Disbelief surged into righteous anger. Not this shit again.
Me: We R not getting an annulment
I waited for the blinking icon and her response, but two minutes later, there was nothing.
Me: Don’t do anything until I get back and we can talk about all of this
Nothing.
Me: I’ll be back in five days
Me: We’ll talk and we can decide what to do
Silence.
God damn. This girl made me insane. Is this what it was like to love someone? She was ripping my heart out of my chest, and the crazy thing was, I didn’t care. As long as she was the one holding my heart, I didn’t care what she did with it. I knew if I was there in person, I could explain my side of the story about the article. I could make her understand that everything was taken out of context and that I was just trying to protect her. I’d be able to calm her down over the pregnancy test and make her understand that whatever was happening, we’d go through it together.
I attempted to write out a response a couple of times, but nothing seemed like the right thing to say. Putting things right was too hard over text, she couldn’t hear the truth in my voice or see the expression on my face that would prove to her how much she meant to me.
I decided to try to call. The phone rang exactly one time and then went to voicemail.
Fuck. She just blocked me.
My initial thought was to get the first plane back to Maryland so that I could see her face-to-face and talk some sense into her.
Huck was right. Harlow was a problem because I was only too willing to leave my responsibilities and risk everything for her. And I would. If there was even a chance at a happily ever after for Harlow and me, I didn’t care about anything else.
I decided to text her one more time, hoping she’d see it when she got done with her doctor’s appointment.
Me: We’re in this together
Me: Call me after you see the doctor
Me: I’ll be home in five days and we can decide what to do
Me: Unless U want me to come back sooner
There was nothing I could do from 3,000 miles away but wait for her to respond.
***
Dallas was awake when I got back to his room. He’d changed a bit since the last time I’d seen him over the summer, but he still looked the same for the most part. He’d gained a little weight from the medication they had him on, but he looked healthy. If it wasn’t for the hospital gown and the machines that were hooked up to him, I never could have guessed the hell his body was putting him through.
“What are you doing here?” Dallas’ mouth stumbled over the words, and we both pretended not to notice.
I dropped onto the couch next to Abby. “Visiting.”
He reached down to adjust the sheet over his lap while he avoided looking at me. “I’d rather you come see my show, not…this.” He gestured to himself and the machines around him, his movements as graceful as when he was playing his cello. At least the tumor hadn’t stolen that yet.
But it would. Eventually.
“I was worried. And I didn’t want Abby to have to come alone,” I added when his mouth flattened in displeasure.
He sighed. “You can’t come running every time my body goes on the fritz. It’s just going to happen more often until I decide to put an end to it.”
“Dallas…” I hated when he talked about his death. He had a deadline, we all knew it, but knowing it and talking about it were two different things. And Dallas had no problem talking about it.
“Cut the sad shit, will ya?” He focused on his lap as he picked at his thumbnail. “I already feel guilty that Austin sacrificed his happiness for mine. I don’t need the rest of you putting your lives on hold because I’ve had a few hiccups.” He looked up from his lap to meet my gaze. “I wish I had more time than what the doctors have given me, but I know that I’m lucky to have already achieved my dreams. Some people never get that chance. You have that chance, asshole, so I don’t know what you’re doing here watching me sleep all day like some kind of creeper.”
Dallas might have been raised with Aunt Chantel shoving classical music and etiquette lessons down his throat, but what came out of him was always the opposite. He wasn’t the gentle, sweet, sad, dying guy. He was the guy who took the bull by the horns, set it on fire, and then rode it off a cliff while enjoying every minute of it.
“Life is short, dude,” Dallas said. “Don’t waste a single minute.” When I met his gaze he added, “And for God’s sake, win a god damn race already. I’m sick of reading stories about your torn ACL.”
I laughed. “Working on it.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Well? Mammoth Mountain isn’t going to carve itself. Get your ass out of here.” He nodded to the door.
I stood up, and he put his fist out for me to bump.
“And don’t come back unless you’ve got a medal or the girl.”
I turned and glared at Abby. “I thought you said you were putting it in the vault?”
She shrugged and then grinned like the Cheshire Cat. “I did. I just never said how long I’d keep it there.”
On my way out, I went to give her a hug goodbye, but then twisted her into a headlock to give her a noogie instead. She screeched and giggled as I worked her hair into a knotty mess. “That’s the last time I confide in you, Blabby Abby.”
She screeched louder, and Dallas couldn’t hold back a grin.
“I’m sorry!” she apologized breathlessly between giggles. I finally let her go, and she leaned in to give me a hug. “Thanks for coming with me. You’re a good guy, Trace.”
Yeah. When I wasn’t making epic mistakes with Harlow.
I gave my cousins another round of hugs and then left the hospital, waiting for Harlow’s call as I headed back to Mammoth. Maybe I should just pack up my shit and head straight back to Maryland. All I needed was a yes from her, and I’d be on my way.
In a way, it felt like the next interaction with Harlow would be the defining moment of my future.
— HARLOW —
26. NAKED I CAME
November 19, 2016
CORRECTION By Harlow Ransom
In our last article, we reported that Harlow Ransom admitted that she liked having Trace in her life. Due to recent events, she has retracted that statement. Our apologies for any confusion.
=========================
I peed in a cup and was presented with another positive pregnancy test. Which led to my present predicament of wearing nothing but a paper gown in a room with white machines, flickering computer screens, and a technician who was so sweet she made my teeth hurt.
“Just relax, Ms. Ransom. This won’t take long.”
At the technician’s urging, I leaned back against the table and the paper crinkled underneath me as I attempted to get my heels into the stirrups at the end of the bed. She was holding what she called a “wand,” but it looked like a really boring version of Buzz. She covered it in gel, held onto my knee, and then stuck it right up in there. As in straight to the heart of the land of pie. I knew I shouldn’t feel violated, especially with how kinky my sex life was at times, but I kind of did.
She moved the wand around a little and then she said, “According to your last menstruation, you should be about seven weeks along.”
Seven weeks? I felt my future crumbling like a broken mirror—reflecting all of my mistakes back at me in jagged pieces.
I met her gaze, and she was looking at me with a strained smile on her face, which was understandable. She worked in a campus health clinic. A baby was the last thing I, or any college student, needed.
Her eyes flicked between me and the screen, her expression tight. “I’m just going to take a few measurements and then let you speak with the doctor, okay?” Her tone had gone very gentle, which worried me. Her fingers danced across the keyboard as she moved the wand a little.
“Is something wrong?” Aside from the fact that I’m 21 and pregnant? How was I going to t
ell my father about this? He was going to be so disappointed. Would I even be able to graduate?
She looked at me nervously. “I’m just a technician. The doctor will discuss the results and your options with you.”
The results. As in the fact that I was pregnant. And what I could do about that. My options.
Options? There were none. Not as far as I was concerned. I would have it. I may not have planned on a baby, and I certainly wasn’t ready to be a mother, but it was too late to change that.
The technician finished her work, instructed me to get dressed, and told me to head down the hallway to the second door on the right when I was done.
As I stripped off the paper gown and pulled my clothes on, I ran my hand over my stomach. I felt something inside my chest flicker. I wasn’t sure if it was fear or awe or anger. All I recognized was an overwhelming need to not make any more mistakes. I had done this to myself. With a guy who made it publicly clear that he had no intention of being tied down. To be honest, as angry as I was with Trace, I wasn’t vindictive enough to let my decision to keep the baby effect his future too. We’d go our separate ways, and I’d figure it out on my own.
I reached up to cover my mouth, and I felt the tears sliding down my face.
Everything had changed.
My future was no longer mine anymore.
And I was scared.
I finished dressing in a daze, and then walked down the hallway. I found the correct door for Dr. Kinley and she ushered me in when I knocked.
“Have a seat,” she said gently.
I sat down carefully, the truth of my situation making me very aware of every movement. And then suddenly my mind was spiraling through memories of paintball…and all of the times I’d clumsily fallen over my cat…and how many alcoholic drinks I’d had. Had I already ruined this baby’s life without even giving it a chance?
“Ms. Ransom,” Dr. Kinley said, pulling my attention to her. She gave me a sad look and then said, “I’m sorry to tell you that you’ve miscarried.”
“What?” Shock made my mind go blank. I just found out I was pregnant.
She gestured to some printouts in front of her that looked like just a bunch of grayish blurs. “The results of your ultrasound determined that you were around seven weeks along, but that the fetus has no heartbeat.”
No heartbeat? “I-I don’t understand. The pregnancy test came out positive.” I reached up to touch my chest where that flickering had turned into tight pain. How could I be heartbroken over something I didn’t want? How could there be no heartbeat? “Did I do something wrong?”
Dr. Kinley shook her head. “It’s not your fault. This is very common early on in pregnancy. Often it’s a genetic anomaly, a situation where it’s best the pregnancy didn’t continue because things just weren’t right.” She bit her bottom lip. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t meant to be.”
It wasn’t meant to be. Just like Trace and me.
“In any case,” she continued. “You shouldn’t blame yourself. So much has to go right to create a healthy child. This is nature’s way of…” She trailed off as if she couldn’t bear to say the words.
What didn’t she want to say? That it was nature’s way of sparing the world of imperfection? Or perhaps it was nature’s way of keeping me from making the same mistakes as my mother.
The doctor’s eyes crinkled as she gave me a kind smile. “I’m very sorry. I know this is difficult to understand, but it’s for the best. At this point, you have two options. You can wait until things take their natural course and the fetus passes, or you can choose to get a D&C.”
I was numb as she explained my choices in detail. I was vaguely aware of making an appointment for a D&C that could be done the next day so that I wouldn’t miss any of my midterms the following week. I felt like a coward for choosing that route rather than the course of nature, but I was barely keeping myself in one piece as it was. I didn’t think I could handle the possibility of going through labor and giving birth to my miscarriage. I just…couldn’t.
I always thought I was strong, but at that moment, I realized I was just scared.
As I walked out of the clinic and headed for my apartment, I pulled out my phone and typed a list into my notes.
1. Ask Flex to take me to appointment for D&C
2. Tell Betty I need tomorrow off
3. Research D&C
4. Study for midterms
5. Feed Couch Cat
6. Tell Trace
***
Flex took me to my appointment the next day. They put me to sleep, and after I woke up, I felt no pain, except for the one in my heart. Strange how such a life changing possibility can be so fleeting and still leave such an impact.
My entire life was in upheaval, but one thing was certain. More than ever, I was ready to face whatever the future had in store for me.
By myself.
That was the only way I could survive with my heart intact.
I looked down at my stomach, and my hand automatically fluttered to cover it.
The idea that I had been pregnant had been terrifying, but now that I knew I wasn’t, I felt more alone than ever. Which was absurd. My head was a whirlwind of confusion. I didn’t want the responsibility of a baby, but the knowledge that a tiny life had died inside me was heartbreaking all the same. What was wrong with me?
My mouth hardened into a defiant frown. I might not know what I wanted my future to be anymore, but I knew one thing for certain.
I definitely didn’t want a husband.
Flex offered to stay with me after he dropped me off at home, but I didn’t need his help. Besides, I had to tell Trace. He deserved to know that he didn’t need to feel any obligation to me.
I sat down on my couch, the silence of my apartment heavy around me as I pulled out my phone.
Me: It’s done.
I stared at the phone cradled in my hand as I waited for him to respond. I felt empty.
Trace: What’s done?
My fingers were slow as they tapped across the screen.
Me: I’m not pregnant anymore.
Trace: What do U mean?
Me: The baby is gone.
A full five minutes went by before the typing icon began to flash and I tried to imagine how Trace was reacting, what he must be thinking. I was fully aware that I was misleading him, but I also knew it was the only way for both of us to move on. There was no future for us together. He was going to be traveling and competing, and I was going to…
Suddenly the dreams I thought I wanted didn’t seem to have the same shine they used to. I was so focused on the chance to report the news and lives of other people, that I hadn’t bothered to make my life more than just a shallow puddle of experiences.
But did I want more than that?
Not if it hurt this much.
Trace: I thought we were going to decide what to do together
Me: I never said that. Nothing else has changed. I just wanted you to know you don’t have any obligations to me. I’m not pregnant anymore.
My phone was silent for so long I wasn’t sure he was going to respond. Finally, one word popped up with a cheery ding.
Trace: Congratulations
— HARLOW —
27. PERFECT HARLOW IS NOT SO PERFECT
November 22, 2016
BROKEN HEART AND GUILT TRIP TOUR By Harlow Ransom
Harlow Ransom put the final nail in the coffin of her marriage and is heading out on the Broken Heart and Guilt Trip Tour. Anyone hoping to see her show won’t have to look too far. You can find her emotionally crushed, sitting with an empty seat next to her in Sex Ed class, wallowing in guilt at the Dairy, acting hopelessly useless at the Diamondback, or watching sappy movies and eating ice cream by the bucketful at her apartment. The show is free and likely to run for quite some time.
=========================
He’d listened. I think deep down I hadn’t expected him to. Maybe hadn’t even wanted him to, but Trace listened and hadn’t
contacted me since the day I told him I wasn’t pregnant anymore. Sure, there was that photo he sent me from one of his family reunions, but that’s it. It had a post-it note on it saying that the girl in the images from the article was really his cousin, Abby Stone.
After getting his letter, I Googled her name and tons of images came up with her and two guys named Dallas and Austin Stone, who were apparently her brothers and also cousins of Trace. Austin and Dallas lived in Vegas, which made Abby’s appearance with Trace in Sin City less scandalous.
The thing was, even if Abby was his cousin, that still didn’t explain the girl he’d been kissing in the other photo. Or the things he’d said in the article. Or the fact that we had the power to totally destroy each other’s dreams. A drunken marriage, an accidental pregnancy, loss of that pregnancy, a lack of trust…those were things that neither of us needed. Separately, we had a chance to succeed. Together, we’d only hold each other back. And I wasn’t going to do that to Trace or myself. Not now that I knew who he really was and that he had a legitimate chance at the X-Games and maybe even the Olympics.
At least that’s what I told myself…that I was saving him from our tendency to make massive mistakes together. In reality, I was saving myself because there was a huge part of me that feared I might never be able to pick up the pieces if he chose to walk away from me. And so I forced him to.
I hated myself because if I was completely honest, I was both relieved and heartbroken that I wasn’t pregnant, and I didn’t know how to reconcile the two. I wasn’t ready to have a baby in my life, but at the same time, I felt like a failure. Like I lost a vital part of myself. A part I didn’t want to need.
***
Willow was calling. Again. If I didn’t pick up soon, she’d probably show up on my doorstep. Better to take the phone call.
“Hey Willow,” I answered, forcing happiness into my voice.
“Don’t answer the phone like you haven’t been avoiding my calls for three days straight,” she snapped.
Hitched (Hearts of Stone Book 2) Page 26
