The Space Between Us

by Anie Michaels

  I was still getting sick in the mornings, but the nausea seeped into the evenings as well. I was losing weight because I couldn’t keep anything down. Reeve was obviously worried about me and her patience was wearing thin with Asher.

  “He should be here taking care of you,” she said to me the morning of my doctor appointment. “He should be the one going with you today, not me.”

  “You don’t have to go with me,” I said, feeling guilty about everything she had done for me in the last three weeks. She was right though. She shouldn’t be the one going with me.

  “Hey,” she said as she came to stand in front of me. “There’s nothing in the world that would keep me out of that exam room. I’m here for you, one hundred percent. I just wish Asher would get his head out of his ass.”

  “Have you spoken to him?” I asked hopefully.

  “No. He won’t answer my texts. I will text him today and tell him when and where the appointment is, and hopefully he’ll surprise us both and show up.” I didn’t expect a different answer, but knowing that he wasn’t talking to either one of us somehow hurt more than I had anticipated. I just wanted to know how he was feeling. I’d given him the space he asked for, but being apart from each other didn’t make me any less pregnant.

  I sat in my first class of the day when I felt a tight pinch very low in my belly. It made me wince, but was gone quickly enough. I took a few deep breaths and tried to concentrate on the lecture. In my next class, I felt the pinch again and it was more painful. I clutched my stomach and gave a small gasp. The girl sitting next to me leaned over and asked me if I was ok. I tried to keep a small smile on my face and nodded at her. She didn’t look like she believed me, but turned back to the professor at the front of the class. A few minutes later the pain was back and I had to leave the class.

  The pain was unreal, and it was coming and going in waves. I was in the bathroom, bent over in pain, trying to call Reeve. When I finally got ahold of her, I begged her to pick me up to take me to the hospital.

  “Something is wrong,” I cried.

  “I’ll be right there.”

  I made it to the front of the building and only had to wait a few minutes for Reeve’s car to come screeching around the corner. When I got in, I was trying to keep the pain from my face.

  “What’s going on?”

  “I’m just having some pains in my stomach. Can we stop at Asher’s house first please?”

  “Charlie, if something’s wrong you need to go to the hospital.”

  “I need Asher.” She looked at me hard for a few seconds and then pulled away from the curb. My stomach cramped the whole drive to his house and when Reeve parked, I had to take some deep breaths before I could get out.

  “Do you want me to come with you?”

  I shook my head. “I will be right back. I just need him to come with me.” It hadn’t occurred to me that he might not even be home. I hoped he was in the house; I needed him more at that moment than I ever had before.

  I walked through the door that lead into the dining area. I gasped and grabbed onto a table to keep myself upright as pain shot through my abdomen. I cried out, but tried to muffle the sound, not wanting anyone to find me crying in the middle of their house. Once the pain subsided a bit, I walked gingerly towards the stairs. I started to climb the stairs slowly, one step at a time, afraid that some sudden movement would cause more pain. I made it halfway up when another bolt of pain rocketed through me. This time though, along with the pain, came a warm wetness between my legs. I was bleeding and the realization made me silently cry out. I slowly continued up the stairs and eventually made it to Asher’s door.

  Hot tears ran down my face, but I was still silent, wanting just to get Asher and get out of the house. I didn’t need anyone finding me like this. Bleeding and crying in a frat house. I needed to get out of there unnoticed. I turned his doorknob and pushed the door open slowly.

  I bled.

  I cried.

  I lost my baby, of that I was sure.

  I stared at the only boy I’d ever loved, the boy who had promised me the world and then disappeared, laying underneath a blonde who was straddling him. Naked.

  My hand flew up to cover my mouth. One hand silenced the pain I felt watching Asher fuck someone else, the other hand covered my belly, trying to hold on to the last moments I had with my child.

  My mind was in shock, not wanting to believe that Asher would really be having sex with someone else. And I might not have believed it if I couldn’t see my name, the name he’d given me out of love, in bold black ink, covering the arm that was wrapped around whoever was atop him. I left the door open and ran as quickly as I could out to Reeve’s car. When I made it in the car, all the cries I held in came pouring out.

  “Please Reeve, get me to the hospital.” She peeled out of her parking spot and drove down the street.

  “What happened up there?” Reeve looked panicked as she sped down the street. “Charlie, talk to me. What’s going on?”

  “I’m losing the baby, Reeve. I can feel it. I’m bleeding and I’m losing the baby.” More sobs came from me, but I couldn’t stifle them back, couldn’t hold them in. My hands were occupied, cradling my stomach, the pain overwhelming. “Asher was in his room with some girl.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, he was fucking someone else while I sat there bleeding in his doorway.” Reeve was silent. I didn’t really expect her to have anything to say. What was there to say? “I don’t want to talk about it. Just get me to the hospital.”

  Once we got to the ER it was a complete whirlwind. The nurse at the admin desk saw me, saw the blood between my legs, and ushered me back to a triage room immediately. She tried to argue with Reeve that she couldn’t come and Reeve promptly put her in her place. I managed to convince the nurse to let her stay with me, confiding in her that I had no one else.

  I was given a gown and when I changed, I cringed at the amount of blood that I had actually lost.

  “Oh my god, Charlie,” Reeve said from her chair. I tried not to look, but it was impossible. Most of my pants were soaked with blood. After getting the gown on and climbing on the exam table, I could still feel more blood emptying out of me. The cramping was getting worse and it was all I could do to hold my stomach until the doctor came in.

  A woman with dark hair entered the room pushing a machine. She looked me over, her face not showing any emotion, and introduced herself.

  “I’m Dr. Lance. You’re Charlie?”

  “Yes. That’s me,” I squeaked.

  “How many weeks pregnant are you?” She asked while she started fiddling with the machine she’d brought in with her.

  “I don’t know exactly. I haven’t had my first pre-natal visit yet. My last period was five weeks ago.” The doctor nodded and moved closer to me and the exam table.

  “Ok, Charlie, I am going to do an ultrasound on your stomach to try and see what we’re dealing with, ok?”

  I nodded my head, unable to use my voice in that moment. I was already positive about what was happening. Dr. Lance squirted some gel on my stomach and then took something from the machine that looked like a remote control, placed it on the gel, and moved it around. I looked up at the screen and it looked like a TV without a signal – black, with little, white snow. Finally, there seemed to be a bigger black area on the screen and the doctor stopped moving the wand around.

  “Ok, here’s your uterus, Charlie.” Time stood still. I silently prayed to hear good news. I begged someone, somewhere, to hear me and to save my baby.

  “Do you see these two circular looking areas?” She said as she pointed to two small round objects on the screen.

  “Yes,” I managed.

  “Those are the babies. You look to be about ten weeks along. But, I’m sorry, Charlie. Neither one has a heartbeat.”

  “Babies?” I cried.

  “Twins.”

  “And they’re gone?”

  “I’m afraid so.”
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  “Oh my god,” I cried. I rolled over onto my side, caring nothing about the doctor or her examination, and gave in to the wave of grief that washed over me. I felt arms wrap around me and I heard Reeve’s voice in my ear, whispering apologies and comforting words I didn’t understand.

  Even though I knew what was happening before we entered the exam room, hearing the words, being told that I lost not one but two babies, broke me. For just a moment I wanted to die with them. I wasn’t sure I had anything left to continue on for in this life. I pictured Asher’s hand on the small of that girl’s back, him enjoying another woman, while I was losing my babies. I couldn’t possibly imagine walking out of that hospital and having anything to go back to.

  Would I be able to hold my babies in the afterlife? Would they be the chubby-cheeked, smiling angels I pictured them to be? Could I hold them close to me and breathe in their baby smell? Could I sing to them the same songs I remember my mother singing to me? Could I see my mother again? Would she be waiting for me, my two angel babies in her arms? Perhaps, we could all be together again. Maybe.

  My thoughts were interrupted by Reeve’s voice.

  “Charlie, you need to come back to us.”

  The only thing that kept me tethered to this world was the fear that death would only bring nothingness. The pain I felt made everything real. The babies were real. The agony of remembering them would be better than not having anything at all to cling to.

  “Charlie, please, look at me.”

  I finally rolled back over to look at Reeve who was also crying. The doctor still stood next to the exam table, a concerned yet professional look on her face.

  “Why…” I choked on the words. “Why would this happen?” I asked the doctor.

  “Healthy women miscarry babies more often than you’d think. It’s a sad yet true fact. Sometimes the pregnancies just don’t take or there is something wrong with the babies that we just can’t see at this early stage. There is no indication that women who experience a miscarriage can’t go on to have full-term, healthy pregnancies later in life. I’m sorry.”

  “But what was wrong with this pregnancy?” I asked again, desperate for answers, desperate for a reason. “Why my babies?”

  “There’s no real way to know, Charlie. Miscarriages, especially in the first trimester, are common, unfortunately. But listen to me when I say this. There is nothing you could have done to prevent this from happening. This was not because you did something wrong. This just happens and I can’t give you a reason, medically.”

  No reason. No explanation. Nothing. Emptiness.

  “What happens now?” I whispered. One question, so many meanings.

  “Your body will continue to bleed,” the doctor paused for a moment. “Eventually, the embryos will pass, along with the blood and clots. You will experience cramps, just like you would during your period, although they may be intense and more painful. You might bleed for up to two weeks. Most women feel fine within a week or so.”

  I hated my body in that moment. My body couldn’t hold onto my babies. My body would soon eject them. Toss them away.

  “I can prescribe you some stronger pain relief than you would get over-the-counter if you would like.” I nodded. I would welcome any medicine that would take me away for a little while. “You should go home and take it easy. Rest. Perhaps not be alone,” she said, looking at Reeve.

  “I’ll stay with her,” Reeve answered. The doctor continued to talk and Reeve continued to listen, but I tuned everything out. I couldn’t be bothered with any more thoughts, or facts, or apologies. The doctor brought in a pair of mesh underwear that looked like fishing net and a large pad. The whole thing looked ridiculous but I put it on and decided to leave my pants behind. Reeve and I walked out to her car, her helping me keep my hospital gown closed. We drove through a pharmacy, got my pain meds, and then went home.

  After a week of crying, staying in bed except to shower and eat, not hearing from Asher, and not answering any of Reeve’s questions about him, I made the decision to leave. To leave it all behind. There was nothing left for me there. Nothing outweighed the pain of being there. Reeve went out to the store and I took the opportunity to pack a small bag. I left most of my things behind because they simply didn’t matter. I left Reeve a small note, apologizing for leaving without saying goodbye, but explaining that I would call her when I could.

  And then I left.

  Part III

  Chapter One

  Asher

  The knocking on the door dragged me away from my computer screen and forced me to blink, something I wasn’t sure I’d done in the last hour. At least, I hadn’t done it enough. My eyes felt like they might be filled with saw dust for all the scratchy-stickiness that came with the blinks I gave at the sight of Phil at the door to my office.

  “Hey man,” Phil said. His voice sounded worried. “We just got a call from Willow Falls Memorial.” My heart plummeted at those words because I already knew what they meant. I’d been waiting for this call every day for the last month. Waiting for the news that I knew would change my world forever. I’d been dreading this phone call, but knew there was nothing I could do to avoid it.

  “Yeah?” I said, even though I could feel the words before he said them.

  “The nurse on Charles McBride’s floor says it’s time.”

  “Damn it.” I rubbed my hands up and down my face. “Ok, thanks. I’ll leave right now and head down there.”

  “You gonna be ok?” Phil asked sincerely.

  “Yeah, thanks man.” Was I going to be ok? Probably not. But that didn’t matter. I hadn’t been ok in a long time. I hadn’t been ok in over thirteen years. That’s how long ago it was I made the biggest mistake of my life, and I was still paying for it. But that was ok; I would gladly pay my debt forever. Pay for my mistakes. Nothing that happened to me would make up for what I had done thirteen years ago, so this was just a drop in the bucket of pain I would endure because I knew I deserved it.

  I closed my laptop and grabbed my suit jacket off the coat rack by the door. I rode the elevator all the way down to the bottom floor and walked through the lobby and out the doors of Libman & Carmichael Law Offices.

  The drive to the hospital was one I was familiar with. I drove to the hospital to visit Charles once or twice a week since he was admitted. The fact that I pulled into the parking structure with no real recollection of how I had actually arrived there wasn’t surprising. I had a million things running through my mind, and driving to that particular hospital became second nature to me recently. I walked through the main doors to the hospital and wound my way through the corridors, took the elevator up to the fifth floor, and found the room that was home to Charles for the last three months.

  I’m not sure what I expected once I arrived at his room, but I wasn’t expecting it to be so quiet. In the past when I had walked into this room, Charles greeted me with a smile, a wave, and a quiet hello. As the weeks passed, his strength waned, and in the last week I was lucky if he’d been able to speak. But the silence in the room now was filling the empty space like water, pouring in, making me nervous. Drowning in this silence was inevitable. The only noise to be heard was the heart monitor beeping at regular intervals, keeping time to the emptiness.

  After a few minutes of sitting in the uncomfortable chair next to his hospital bed, Rachel, a nurse I was familiar with, entered the room.

  “Hello Asher,” she said sweetly with a sad look on her face.

  “Hi, Rachel,” I responded, rubbing my hands over my face. She walked to the other side of his bed, checking his IV and looking at the paper printing out of the machine monitoring his heart.

  “You seem comfortable, Charlie,” she said to him. My heart lurched at the name. His name was Charles. Charlie was someone else entirely. Charles always understood how it affected me whenever someone called him Charlie and tried to correct them for my sake. But he was unconscious now and probably would never be awake again. These were his final h
ours and I’d let Rachel call him whatever she wanted. I’d deal with the pain of hearing her name; it was the least I could do. Today wasn’t about me or the guilt and pain I carried around. Today was about Charles. “Do you need anything?” She asked me. I smiled at her thoughtful question. She was more than likely accustomed to helping families dealing with the loss of their loved one. But I wasn’t family.

  “I’m fine, thank you.”

  “Let me know.”

  “Rachel?”

  “Yes?”

  I looked over at Charles and then back to her. “How much longer?”

  “Not long. Hours, maybe.”

  “Has anyone called his daughter?”

  She shook her head. “He said he didn’t want anyone to be called but you.” I nodded, understanding. She left, quietly shutting the door behind her. I turned back to look at Charles McBride. The man who I had grown so close to over the last thirteen years. The man who became a friend, but more like a second father to me. The man who I selfishly and admittedly used as a lifeline to the one person I knew I had to live without.

  “Charles,” I said, moving closer to the bed, seeking out his hand. I never held a man’s hand before, but I figured that if I was trying to cross over, if I was on my death bed, I would want someone to hold my hand. “I’m here, Charles. I’m here. I came.” I paused, looking down at our hands, mine clasped around his. His hand was limp in mine, not responding to me. “I don’t know if you can hear me, but I want you to know that I’ll take care of everything, Charles. You’ve done a great job planning for this, making sure everything is laid out right, and I will make sure it gets done.”

  Over the last thirteen years Charles and I developed a friendship. At first, I needed him in order to feel close to her. I went around to try and breathe in a piece of her, to soak up any part of her I could. But, eventually, after it become obvious that any relationship between him and I wouldn’t involve any piece of her, our own friendship developed. As the years passed, we only spoke about her in theory and only recently. He never told me any detail about her life now. He never discussed where she was, what she was doing, how she was. If I was going to be his friend, it wouldn’t include her in any way.