Heartbreaker

by J. Dorothy

  This can’t be happening. I can’t deal with this. I was so close to leaving and going home, now there’s no way I can go back. I couldn’t face Cam knowing I was pregnant with another man’s child. And Dad, wow, he would be so disappointed in me. I don’t want to see that look on his face. Then there’s Andy, he’ll probably want to see his son. Or daughter. Shit. I’m really pregnant. I’m really going to have that. A son or a daughter.

  Too much. This is too much.

  I’m a coward. I’ve been back at work for the past few weeks and I can’t bring myself to tell Andy. Every time I see him flirting with Miss Giggly pants I want to throw up. Bennett thinks I’m jealous from the way I keep shooting them death glares.

  I’m going for my scan in less than four weeks, he will have to know by then. Then it will be safe to tell people, or so they say. Anyway not long after that, it’s going to be more than obvious. I already feel fatter and my boobs are definitely bigger. I still haven’t been able to hold down much food, but I’m trying. I’m trying to look after myself and the baby. The baby. I’ve been saying that all week. I can’t bring myself to say my baby or Andy’s baby. Sends a cold shiver down my spine. I can’t believe I’m having a baby with him. That was never in my future albums for sure.

  I’ve given myself a date, next Wednesday at eleven o’clock, I’m telling Andy. I’ve checked his schedule and he’ll be in that morning. He’s been away a fair bit these past few weeks, so it’s been bearable at work. I’ve been keeping my mind busy on study and piling on the work here at the office. I’m so glad Bennett thinks I’ve got issues with Andy cheating on me. He doesn’t suspect there’s anything else and I don’t want him to.

  I’ve read through my little bag of goodies, twice now, and been on all the websites. I never knew there was so much to know. I’m only in my first trimester and I’m panicking about all the things that can happen. I wonder if Andy will want to be a part of it. I’m guessing he will. He’s an asshole but he’s not that much of an asshole. He’s got a bit of class about him. At least I’m hoping he has. I really don’t know that I can raise a child alone.

  I switch off my computer, pick up my purse and look around to see that it’s mostly the executive staff still in their offices. I decide to pick up a pizza on the way home. I’ve been craving salty stuff, and I love the burnt cheese. I wonder for a second if my baby will be a pizza addict. Huh, my baby, first time I’ve thought that way. It’s kind of nice in a weird way. I smile for the first time in a while and make my way to the elevator and down to the foyer. I wave goodbye to Jake and step out into the cold December night. I wrap my coat around me and hurry to the bus stop. Bennett’s been away on a course these past few nights, so I’ve been eating solo. He’s due back tomorrow night. I’ll be glad to see him, I might even tell him. I can’t keep it to myself much longer. I just hope he doesn’t kick Andy’s ass.

  I spend the night, watching Big Bang re-runs and tracing a finger over my stomach. It’s still flat, but feels fuller somehow. I’m mesmerized thinking about the tiny life growing inside me. It really is a miracle. Not a miracle I wanted, but now it might be. A baby of my very own. I know I’ll love it. I kind of already do, although it’s taken me a long while to understand that. Whether Andy wants it or not, it’s half mine and I will always want it. I suddenly realize that I can and will do this on my own.

  The last episode plays, and I get up taking my new thoughts of lovely baby smells and tiny fingers and toes to bed. I lie down and stare at the ceiling for a little bit, trying to imagine what he or she will look like. Andy is okay looking, so my baby will have a reasonable gene pool to draw from. Not that I’d care, either way. I wrap my arms around my stomach, picturing a tiny baby in my arms. A wave of emotion captures me and a warmth settles in my chest. Then I fall into a deep contented sleep.

  I wake. I’m sweating. Or I think I am. I feel wet. I open my eyes to the dark room. I reach across and switch on the lamp beside my bed. The dampness is coming from the lower half of my body.

  Oh no. My baby.

  I suck in a breath and pull down the covers and there’s blood. A lot of blood.

  I scream, "No! No! No!"

  A sob escapes and I’m dry heaving. It hurts. This really hurts. My stomach is clenching with each sob and I’m sweating and crying. This can’t be happening. Not now. Not now I’ve worked it all out.

  I’m sorry. I’m so sorry baby. I did want you.

  This is all my fault.

  I made this happen.

  I should have taken more vitamins, looked after myself better.

  I keep crying. I don’t move. I can’t move.

  No. No. No.

  Please no.

  I can’t have lost my baby.

  I’m up and dressed ready for work. I need to be normal. To have routine. I don’t want to think about anything else. It’s been two days since it happened. I went to the clinic and they checked me over and confirmed the worst. Said I might bleed for a few more days. Looked at me with a fraction of sympathy for about thirty seconds, and then moved on to the next patient. That’s all I deserved. I didn’t deserve the privilege to be a mom. And it is a privilege. A privilege I wish with all my heart I still had. I feel like a part of me has died, and I can’t mourn. I have nothing to mourn. I’m numb. So numb.

  I move robotically about the apartment gathering my things for work. I haven’t cried since the night it happened. The tears won’t come. I won’t let them. I’m about to walk out the door when my cell buzzes. It’s Bennett.

  “Hey, you alright pretty girl?”

  “Yeah. Just had a migraine yesterday.”

  “I was going to come over, but thought you’d want to sleep.”

  “Yeah. Thanks. Did you have a good trip?” I try and sound upbeat, but I know my voice is flat.

  “Not sure about good, but it was interesting. Anyway I’m just calling to let you know I heard from the police.”

  “The police?”

  “Yeah. They’ve got your purse from that night you were attacked.”

  “No kidding.”

  “Usually. But not now. It’s too early.”

  I check my cell and realize it’s only half past seven. “Oh, yeah, didn’t realize the time.”

  “Do you want me to come with you?”

  “Um … no. I’m ready now, so I’ll go to the precinct before work.”

  “Why are you such an early bird? Did you get too much sleep?”

  I try to laugh, but don’t really pull it off. “Yeah, lazy, huh?”

  “You sure you’re alright, Bales, you sound off.”

  I bite my lip to hold back the tears. Do not cry. Do not cry.

  “Yeah. Look I better go, I’ll see you later.”

  I press end, and suck in a large sob, the tears start to fall and I wipe them away quickly.

  Hold it together Bailey Ryan.

  I go to the bathroom and wash my pasty, ghost like face. There are dark circles under my eyes, but I don’t have the energy to apply much make up. I gloss my lips and pinch my cheeks. I’m not sure if I’ll go into work again today.

  After locking the door I head out into the cold winter morning. It’s three buses to get to the police precinct near where I used to live. It takes me nearly an hour and a half to get there. I can’t believe I used to live out here and commute. I go into the old building and find the reception desk. There’s a kind looking white haired police officer behind the counter who greets me with a smile. “Can I help you, young lady?”

  I explain about my purse and he walks away and disappears into a back room, returning with my tattered black purse. I nearly cry when I see it. It’s like getting an old friend back again.

  “You okay, dear,” the police officer asks. “Is that the wrong purse?”

  “No. No. It’s perfect. Thank you so much.”

  I don’t want to start crying again, especially not here. I quickly scrawl my signature on the paperwork and make my way out the door, when a voice shouts out f
rom behind, “Bailey. Bailey Ryan.”

  Shit. That sounds like … God why is he here?

  Not today. I can’t deal with him today. I pretend like I don’t hear him and quicken my pace, when I hear footsteps pounding right behind me.

  “Hey, Bailey.”

  I can’t ignore him any longer, so I turn and try really hard not to roll my eyes. “Luke. Fancy seeing you here.”

  He looks terrible. Worse than I do. I presume he’s been involved in some brawl or other. There are purple bruises and dry cuts marking his face. His clothes are dirty and there’s a tear in his black shirt.

  “I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

  I cross my arms. I don’t have time for his flirtations. “Yeah. What about?”

  “You remember those little pink pills.”

  Shit. I forgot all about those.

  I frown and glance over to see a couple of police officers trudge down the steps. I walk a little further away and Luke follows me.

  “I got rid of them,” I whisper.

  “Good. That was some wacky shit. Knocked me out for a few days. Felt good at the time, but boy did it give me a massive headache for three days. Just thought I’d warn you. You know in case you wanted to party.”

  I scoff and shake my head. That is the absolute last thing on my mind. “Noted. Thanks for the update.”

  “Why are you here anyway?” he asks with a frown.

  He must think it’s obvious why he is. I hold up my purse. “Got some stolen property back.”

  “No shit. I didn't think that ever happened.”

  “Must be my lucky day.”

  “Must be. You need a ride to work?”

  As much as I’m not looking forward to being on a stinky bus for the next hour, I’d rather that, than go anywhere with Luke.

  “I’m alright. Looks like you need to go home and change first. I’ll see you round, Luke.”

  “Yeah. Guess so. Oh and Bailey,” I was almost three footsteps away, but out of politeness I turn and wait. “Don’t forget what I said. If you still have the candy, get rid of it. I can always hook you up with better shit.”

  I nod. “Thanks for the offer, but not likely. Bye Luke.”

  I hop on the next bus and high tail it out of there. I don’t expect I’ll ever return here.

  I really have no desire or reason to now.

  I didn’t go into work. I couldn’t. I’ve cleaned the apartment five times. Now I’m standing and staring at the trash pack with my bed linen and pj’s from that night. I have to throw it away, but I can’t do it. It would be like throwing away ... I refuse to finish that thought.

  My stomach clenches and I rub my hand over my empty stomach. I hug my arms around my middle and fall to the floor. This is hard. It’s really hard. I want to forget. I want the pain to go away.

  And image of pink pills pops into my mind.

  What did Luke say? ... Knock you out...

  I want to be knocked out.

  Without another thought I race to my closet and pull out everything till I find the purse I was using that night. Eventually I find it hidden under a pile of clothes. I’d forgotten all about it till now. And right now I need it, like I need my next breath. I quickly unfasten the clasp and see the plastic bag. I rip it out and go to the kitchen. I’ll need to wash it down with something. I only have a little bottle of margarita mix Bennett gave me for my birthday. That will do. There are four little pink pills, but I don’t want to take too many. I want a trip to the stars not to hospital. I put one on my tongue and swallow a hit of margarita straight from the bottle. I smack my lips together, that seems like an appropriate thing to do. Like I’m a bad ass who does this kind of thing all the time. Yeah right!

  I’m on edge, I have no idea how long this will take, but I need to move. Dancing. Yeah, dancing seems like a great idea. I plug in my cell to the little speaker I bought, and crank it up as high as it will go, which I didn’t think was all that high. When suddenly my ears explode. The track pumps out and I imagine a whole series of strobe lights flicking over me. I strip down to my bra and panties. It’s really hot in here. The music consumes me and I sway and start to step out around the room. God, this feels so good. I giggle at the sensation of being near naked in my apartment shaking my ass around, like I'm some disco diva. My whole body is pumped. The energy buzzing all over me is incredible. I start to sing and dance and move and the whole world is exploding with color and light and I’m so, so happy...

  Ew ... what is that awful smell? What is that awful taste in my mouth? Holy hell my head feels like I’ve been sledged with an almighty hammer. My mouth is dry and I’m so thirsty. I need to open my eyes. Come on, it's not that hard. But it is. I try really hard to make it happen, but nothing.

  “Bales, Bales...”

  Bennett? What the hell is he doing here? What happened to the music? To the dancing? I was having a good time. Wasn’t I?

  I’m not having a good time now.

  Come on eyes, do it. Do it now. I make them flutter and a small glint of bright white light slips in, and it's like I’m being stabbed in the eye with a needle. Ouch! I shut them tight again. That hurts. Everything hurts. I think I’m going to be sick, and judging from the disgusting taste in my mouth, I’m betting I already have been.

  “Bales, squeeze my hand if you can hear me.”

  Okay. I can do that.

  I feel a nice warm hand slip in my sweaty one. I give a weak clench and I hear a big sigh. “Jesus, Bales, you scared the shit out of me.”

  I did? I was only dancing. I know that can be pretty scary, but ...

  “What the hell did you take?”

  I bite my lip. Oh. I forgot about that. Probably not the best idea I’ve ever had.

  I croak out. “Nothing bad.” I still can’t open my eyes, but at least I can talk.

  “Bull shit. Where the hell did you get it from anyway?”

  He sounds really pissed. “Sorry.”

  I hear him huff and blow out some big breaths. “You should know better Bales, what the hell were you thinking.”

  I give a small shrug, which hurts.

  “Where am I?” I ask, to divert the conversation. I don’t like Bennett being pissed at me.

  “In the emergency ward of the hospital.”

  What? I hate hospitals, I swore I’d never come here again, not after mom died.

  “Why? I’m okay, I’ve just got a headache.”

  “Bales, you were passed out cold on the floor of your apartment. God knows what was in those pink pills. I’m so angry with you. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Oh god, did he find the trash pack and look through it?

  I hope not. I really hope not. I don’t want anyone to know. I never want anyone to know.

  I splutter, “Tell you what?”

  “That you were so cut up about Andy. I didn’t realize how much he affected you.”

  Phew. Deep breath. “Yeah. Well, I guess I didn’t either.”

  I am such a liar.

  Bennett picks up my hand and kisses it. “I’m here for you Bales. I’ll always be here for you.”

  Wow, that’s heartfelt for Bennett. No joking around.

  I swallow. “Thanks, can you get me some water, I'm really thirsty.”

  “Yeah. I’ll go buy you a bottle from the vending machine. I’ll be back. Don’t go anywhere.”

  I give a small smile. “I’ll be here.” I don’t think I could move even if I wanted to. Each time I move even a little bit, my whole body aches.

  While Bennett’s gone I try and open my eyes again. They sting, like someone poured bleach in them, but I force them open and look around at the stark, white surroundings.

  I’m such an idiot. I can’t believe I took drugs. I’ve never done that. Ever. And after today, I’m never doing it again. Ever.

  Another lesson learnt Bailey Ryan.

  It’s Christmas.

  I’m sitting in my apartment alone. It’s been over a week since it happened, but it still
stings to think about. I imagine it always will. A part of me will always ache for the loss of my baby. A baby I didn’t think I wanted, but now I want it so badly.

  Irony’s a bitch.

  I haven’t been back to work. Bennett took some time off to look after me, and has been here every day fussing and acting like a mother hen. He’s so sweet. First thing he did when he brought me home was to flush the little pink pills. Not that I would have taken them again. Or I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have. But sometimes, in those darker moments ... I shiver thinking about it.

  Bennett’s gone to spend the holidays with his family. He wanted to take me as well. But I lied again. I told him I wanted to go home for Christmas. I do. But I’m not ready just yet. I couldn’t face Christmas. The pretence of being jolly and all that brightness. Not yet.

  It’s really cold, I have the heating cranked up as high as it will go, and I’m all snuggled in my track pants, sweater and blanket. Curled on the couch, watching old Christmas movies. One comes on and its mine and Cam’s favorite. Mickey Mouse’s Christmas Carol. We loved it as kids and always watched it together every year on Christmas Eve. I miss him so much. I miss my dad so much. I miss home so much. I sigh and look around at the four walls of my apartment. And that’s all they are. Four walls. Four walls holding me here. They aren’t walls that I love, or walls that make me happy. I haven’t been happy since the day I arrived. And now I know where I am happy and what makes me happy, and it’s not here.

  I pull my old cell from my pocket and scroll through the photos of home. I’ve looked at them every day since I got my purse back. I wish I could give the police officer who found it a huge hug. That was the best Christmas gift ever. I have my family and friends back. Back in my pocket to carry around with me. To look at every day. To hold every day.

  Except it’s not the real thing.

  I want the real thing. I want to go home. I want to see my Dad and Gerry and Cam. I really want to see Cam. I still love him. I never stopped. I hope for a second, that maybe, just maybe he might still love me. I know how much I hurt him. He’s probably moved on, has a new girl in his life. That stings to think about, but it stings even more to think about never giving it a try. I would hate myself for not trying. Regrets are not something I want to live with. My mom had enough of those to last both of our lifetimes.