My heart wanted to believe—needed to believe—that Reed was still here. The first night, I sat on the floor next to his side of the bed and hugged his pillow. I held it so tight, for so long, just smelling his scent that still lingered on it, thinking that if I can still smell him, then that must mean Reed wasn’t really gone. Whenever our front door slammed, my hope would surge, thinking for sure it was Reed walking in and everything would be right in the world.
I desperately tried to hold on to what was left of my sanity, of my heart, drunk on the small amount of hope. I felt like I’d been walking around in a daze, my life wasn’t really my life. I’d convinced myself that Reed leaving was just some sick joke, some awful nightmare, and that when I’d wake up, Reed would still be holding me, telling me that he would never leave me. Only I never woke up.
That stage lasted for twenty-two days until one day, Lance came over to get more of Reed’s clothes and some important paperwork Reed needed. The lockbox that held all our important documents suddenly only housed mine. Reed’s passport, birth certificate, his shot records, clothes—gone. He’d taken his prized picture book from his early days of fighting. I’d been too shocked that Reed was actually gone to ask Lance anything about how he was, how he could leave me, how—if he really loved me—he could just walk away from me like I was nothing. I was left with only a few of his clothes that I hid in the back of my own drawers, some old shoes, his pillow that I refused to hand over because I still slept with it, leftover memories, and still not a single word from him. My stupid, broken heart held me captive.
The next stage sucked; pain. I hated this one. I cried till my eyes were swollen, red, and unable to open. The only time I would eat, shower, or change was when someone forced me to. For seventeen days, I curled into a ball on the end of my bed, never taking off one of Reed’s sweatshirts and sobbed over and over in his pillow, which had become my own security blanket. Each room I would step into, I was assaulted with pictures of us—pictures of us happy, memories of us in love, kissing, smiling, and laughing. And then, the questions started to eat away inside. Was I the only one that was in love? Was I the only one that felt anything? What was I supposed to do with all the love I had left for him? Did I ever mean anything real to him? Why was he with me?
How could he do this to me?
My parents, my sister-in-law Sarah, Court, and my brothers would take shifts staying with me. Held me. Cared for me like I was a defenseless infant. I’m pretty sure they were all too scared I would do something stupid if I didn’t have someone with me and, honestly, the thought crossed my mind more than I’d like to admit. I was a blubbering mess—weak, broken, shattered. One day, Mark—my strong brother that never showed any serious emotion—came in and had tears in his eyes when he noticed how I hadn’t moved and inch from where he’d left me the night before. That’s when I knew I couldn’t continue like I had been. I swore to myself I would try. My hopes for Reed coming back died. I was done letting the memories kill me, because what did loving Reed really get me?
How I wish it stayed that way.
I was okay, getting a little stronger each day after that. Honestly, I was faking it, thinking—hoping—that if I faked it just enough, I would eventually be better than okay. That was until the stabbing pains in my stomach and the warm trail of dark red blood running down my legs changed everything once again. For the last fifty-six days, I’ve been living on this edge, searching for the courage to just jump off it. Wanting to do anything to take away this crippling pain that had lodged itself inside me.
That night, I lost it all in the hospital. The doctor turned to me with a somber expression after looking at the screen. I’ll never forget the words he spoke to me, they’ll forever stay in the back of my mind, playing on constant repeat all the time. “Sorry to inform you of this, Ms. Thomas, but the fetus you were caring doesn’t seem to have a heart beat anymore. We will need to speak about some options.” My eyes never left the screen as the doctor continued to press into my stomach with the wand. I saw it…my baby—our baby—and I silently pled to God to see that any movement, even a flutter, but it never materialized. It was gone.
Everything after that happened in slow motion. I heard Mark gasp from across the room as his fist pounded into the wall and then I watched him storm out. My mother never loosened her hold of my hand, looking with tear-filled eyes toward my dad, who just stood there with wide, shocked eyes. Then, the inevitable breakdown I’d been holding in happened: clawing out my IVs, jumping out of bed, and throwing anything within my reach. Matt’s voice telling me to calm down and that it was going to be all right became background noise as I pounded into his chest. But nothing would ever be all right. The baby I never knew had been growing inside of me was dead. The baby I loved, the baby I needed, was gone, fell through my fingertips, and ripped away from me, just like Reed. How could anything be all right again?
Matt’s eyes glazed over as a sharp prick hit my neck and a burning sensation ran through my veins. Voices became too far away to understand anything being said, and faces of the people I loved blurred all around me. My eyes were no longer able to focus on anything but the white wall in front of me as my arms went limp and my knees buckled below me causing my brother to cling to me to keep me from falling to the floor, my head lulled to the side. Then nothingness.
Three days later, I woke up alone with an emptiness inside…I pleaded with the first nurse that had walked through that door to tell me what my baby was. I needed a name and couldn’t do that without a gender. Leaving the hospital, I wiped away the last fallen tear I’d shed over Reed and my losses, our losses.
I was too selfish to even know I’d been pregnant until after I lost my baby. Just thinking about how I had let our baby down by not being a good mom, even before she was born, is the hardest part of all of this. I dream every night of the little girl with pigtails, with Reed’s hazel eyes staring up at me, calling me mommy, but I will never know any of that. Because everything’s changed, and no amount of hope, tears, or love can reverse the damage.
It’s taking all of the power I possess to appear whole. I’m in a place deep inside my head that’s so dark, so lonely, and I’m trapped here, can’t find a way out, and oh, how I have tried. I’ve never felt so alone, hollow…empty. This hole in my chest is so deep I don’t think I will ever return to the person I once was. How can anything make me happy, make me smile again when it won’t go away?
It’s ironic to me that a heart that feels so broken can still beat and keep me alive. I go from one day to the next, day and night, night and day in pain. I’m slowly falling apart, and if I don’t do something—anything—soon, I’m afraid I will be like this forever. Just maybe, I deserve it, so I just let it hurt, let it burn, because sometimes, that’s the only thing you can do.
I’m not sure how I did it, but, somehow, I graduated fourteen days ago. I have a feeling my parents had something to do with it since I didn’t even make it to three of my finals. I wasn’t going to walk, didn’t want to, but Matt talked me into it. He said it was selfish of me if I didn’t since it meant so much to my parents to see me cross the stage and get my diploma, that even if I don’t want it now, one day, I would look back and wish I did. I faked what resembled a smile for pictures and put my face on for those people that loved me the most, and half-attempted to engage in conversation with the people around me. I even spotted Lance in the crowd, which surprised me.
A few days after graduation, Sarah and Courtney dragged me out of the house, and the only place I wanted to go was to a tattoo parlor. I’m sure it shocked them, but no protests were spoken, since at least I was talking. I knew when I walked in those doors what I was going to get—three sparrows on my left shoulder blade: a larger one for Reed, one slightly smaller for me, both of us flying in separate directions, and a tiny one flying to the sky for the baby I’d lost. The pain the needle gave me helped numb my heart, proving the tribute to remember Reed and our baby by was perfect. I craved the memories of him and the
life we promised each other, even if they fade from my heart and mind, all I have to do is turn around and remember that love did this to me. Although, somehow, I know I’ll never need that reminder.
I always stand by my window, staring mindlessly outside—my mind demands the quiet it gives me. It’s rained every single day that I haven’t cried, fifty-seven days of record-breaking rain. Most of the time, it’s not pouring but instead, it’s an annoyingly constant drizzle with the clouds the color of smoke. The outside seems to mirror what I feel on the inside. I wonder if anyone else has put these two things together.
Courtney says I’m numb. Her words were “a zombie,” I think. But she couldn’t be more wrong—I’m anything but numb. The pit in my chest is still there, growing wider and deeper every day, morphing into a crater of pain and despair. I know it’s scaring everyone—damn, it scares the hell out of me, too—but I just can’t stop. Holding myself together is a lot harder than I ever thought it would be, and the strength it takes to get out of bed every day is all I have left. Not only did I lose Reed that night, but I also lost the future he held in the palm of his hands. But you just have to stop putting off the pain and let everything inside take over. I can look back over my relationship with Reed and say I did everything to try to make him stay—I sacrificed myself for him, pushed my wants, my needs, down to make him love me. The most terrifying thing is that I would do it all over again if he came back. And a small, minuscule part of me thinks he may actually do that. But it won’t work that way.
Nothing works that way once the price has been paid for loving a man like Reed. You don’t get to return a broken heart.
Courtney slams my front door, succeeding at pulling me out of my own head. She comes over almost every day, brings me takeout, forces me in the shower, makes me change out the clothes Reed left behind, and always tries to convince me to get out of this apartment. It rarely works, and when I do let her take me out, I end up in bed for days after that. But at least she’s trying, God love her for that.
Courtney is truly the best, best friend I could ever ask for. She’s always there for me and never once asks for anything in return. My parents’ partner’s son took over the office up here because they moved—reluctantly—to Atlanta full time a couple of weeks after I left the hospital. I haven’t seen much of Mark since he walked out of the hospital, but that doesn’t surprise me. He always puts distance between us if he can’t protect me. He did come over last week, said it hurts him too much to see me like this and I remind him of someone he used to know. Until I start trying for myself, he won’t be here to watch me self-destruct anymore. Sarah tells me it’s bigger than that and one day, Mark will tell me why, but I honestly just don’t care.
Matt got his own department in Thomas/Roberts Holdings and is heading it up in Atlanta with my dad, causing him to be too busy to deal with his heartbroken sister. Not that I blame any of them for not coming to see me so much—I wouldn’t want to be around me if I had any other choice. All my other friends were friends to “us” as a couple, so I don’t want to see or be around any of them. It reminds me too much that he isn’t here with me. But not Courtney—she’s all mine, has been for fifteen years, ever since she made fun of my pink Converse sneakers with my tutu that I wore on the first day of first grade. She is the sister I never had and without her, I don’t think I could survive.
I turn away from the window and look over at the door, seeing Courtney walk in. Now that I think about it, I’m pretty sure she has been MIA for at least a couple of days, and maybe she’s had enough of me now, too. She’s soaked from the dreary storm outside. Her pin straight, shoulder length brown hair—that I know she spent an hour to make it perfect—is ruined and wavy. Her blue rain jacket saved her top, although the same can’t be said for her pants. If I were my old self, the sight of my always perfectly put together best friend looking like a hot mess would have me laughing so hard my stomach would be hurting. Instead, it only gets a small smile from me, but I guess something is better than the blank stare I usually have. Courtney notices the corners of my mouth curl up and her whole face lights up like she just heard Jimmy Choo is giving away free shoes.
“Don’t you dare give me that look, bitch, because I got your favorite from Chipotle considering you probably haven’t eaten since I came two days ago. Well good, at least you’ve changed clothes.” She gestures to my now oversized yoga pants and T-shirt—which used to be formfitting, but now it’s two sizes too big—and one of Reed’s zip ups that swallows me whole.
I haven’t been hungry since Reed left, but the smell of my favorite food makes my stomach growl. “Thanks, that does sound good. Let me run up to my bedroom and get you some dry clothes.”
“Thanks, Hads. I got a smile and you want to eat. Score one and two, what are you going to do next? If you break out in a dance, my day will be made. Just FYI,” she yells up the stairs as I grab her a towel and pants from my dresser.
“Well, I don’t think you will get anything else, but here’s some dry stuff anyway,” I say, handing her the clothes. She moves her feet enough for me to notice her huge overnight bag sitting beside my door.
“Um, Courtney…are you moving in? You know it’s only one bedroom,” I say.
She laughs. “You got jokes, too? It’s a miracle, I tell you. I should leave and come back next week…you may be a comedian by then. It’s good to see you didn’t lose your so-called wit since you’ve turned into a brain eating zombie.”
I roll my eyes and hand her the towel, feeling stuck somewhere between annoyance and humor. “Ha-ha, very funny. Seriously, why do you have that bag with you, lady? You never bring that thing unless you are staying somewhere for a while.”
She wrings out her hair with a huge mischievous smile on her face. “I may or may not have just come back from spending a couple of nights at Lance’s, and he may or may not have just dropped me off.” She wiggles her eyebrows up and down.
Crazy, they don’t ever spend the night when they are done with each other unless they pass out drunk, and it’s definitely never planned in advance. But she may have said something and I didn’t actually process what I’d heard, which seems to be happening way too much lately. I’ve let my depression take control over everything to the point that I don’t see what’s happening to my best friend—well, my only friend at this point.
“Are guys getting serious? I thought both of you just agreed it would only be hooking up.” I try my hardest to sound upbeat because she does deserve to have someone, even if that someone reminds me of Reed, which in turn reminds me of my baby, which then reminds of why I’m depressed. What a sick cycle.
Courtney stops drying herself off and the playful attitude from a minute ago is gone. She turns painfully slow and locks eyes with mine. Raw pity and tenderness are written all over her face.
“Hadley, I need to tell you something, and I’m not sure how you will take it. I don’t want you to be mad that I didn’t tell you before, okay? We just didn’t know how you would take it since you have been barely holding on as it is.” This is just what I wanted today—something about Reed.
“Okay… One, who is the ‘we’? Two, please don’t feel like you can’t tell me something. I need the truth, always. Three, I won’t go and jump off the roof anytime soon. Which, by the way you are acting, I am sure it is about Reed anyway.”
Courtney seems shocked that I know all of her secrets.
“Don’t look at me like that. You would have told me about whatever it is before if it wasn’t about Reed. I know you too well.”
She studies me for a minute and then says, “I understand, I really do. Hads, you are just scaring us, your family, me. We don’t want you to fall any deeper if we can help it. Lance and I are only hooking up—well, were. He got a call two weeks ago from Reed. He has his first real fight in four days and wanted Lance in the cage with him. Lance, being jerk face’s best friend, agreed right away. He decided to move out to Vegas to help train Reed since they have been working togeth
er for forever and it will only help him since Lance knows all his weakness or some shit… Anyway, Lance is leaving today, so we had one last fun goodbye weekend before he left.”
Wow, speechless… Yep, speechless is the right word for what is happening to me. Surprisingly, I feel exactly the same as before Courtney told me. Maybe I’m just too broken to know the difference, though. Even if I hadn’t been the person Reed called on, at least he asked for help from someone he trusts, someone I know will look out for him and only have his best interest at heart.
Before I have a chance to think about anything else, I blurt out, “I want to see him fight.”
Courtney’s face says it all. She thinks I’ve lost it. “Girl, I don’t know if—”
Raising my hand to her face, I cut her off before she has time to even finish. “I don’t care. I’m not breaking a promise to him. I have to watch every fight. That’s what I swore to him before his last one.” I leave out my irrational and uncontrollable fear that if I break this promise to him, Reed will break his to me and never come back to me. And there it is, that tiny piece I yearn for.
Four days later, Courtney and I are laying on the bed I once shared with Reed, looking at the screen on my laptop, and watching Reed’s fight. He knocked the guy out in thirty-two seconds, smashing every MMPL record in the process. They raise his left arm, and I notice a new tattoo, shattering my heart a little more. Right in the center of his chest are two sparrows almost identical to mine, except they fly toward each other. The words, “love madly,” are beautifully written between them. As they drop his arm, he hits the spot over the birds twice.
Fighting to Start Page 4
