away from that life as we’ve ever been. Unable to fight them back any longer, my tears fall.
If I had just gone with her to see David, maybe I could have contained the fallout of his news. If I had just kept my damn mouth shut about Aiden’s “wrap it up” lecture, she never would have made me the enemy and we’d be at the hospital looking at ultrasounds instead of talking about sedatives. If Aiden had fucking told her himself, like I asked, none of this would be happening.
I know the doctor said she didn’t lose the baby because of anything she did, but I can’t help but feel if she had been home, we would have known she was pregnant. She would have been under the best care. I would have doted on her every need and desire. Maybe we could have prevented this loss.
If I’d tried harder to find her sooner, I could have gotten to her before Sven did and saved her so much pain. I want to slaughter Sven then bring him back from the dead so I can kill him again. It’s not his fault any more than it is mine, but like Ari said, every story needs a villain.
So many what ifs and could have beens are floating through my head I can’t take it! After all the years of fighting each other and fighting our feelings, I was sure this was our time. This was our chance at happiness and now… Fuck! Without thinking, I punch the wall, shattering the tile.
Someone knocks on the door. Dammit! “Just a minute,” I shout.
Running my hand under cold water, I make sure I don’t have any pieces of tile in the broken skin. Then I wash my face, hoping to calm myself down. I can’t go back to Ari’s room looking like this. She’s carrying enough guilt over this, and I don’t need to add my heartache to it.
The guy on the other side knocks again, more impatiently this time. Looking in the mirror, I see my eyes are less red. This is probably as good as I’m going to get, so I turn off the water, dry my face and hands, and return to Ari’s room.
After knocking on her door, I peek my head in, hoping the doctor’s done. I really don’t want to see another guy’s head in her crotch. Doctor or not. Thankfully, he’s gone.
She looks at me with wide eyes and a smile. “You came back.”
“Did you really think I’d leave you?” I ask as I cross the room.
Looking down, she says somberly, “I’d leave me. I don’t deserve you. Not after what I’ve done.”
“Stop. If roles were reversed, you’d be here doing the exact same thing. I know you would.”
She fidgets with the corner of her blanket. “I’m sorry you had to find out that way. I was about to tell you when the doctor came, and I just…”
I take my place on the edge of her bed. “I already had an idea. You’d mentioned something about a baby when you woke up. That’s what I figured you meant.”
“I’m so sorry that I did this to our baby. To us.” She wipes a tear from her cheek with the back of her hand. “When Charlie told me Jenna was pregnant, you know, the first fake pregnancy, all I could think was that was supposed to be me. We were supposed to have a football team of kids together, and it broke my heart that it was Jenna. When I came back from Africa, I was ready. I wanted a baby so badly I could feel it growing inside me. Apparently because it was, but I was just too stupid to realize it. And I killed it.” She looks at me with huge tear-filled eyes. “I killed our baby. How can you forgive me for that? How can you stand to look at me?”
“Because I love you. You heard the doctor. This wasn’t your fault.”
“Bullshit! I got high on some pills—I didn’t even know what they were—and fell down a flight of stairs. I wasn’t eating. I wasn’t sleeping. I was putting poison in my body. If there’s a ‘not to do while you’re pregnant’ list, I did it all. There’s no way I didn’t cause this.”
“Yes, all of those things are true, and the doctors still don’t think it’s your fault. For whatever reason, this wasn’t our time. But it will be. The doctor said you can have more children. When we’re ready, we’ll try again. And if we can’t, we’ll adopt.” For the first time, I see hope in her eyes.
“We?”
She still doesn’t get it. “Yeah, we.”
“But I left you, I—”
Not wanting to hear another rundown of the last month, I hold my hand up to stop her. “I’m not upset about the drugs, and I don’t blame you for the baby. I know that this past month wasn’t about us, no matter how much you tried to convince yourself it was. All of the stuff about your dad rattled you, and you didn’t know how to handle it, so you ran. Everything else I’ve forgiven you for, but the running hurt.” I thread my fingers through hers. “We’re supposed to be a team, and we can’t do that if you run and hide every time things get tough. The road ahead of us won’t be easy. We both have a lot to work through, but I’m not giving up on you, and I’m not giving up on us. We’re strong enough to get through this.”
“I can’t believe you’re not sprinting out of here.”
I kiss her forehead. “The leaving part of our relationship is over. From this day forward, there is only staying.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Arianna
Chase stayed with me through the rest of the night. We ate horrible hospital food and played cards before exhaustion took over and I fell asleep. When I wake up, he’s sleeping, hunched in that damn plastic chair. His back is going to hurt something awful after doing that for days on end.
I can’t believe he’s still here. I honestly thought after all our years of fighting, all the spite and venom thrown back and forth between us, that he would have walked out and found some way to punish me. But he’s still here and fighting for me, for us. I never would have guessed that between the two of us, he’d be the stable one. But maybe I’ve never given him enough credit. He’s thinking of the future, and that gives me hope, but at the same time, it scares me to death. I can’t think past the next minute. Looking further than an hour into my future make my heart thump so hard I’m afraid it’ll break my ribs.
He said all the right things last night. He was far kinder and more supportiv
e than I deserve. His unwavering confidence in me and in us boggles my mind. I know he can be everything I need him to be. He’s proven he’ll go above and beyond. But he isn’t the problem. I am. What if I’m not strong enough? He’s so confident in us, but I have no confidence in me. I’m barely keeping it together. I don’t know if I can be who he wants me to be. The more I think about it, the harder it becomes to breathe. My heart monitor beeps faster and faster.
Chase falls out of his chair and looks up at me, his hair going in every direction. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
Gasping, I clutch the sheets as if they’re the only things keeping me grounded. “I can’t be what you expect me to be!”
He pulls my head to his chest then strokes my hair. “Shhh, slow down. Take deep, slow breaths.”
He models his instruction, and I focus on trying to make my breaths match his. The sound of his heartbeat soothes me, calming the raging storm of panic in my mind.
After a few minutes, he says, “I don’t expect you to be anything. You don’t have to be perfect. You don’t have to always do or say the right thing. You just have to be you. That’s all I want. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
“You keep talking about our future together, and I want that. I really do, but I’m a mess. It took me thirty days to destroy my life, and I have no idea how long it’s going to take me to put myself back together again. I can’t promise you tomorrow when I don’t know how I’m going to get through today.”
“I’m sorry if I stressed you out. That’s the last thing in the world I wanted to do.” He pulls away and looks me in the eye. “I’m in this for the long haul. I’ll be by your side every step of the way, and I’m going into this with my eyes wide open. You’re stuck in the deepest depths of your own personal hell right now, but we’ll crawl through the fire together to get you out. It’ll be slow and painful. We’ll move backward and forward and backward again. I’m ready for all of that.”
Love To Hate You Page 31
