Of course I have. I take my pill with my coffee every morning; the same time I take my happy pill.
Except for the morning after our first fight.
I remember I couldn’t keep down a mouthful of anything, I was so hung-over.
I haven’t had my period. I was due to get it the weekend I moved into the apartment – I just forgot.
You forgot? Stupid, stupid girl.
Then the phone rings. I pull myself up and scamper out to the hallway. The house is so quiet.
I hope it’s Hannah. It’s been a few days since we’ve spoken. Her mum’s cancer isn’t curable, so when we speak on the phone it’s with sadness and long silent moments. I’m not looking forward to telling her about Valentine and I; she has enough to deal with.
‘Hello?’
‘Princess, it’s me.’
‘Oh.’ I slump onto the hallstand seat. This is all too much.
‘Sarah told me that you were staying with your family,’ he says, and his voice is shaking.
‘I just needed to get away.’
‘From me?’ he asks.
My heart is doe-eyed.
‘No, not you...’
‘Then can I see you?’
My heart jumps up screaming, Yes! Yes! Of course you can!
My intuition is in a mad panic.
‘I don’t know,’ is all I can manage to say. I don’t know. It’s the truth. I want to – God, I want to – but I have to listen to my intuition – finally. I have to protect my fragile and mentally unstable heart.
‘I know your parents don’t approve of me. And I have been selfish, but I can’t cope without you. It’s so cold and dark here without you,’ he said softly. ‘Please, Princess.’
That’s it – just two simple words – and I’m his.
‘When?’
‘Now, I’ll come and get you—’
‘No,’ I interrupt. ‘I don’t want Mum to know – she’ll worry,’ I add, my heart racing. Why do I feel like a schoolgirl, passing notes in class?
‘Okay, I understand – then catch the train down and I’ll wait at Lathlain station. I’ll wait there all day, so come when you’re ready.’
‘Okay,’ I say.
‘I love you,’ he says.
‘I love you – infinity,’ I reply.
Chapter 9
I’m not happy about lying to Mum, but I have to see him. I tell her I’m going to the zoo with Sarah. It’s rare to get sunshine in Perth during August, but it looks to be a perfect day, so I put on jeans, a cotton blouse, cardigan and sandals.
As I step off the train and look around for Valentine, I spot him waiting in the car park. He looks like an Oakley model, standing against the bike with his sunglasses on. My senses tingle at the memory of the Adonis under those clothes. I want to run to him, but I won’t. Taking steady steps and trying to keep my composure, I make my way over to him.
He closes the gap between us, taking off his sunglasses and wrapping me in his arms without saying a word. We stand in this embrace for a while.
‘I love you,’ he breathes against my neck, brushing his lips along my jaw line.
I allow myself to succumb to his tenderness and close my eyes. ‘I love you – infinity,’ I murmur.
‘Let’s go home, Princess.’
When we get back to Valentine’s house, my heart sinks a little. It’s cold inside. It’s clean and tidy, but he has the blinds closed and there’s no warmth at all.
‘Come and sit with me,’ he pulls me over to the couch and down onto his lap, holding me close. He’s warm. ‘I need you to come home,’ he says softly, but dominantly. ‘Do you feel how cold it is in here without you?’
Tears fill my eyes.
‘Will you come home?’
‘I am home, with my family,’ I reply, trying to get the words past the lump in my throat.
‘You belong here with me.’
‘No, I don’t.’
‘Why do you say that? Don’t you understand how much I love you? Nothing is more precious to me than you.’
‘I’m not a silly teenager. I know that love isn’t always enough.’
He sighs. His arms wrap around me tightly. I really wish love was enough. His hands are soft and warm against my shoulders and neck. I start to lose myself in his kisses and feel that familiar inebriated sensation. He tightens his embrace and I push him away.
‘Why are you doubting me, Princess?’
‘Because you have a family.’
‘Yes, I do, and so do you.’ He sinks back into the couch so there’s space between us, but I can still feel the electricity.
‘I mean Tyler and Jacquie.’ I have to breathe.
‘Jacquie and I are divorced, and I want you to be a part of my family.’ He sits forward again and rests his chin on my shoulder. ‘How can I make you see how much I love you? How you’ve changed me and how you’ve given me a new life?’
Silence fills the air. My hands are shaking.
‘What’s wrong? Why are your hands trembling like this, Princess? You don’t need to be so worried. It’ll be alright.’
‘I have to tell you something very important.’ I stand up. I need to get some distance between us; breathe my own air.
‘Okay, so tell me.’ He’s frowning now; confused.
‘I’m pregnant.’ There, it’s out. It falls from my mouth and onto the floor beside his feet. I wait for him to pick the word up and smile at it. I wait for him to wrap it up in his arms like a baby.
‘Pregnant?’ His beautiful mouth is in a tight line.
‘Yes, about six weeks,’ I whisper.
‘Oh,’ he stands up carefully, as if he doesn’t quite know if he should kick the word lying there on the floor or gather it up.
He moves toward the window and stares out at the street.
‘What about the pill?’
‘I’ve been taking it, but when I vomited that time… I may have vomited my pill up too…’
‘It isn’t your fault, Princess. I should have been more careful.’ He gazes out of the window. He won’t look at me.
‘Well, are you okay with this?’ I finally ask.
‘Are you?’ He passes the question back.
‘Yes – yeah, I am – but I’ve had time to think.’
‘I don’t know.’
‘You don’t know what?’
‘This changes things for us.’
‘Like what? You still love me, has it changed that?’
‘No, nothing like that, that can’t change,’ he replies quickly, but he still doesn’t look at me. ‘I have a child who’s just been through an ugly divorce.’
‘I know, but as long as we’re stable and Tyler feels loved by us, it will work out.’
‘Yes, but I don’t know if I’m ready for this.’
‘I’m having a baby – your baby – a part of both of us – of our love. I’m not asking you to cut off your right arm!’ My voice is loud now.
‘Please don’t shout, Princess. I’m sorry, we’ll work this out,’ he comes to me and holds my hands, kissing them both once.
I pull my hands free. ‘No, I don’t feel like working anything out right now. I just want to go home.’ The silly teenager is showing her face now. So what? I feel the familiar trepidation of losing someone special and I have to protect my heart. Before he has the chance to leave me broken, I’m going to push him away. I let the veil of anger cover me. Protect me.
‘Please, Princess, we need to talk. Please just calm down...’
These are just words now, I don’t want to hear them, I want to curl up on my bed.
‘Take me home,’ I spit these words like sour venom. Panic sets in. The ever-constant terror of abandonment. The same terror I felt on my tenth birthday. The book, the goodbye, the crying myself to sleep when nobody was watching. The sheer dread of that person I loved, infinitely, just walking away from me. Well, I was going to walk away this time. I wasn’t going to be abandoned. ‘You can drop me at the train station. I can walk
from there.’
‘Okay,’ Valentine says softly. Polite, even when we fight.
We ride in silence. What is there to say? We’re stranded. There’s no way we’ll come out of this storm in one piece and I feel sick.
He pulls into the station and takes off his helmet. I get off the bike and hand him mine. He takes it from me without a word.
I give him one last chance to fix it. ‘So, that’s it then? That’s all you have to say – okay?’
‘What do you want me to say?’
‘Oh, nothing I guess, you’ve said enough already.’
I feel like he’s just punched me in the stomach.
It isn’t the first time someone had broken their promise to me. I guess this fault in human nature was the foundation of my need for security and my absolute skill in smiling on the outside when I didn’t receive it. It wasn’t the first time I had been left behind like discarded rubbish. And it wasn’t the first time my intuition had comforted my dying heart.
Now I was going to channel my feelings of hurt and inevitable loss and make it anger, this anger is my bulletproof vest. It will protect my heart.
The sound of the distant train horn brings me back to Valentine, and as I turn away from him, he grabs my arm.
‘I’ll call you tomorrow,’ he says.
‘Don’t bother – the baby and I come as a package deal now.’ I want to climb onto his lap and curl up in his arms. I want him to hold me and tell me we’d never be apart, but this is real life – cold, hard, real life. Instead, I turn away from him and begin my long walk home.
I think I hear him whisper, ‘I love you, Princess.’
The words, I love you – infinity, sit in my throat. I can’t say them aloud.
I’m not his Princess and this is definitely no fairy-tale.
I hear the rumble of the bike starting up and swallow the urge to call out to him. I have to get myself home. I can’t fall apart here. I walk along the path and see a phone-box. I’ll call Sam. He’ll come and get me.
Tears pour from my eyes as I make it to the phone-box. I think my heart will stop. My chest aches.
You have to stop crying, now, my intuition begs. My heart isn’t breathing. Please, you need to focus on something else, anything... food, music or a book... yes, that’s it, a book, you love to read... let’s see, what about your favourite book, Room With a View? No, that won’t do, too romantic. What about... it’s hard to think like this! My head throbs. I can’t breathe without gasping. Please, stop crying. What about The Bible? Yes, I think you need to focus on something else; yourself.
And my heart and intuition finally agree.
I needed to focus on me.
Find Abbie.
I am Abbie Bennet. Protector, survivor, day-dreamer, peace-keeper, but at this moment all I am, is weak. I lean against the glass wall of the phone-box – my legs trembling, and call Sam.
Chapter 10
‘Mum said you went to the zoo,’ Sam says, lifting his visor and handing me a spare helmet. He sounds a little annoyed that I didn’t invite him.
I put the helmet on, and as I climb onto the back of his bike, I notice Valentine parked not far from us. So, he does care. I pull the visor down and wrap my arms around Sam. He smells of leather. I feel tears choking at my throat. Don’t cry! my intuition shouts at me. Hold it together and things will be okay. I swallow hard and force my voice to work.
‘I was going with Sarah, but she didn’t show up – something must’ve happened, she’ll probably call me later.’ I hate lying, but when it comes to self-preservation, I’m pretty good at it.
‘Well, she hasn’t called that I know of. You shouldn’t be out on your own – there are a lot of crazies out there.’
I smile. He’s always so protective of us girls. He gives the bike a rev and pulls out onto the road. I wrap my arms around his waist and try to stay calm.
When I walk into the house, Mum is in the kitchen.
‘Abbie, is that you?’
‘Yeah Mum, Sarah didn’t show up, has she called?’
‘No, honey. Are you okay?’ Mum says, as she dries her hand on a tea towel and comes to give me a hug.
I may as well break the news to her. There’s no easy way of saying it.
‘Mum, I’m pregnant.’ My breath hitches.
‘I know, honey,’ she says rubbing her hands up and down my arms and giving me an “it-will-be-okay” smile. Of course, she knows. “Mums’ know everything,” I remember Valentine saying. She probably knows I didn’t have plans with Sarah either.
‘How far along are you?’
‘About five or six weeks I think.’
‘You haven’t been to the doctor’s then?’
‘Not yet, but I missed my period and I just know.’
‘And Valentine?’
‘No, Mum, he doesn’t seem to be interested...’ I can’t even finish the sentence. My heart screams at me. He is interested! You just didn’t give him a chance, because you’re so stubborn… that’s why! He didn’t say what you wanted to hear, and you pushed him away… My heart is wailing and sobbing now… completely grey.
Yes, I ran away, but Valentine didn’t follow me. I don’t see him standing at the front door.
Mum sighs. ‘It’s okay, we’ll get through this, but you’ll need to go to the doctor and have a check up and get information about your meds and…’
‘Will you come with me?’
‘We’ll get Sam to take us tomorrow. I’m sure everything is fine,’ she says, giving me a hug.
‘Okay.’
My bed is all I can think of, the only place I want to be. My poor heart is already there. Sobbing and gasping for air – completely broken. I did this.
∞~∞~∞~∞
The next few days come and go without fuss. Baby names fly around the room constantly and Valentine’s name becomes taboo.
‘So, Abbie, do you think you might like to come back to church?’ Dad asks. I notice Mum shoots him a you-need-to-give-her-time look. He clears his throat, but says no more. What can he say? No words of wisdom will fix what I’ve done.
I glance at Izzy and then down at my plate of Apricot Chicken. ‘I think that’s what got me into this mess…’
‘I think we all know what got you into this mess,’ Sam cuts in, following his comical remark with a loud chuckle.
‘I didn’t mean it that way,’ I let out a small giggle, then grab hold of my seriousness. ‘I meant if God was looking out for me, then he would never have let this happen.’ I fill my mouth quickly, in case I accidently smile at my half-witted brother.
‘God is always looking out for you Abbie,’ says Izzy, almost indignantly. ‘You have to learn to listen to him and not just jump in head first. You should be thankful.’
I observe Izzy for a minute before replying. ‘Yeah, you may be right, but I’m too angry at him right now to be thankful.’
And the conversation ends.
I hold it together – I have this talent – don’t let anyone know you are dead inside, they will just worry about you too much. I eat with my family. I go on outings with my family, but I don’t go to church. I don’t feel ready for that. Instead, I drown myself in the Bible, and when I feel like breathing is becoming too hard, I pray. I know God is listening and in my prayers, I find myself saying “where were you!” quite a lot.
Mum accompanies me to my doctor’s appointment, and the Doctor refers me back to my Psychiatrist; it’s been months since I’ve been to an appointment and I’m extremely nervous. We talk about Valentine, I cry a lot and she listens. Advice to practice breathing exercises and get as much filtered sunlight as possible is discussed; but most of it is a blur. My happy pills are probably not good for pregnancy, with no firm statistics saying otherwise, so I agree to stop taking them. All emphasis is now on maintaining my well-being using natural methods.
I’m acutely aware of the loud buzz of ugliness and banality of the world revolving around mine, and it hurts. I need to balance myself. I fi
nd retreating into the garden helps. I can sit for hours in the garden and turn off that fuzzy radio station of life. I watch the birds, the spiders and ants. I read Daily Guidance from Your Angels, The Earth Has a Soul: C. Jung on Nature, and of course my Bible (no romance novels for me). When it rains, and it hardly does now, I take a blanket and sit under the patio – I’m a winter baby, this is my kind of weather. The rain reminds me that time hasn’t moved too quickly. I still have time to heal my broken heart.
∞~∞~∞~∞
This September morning, my hands are on my face and I am curled up in a foetal position. It’s been forty-three days. Day forty-four is here. I sit up and wipe the tears away. I wonder, when will the day come where I can face it without tears? I think about him. I would do it all over again, if I had to. The avalanche of romance that crushed me. Stupid girl.
I climb out of bed and untangle him from my self. It’s a ritual. I’m going to face church today. I’m helping Mum and the girls in the tearoom after the service. It’s time to turn that radio back on. I push my hair back from my face and put on my dressing gown. My hand automatically goes to my belly a lot now. I can feel a small baby bump. I sigh. I know there’s a little girl in there. And she’s going to be far too stubborn, sensitive and strong. She’ll be just like me, with some of Valentine’s spice; just enough to create her own identity.
It’s time to get ready for church. The bathroom is empty, so I make an attempt to clean off some of my heartache in the shower and put on my mask. I’ll make an effort to listen to the same radio station as everyone else today. I know it’ll be exhausting. Now that grief has found me, I find it almost impossible. I know that the mask may slip a little, but I’ll hold it in place. Then when I get home, I can recover.
Patrick greets us in the car park at church, shaking hands with Sam and then with Dad. He says all the right things and Mum glows up at him. Izzy is whisked away from us and I watch with pleasure and pain as her knight in shining armour leads her inside.
I see Zane watching from his seat in the front row as we make our way inside and give him a small, ‘Hello’ smile. He smiles back, but turns to the front of the church when the choir starts.
Infinite Completion (The Infinity Series Book 1) Page 9
