Four Meaningful Words

by A. M. Guilliams

  I put the car in park and checked my phone. No more messages had arrived from her.

  Grabbing the bag, I shut off the engine and got out of the car. I locked the door behind me and went inside the house. There was still a faint smell of garlic and tomatoes in the air from last night, causing a sickening pain to form in my chest. A dinner that was never touched was now in the fridge and would likely never get eaten. I couldn’t bear to ever touch another plate of spaghetti and meatballs again because it would make me think of our last night together. The night I tore us apart.

  I went and showered quickly and wrapped a towel around my waist when I was through. I needed to go over the notes for tomorrow, but my heart wasn’t in it. I knew the case front to back anyway. Instead, I went upstairs and laid down in our bed. A bed that still smelled of lilacs and vanilla mixed with a hint of sex from last night. Clutching her pillow to my chest, I rolled onto my side and let my emotions take over. For the first time in a very long time, I let myself cry over the loss of the woman I couldn’t live without.

  Chapter 6

  Elizabeth

  I’d slept for sixteen hours straight. My body ached from not moving, and my bladder felt like it would combust with how full it was.

  I stretched as I rolled over and got off the bed. After relieving myself in the bathroom, I walked back to the bedroom and decided I had to adult today. But first I needed coffee and sustenance.

  The resort graciously provided a room service menu on the bedside table. Picking it up, I looked through the breakfast items and decided on getting the pancake breakfast with bacon and scrambled eggs and an extra-large cup of coffee. I called my order in and decided to take a shower.

  Thirty minutes later, I exited the bathroom feeling pampered and refreshed. I used the fluffy robe that lay on the counter to cover myself and had a towel on top of my head to get the excess water out.

  Walking over to the bed, I sat and powered on my phone. There was no telling what I’d find once I opened it. I’d never just shut it off without some type of warning.

  As suspected, there were tons of dings that sounded once it came to life. There were texts from my personal assistant, tons of notifications from social media, and over one hundred emails that needed attention.

  The texts from my personal assistant seemed urgent as there were twenty-five of them. She never sent texts to my phone number since we usually contacted each other through the messenger app. I’d decided that those needed my attention first.

  Holy shit. Call me back, woman. This is important.

  Girl… I need you to call me so we can celebrate your brilliance.

  HELLO!!!! Liz, you need to call me.

  There were more messages of the same. What could’ve been so urgent that she sent so many damn texts?

  Pushing the call icon, the phone rang once before she answered. She must’ve been waiting by the phone for my call.

  “About damn time, woman. I’ve been trying to call you,” she screamed into the phone.

  “I can tell,” I chuckled on the other end.

  “You haven’t seen your notifications I take it?”

  “No. I checked my texts first. Figured those could wait.”

  “Yay. I’m so glad I get to be the one to tell you then.”

  “Tell me what?”

  “You did it. You finally met the goal you’ve waited five years for. USA Today, baby.”

  Wait, what? What did I miss? There’s no way. I never suspected my latest release, Give Me More, would do that well.

  “What?”

  “Look at the picture I just sent you,” she commanded, giddy from excitement.

  I did as she said when the notification came through that her message had arrived.

  There the proof sat.

  #101 Give Me More officially made me a USA Today Bestselling Author.

  Wow.

  There were no words.

  After yesterday, I didn’t think anything would make me happy for a while.

  That sure did, though.

  “Liz, you there?”

  “I’m processing. I think I’m in shock, Cass,” I admitted.

  “Girl, you deserve it. That story, just wow. It’s been a long time coming. You and Austin should totally be celebrating right now.”

  Austin.

  He’d love to hear this news.

  I just didn’t know if I should contact him after the words he spoke two days ago.

  “Thank you for being the one to tell me and for all of your hard work. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

  “You could’ve. I’m so happy for you and happy to be part of your team.”

  Cassandra and I met on a Goodreads group and became fast friends five years ago. She’s been with me since the beginning, and I’m extremely grateful for her advice and friendship.

  “You seem down, Liz. I expected you to be jumping for joy. Is everything okay?”

  No, it wasn’t okay.

  It’d take a while for anything to ever be okay again.

  “Austin and I aren’t doing well.”

  That was an understatement.

  “I’m so sorry. Y’all will work it out. You’re the perfect couple. I want a relationship like y’all’s someday.”

  If she only knew. She’d been there for me through the last failed adoption. I’d cried to her, vented to her, and she took it all in stride. The one thing I hadn’t done was voice any of my frustrations to the one person I should’ve.

  “I don’t think so. Not this time, Cass.”

  “Why not? You sound defeated right now.”

  Because I was defeated. I didn’t feel there was any hope left.

  “He wants a divorce,” I whispered. Hearing those words aloud sent shivers through my body. I loved that man something fierce, and admitting that he wanted out made me feel like even more of a failure than ever.

  “No. Not possible,” she gasped.

  “Yeah, it is. He told me two days ago. Which is why my phone was shut off yesterday. I needed to escape reality.”

  “You sound like you’re giving up.”

  “I am. What else am I supposed to do other than give him what he wants? I haven’t been the best wife.”

  “You fight. Y’all are soul mates. You can’t just give up. Did he say why he wanted a divorce?”

  No, because I hadn’t let him. I didn’t want to hear the ways I’d failed him. I already knew the answer.

  “We didn’t talk much after that.”

  “There’s your problem. Go talk to your man. And don’t give up on him. If I know anything about Austin, he’s probably thinking this is the only way to make you happy again.”

  She was probably right. But could I get him back? Would he even want to entertain the possibility of staying with me after everything I’d put him through the past two years? It was kind of ironic that the very day I woke up feeling hopeful was the very day he’d decided that we needed to get a divorce.

  “I don’t know, Cass. He looked like he wanted out.”

  “Fight for him, Liz. Trust me on this.”

  I didn’t want to divorce Austin. Quite the opposite. I just didn’t see a reason until she laid it out in front of me to want to stay if he wanted out.

  A knock sounded on the door, and I got up to answer it. Needing the fuel and the coffee if I was going to plan to get the man that I loved back.

  The kind gentleman brought in my food and coffee, setting it on the table. I tipped him and smiled at him as he went to leave.

  “My food just arrived. I’m going to let you go so I can eat and plan.”

  “There’s my girl. And don’t forget to celebrate. You deserve this and your husband. Never forget that.”

  I bid her goodbye. I loved how she put everything into perspective. She was so much more than my employee, and she deserved a raise if this worked.

  As I ate the fluffiest eggs and perfect pancakes, I devised a plan to win back my husband.

  Chapter 7

&nb
sp; Austin

  I couldn’t take it.

  Four days had passed in a blur.

  Four days of not knowing where she was.

  Four days of not knowing if she was okay.

  Four days of wondering how I was going to handle a life without her in it.

  Thank God today was a Federal holiday and I didn’t have to go into the office, or I’d likely have lost my mind with having to focus on something other than my wife and her absence in my life.

  Had I made a mistake? Could I go through with this plan to let her go?

  I should’ve known the answers to those questions, but I didn’t. I’d thought about what was best for the both of us long and hard in the past few months, and the answer always went back to letting her go. Only now that I had, I knew I’d made a terrible mistake. We needed to communicate. We needed to sit down and make time for our marriage. That much I knew. But how did I go from one extreme to the other and tell her that I shouldn’t have said those four fucking words? Part of me wished I could go back in time and never utter the sound of them. The other part of me wished I was man enough to stand true to my word. We were both miserable in our own way, and we’d made such a mess of things over the past two years, but a life without Elizabeth in it wasn’t a life for me. I knew that now, and it had taken me four days without her to know that I was an idiot for ever letting her go.

  How did I get her to come back to me when I was sure I’d broken her heart?

  How did I let her know I’d regretted what I’d said?

  She was stubborn to a fault. I’d have to go at getting her back with extreme caution if I wanted her to come back at all.

  The sound of the door opening caught my attention.

  Today was Monday. Loretta came on Mondays to clean the house. We’d hired her four years ago when Elizabeth had decided to stop teaching full-time and to explore her passion for writing. She was so good at expressing the written word, and her passion exuded onto the pages as she brought her characters to life.

  “Good morning, Mr. Black,” she announced after she grabbed her cleaning supplies from the closet. She’d been a godsend to easing Liz’s anxiety about not having the time to do the mundane tasks of dusting and mopping the house. She especially loved that she didn’t have to go into the nursery to clean the room since we’d hired Loretta on as our housekeeper. Each time she’d gone into the room, she came out drained of energy, and her mood worsened for days before the mask came back up, and she appeared like her emotions hadn’t taken a toll from the task.

  Loretta was an older lady, in her mid-sixties that our local grocery store owner had told us about who needed something to do after her husband had passed away. Since I loved the idea of helping someone from our small town, I’d taken her advice and called Loretta. She jumped at the idea and had been with us ever since.

  I went out to greet her, hoping to not scare her with my sour mood that I was sure she could sense from a mile away.

  “Good morning, Loretta. I’ll try to stay out of your hair today,” I attempted to joke so she couldn’t see the anguish I was in over losing Elizabeth.

  “You could never be in my hair. Where’s Mrs. Black this morning? I didn’t see her car outside like I normally do,” she asked.

  “She’s on a trip at the moment,” I lied. I hated that I couldn’t answer the question. Truth was, I didn’t know where she was. I’d checked the cards for activity and found none. She wanted to remain hidden and had succeeded in eluding me to her whereabouts.

  “I hope she’s having fun.”

  “Me too,” I replied, trying not to grit my teeth too hard.

  “I’ll get out of your way and begin my cleaning upstairs,” she said as she walked away with all the cleaning supplies in hand.

  I went downstairs into our den and turned on the television. Not to watch anything that was on, just to have some background noise as I thought of the ways I could win my wife back and get her to be the wife I fell in love with and vowed to spend my life with.

  Loretta appeared a couple of hours later to find me staring off into space.

  “Sir, I found this while I was cleaning the nursery. I think it was for you to find. I didn’t open it or anything,” she confessed.

  She handed me the folded piece of paper and left the room.

  On the outside was written To the children I’d never had in Liz’s handwriting.

  When had she written this? How long had it been in there before Loretta found the letter? I was sure she’d have found it last week while she cleaned, so it had to be before she left four mornings ago.

  With trembling hands, I unfolded the piece of paper and read what Liz had written.

  I loved each and every one of you. All six of you hold a special piece of my heart. I’m just sorry I couldn’t have you in my life. I was told time and time again that these things happen. There were no rhyme or reason to each loss, but my heart still holds all of you within its walls. I’ll never be able to forget the feelings I felt when I was told I would have you in my life. That you’d make me the mommy I always wanted to be. Unfortunately, you had to leave, and that’s okay too. The four of you that I carried in my belly brought me so much joy for the time I carried you. You were loved and still are. You were wanted, and the thought of losing you tore me apart. The two of you who were born to different mommies, I wanted you more than life itself. Unfortunately, your mommy felt the same way and wanted to love you more than I deserved to have you. You’ll always have a place in my heart, and I hope your life brings you so much happiness and joy. To the child I want but could never have, I love you. You would’ve had so much love. You’d have had the most amazing mommy and daddy any child on this earth has ever known. I wish things could’ve been different, but God needed you in his life more. I understand that now. Until we meet again.

  Love,

  Mommy

  Wow. I had no words to express as the tears poured down my face. My poor wife. I never knew how much she suffered in silence. I never knew how much anguish she still carried over the losses we’d endured. And I should’ve known. I should’ve seen the pain she was in and helped her more than I had, but she wouldn’t let me in. She wouldn’t tell me her thoughts or feelings, and the more I tried, the more she shut them inside.

  After reading the words I knew pained her to write, I realized I should’ve been a better husband. I should’ve pushed harder. I should’ve made her see that our life was blessed with or without children. I should’ve done something other than leaving her to mourn and suffer alone. God, I was such a bastard.

  Folding the piece of stationary, I set it on the couch and let the tears fall. If she never wanted me back, it was the least of what I deserved. Especially after the way I’d allowed her to suffer on her own and not be the man she needed me to be.

  Chapter 8

  Elizabeth

  Three days had gone by since I packed my bag and left. In those seventy-two hours, I’d only answered a few emails and thought about Austin.

  I wanted to pick up the phone and call him.

  In fact, I’d pulled up his name in my contacts, and my finger hovered over the button that would connect me to him, only I stopped every time.

  I couldn’t reach out to him just yet.

  The conversation I planned to have with him needed to be done in person.

  Plus, I needed to put a plan into place on what I’d say to persuade him to work on our marriage instead of end it.

  I needed to work on getting myself better so I could make us better.

  Cassandra had taken it upon herself to look up psychiatrists just outside of our hometown. She’d also taken the liberty of making sure I was eating right and working toward getting Austin back. She didn’t want to see us end any more than I did.

  Friday after mine and Cassandra’s talk, she’d texted me the phone number of doctors she’d thought I’d find suitable enough to talk to. I’d combed over all five of them until I came across one that just from a photo and a
brief bio I’d felt I could connect with. That day I’d called and set up an appointment. It was set for the following Friday. I couldn’t believe I’d gotten in so soon, but due to a cancellation, she’d had an opening. For that, I started to believe in fate of a different nature. A fate that was on my side for once.

  Today I made a list of all the things I wanted to work on for myself and my marriage. I made a list of what I believed were the things I loved about myself. The top five were my ambition, my compassion, my heart, my love for others, and my smile.

  I also made a list of things I wanted to work on to help myself get better. Communication was at the top of the list. I needed to learn how to talk about my feelings instead of harboring them inside and shutting others out. Especially Austin.

  The last list I made was the topics I wanted to discuss with Austin. What we needed to talk about but hadn’t discussed. My grief was one of them. He didn’t know how deep-rooted that grief had become. I needed to make him understand just how much it consumed me. Our losses were another. Since the miscarriages, we hadn’t really talked. We dove right into when we could try again and didn’t focus on healing above all else. I also wanted to talk to him about how I felt about not being able to give him a child. I needed to know he wouldn’t resent me someday because we wouldn’t have children. As much as I wanted to, I didn’t know if I could handle another miscarriage or another adoption attempt. I needed to make sure he understood what that meant for us. I couldn’t handle opening myself up to him, only to have us fail in the end anyway.

  Once I was done with making those lists, I took the next day to pamper myself. I went to the spa for a massage, a facial, a haircut, and got a mani and pedi. By the time all was finished, I felt like a new woman who could conquer the world.

  I’d conquer anything thrown at me.

  Starting with getting my husband to agree to try right alongside me.