I try to find reasons as to why I’m in unbearable pain, why I feel like my insides are on fire, because the truth isn’t something I want to accept.
Why is this happening to me? It’s not fair or right. It feels like I was given a puzzle, only to have pieces missing. Why hand me such a beautiful gift, then take it away like this, so cruelly?
It’s not fair.
The door, which was only shut to, opens suddenly. Willow rushes in wearing one of Cole’s T-shirts that reaches her knees, with a pair of leggings. She’s next to me and CJ in seconds, tears already falling down her face.
“I’m so sorry, Allie. I’m so sorry.”
I shake my head at her. It’s small, but it’s all I can manage. “Everything’s fine.”
She glances up at CJ, and they share a look. I turn away. I can’t bear to see the pity on her face.
“The paramedics are here,” Cole whispers.
“Make it stop,” I cry, clinging to CJ’s hand.
CJ runs his hand over my head, watching the door for the paramedics. It’s not long before they’re filing into the room.
It’s a blur of activity as CJ lifts me onto a gurney and the paramedics load me into the ambulance.
The whole way to the hospital I concentrate on the sound of the sirens and the flashes of blue lights. I try to ignore the pain, feeling so lost and confused the whole way there.
*** *** ***
I’m sorry, you’ve lost your baby.
You’ve lost your baby.
Those are the words that have been repeating in my head ever since the doctors announced what I already knew but didn’t want to believe.
My baby is gone.
Just gone.
There isn’t a body, a foetus… Just gone.
I don’t even know if our baby was a boy or a girl. It doesn’t seem right that they don’t have a name, something for me to call them.
“Cupcake, your dad’s here with my mum,” CJ croaks out, his eyes red and watery. “Do you want me to let them in, or would you like more time alone?”
I asked for Willow and Cole to stay outside. I couldn’t bear to watch them grieve when I couldn’t make sense of why this had happened to me.
Not seven hours ago, I was fine. We had a night of fun with our friends and were happy. We had planned for our future. We went to bed smiling, excited for what the next nine months would bring us and so on.
We were happy.
Now, we’re torn apart, too lost in our grief to even think about tomorrow.
“Let them in. My dad will kick off if he doesn’t get to see if I’m okay,” I tell him softly.
He cups my cheek. “I think your dad will understand if you need more time.”
My eyes water. I didn’t think I had any more tears left, I’ve cried so much. “It’s fine. Tell Willow and Cole they can come in after. They need to go home and rest.”
Worry lines mar his forehead. “Okay, I won’t be long. They’re just in the hall.”
He leaves the room quietly—he’s done everything quietly, too scared to make a sound. I might not want to see anyone right now, but CJ needs support. I’ve got him here, but he doesn’t have anyone. Watching him break is something I never want to see again.
My dad and Milly come walking in. They force a smile, moving to either side of my bed. CJ stays at the bottom, his hand resting on my blanket, over my feet.
“Are you okay, sweetie?”
I look up to my dad, and the sadness and grief in his eyes undoes me once again, and I burst into tears.
“I lost our baby, Dad. My baby.”
“I know, darlin’. I know. It might not seem like it right now, but it will get better. I promise.”
“What did I do wrong?” I ask, my voice tortured.
Milly places her hand over my bicep, mindful of all the tubes and wires.
“You did nothing, sweetheart. Nothing whatsoever. It’s a tragic thing, but this happens. No one knows why or how, but it does.”
My dad moves aside to let CJ stand next to me. I watch him pinch the bridge of his nose to stop himself from crying.
I wipe my tears, blinking up at CJ. It’s the first time I’ve really spoken about it. A part of me was still in denial.
“How can I miss someone I never even got to meet, so much?” I ask him, my throat raw.
Tears fall from CJ’s eyes as he takes my hand in his. “Because they were a part of you and me. Because you have a huge heart. We will get through this, Allie. She or he may never have taken a breath, but they will never be forgotten. They will always be in our hearts.”
“They don’t even have a name, CJ,” I sob out, clutching my chest. “We didn’t get to see their face, hear them laugh, or hear them cry. We don’t even know if they were a boy or a girl.”
“Shh, the doctor said to stay calm, it’s not good for your blood pressure.”
I still cry, clutching at my chest, over my heart, where it hurts. “We lost our baby.”
He nods, a flood of tears falling freely down his cheeks. He doesn’t even bother to hide them as he holds my hand tighter. “We did, and we could have lost you.” He pauses, running a hand over his tired, worn face. When he looks at me again, the sadness in his eyes is overwhelming. He looks tormented and devastated. “How about we pick a name suitable for a girl or a boy. We can have a stone put in next my great-grandparent’s graves. That way, we have a place to visit, to remember them by.”
The idea makes me love him more. For him to give us a place to visit, to grieve even though there isn’t a body, means everything to me.
“It’s a great idea. I’ll call first thing tomorrow,” his mum says softly, stroking my hair.
“What time is it?” I croak out.
“It’s five in the morning, darlin’,” Dad tells me, rubbing my shin.
The door to my room opens and the doctor who examined me earlier steps inside. The expression on his face is unreadable, but the last time we saw him, he said he’d have another doctor check on me later.
Something is wrong.
I share a worried and concerned look with CJ but face the man standing at the end of my bed, his hands resting on the bars.
“We have the results from your bloodwork. Can we have a minute to talk privately?” he asks.
My eye flick through everyone in the room, before facing him and shaking my head. “These are our parents; they can stay.”
“As you wish,” he says gently, before inhaling deeply and lifting the chart from under his arm. “As you know we ran some tests earlier as procedure. We found large amounts of methotrexate, also known as amethopterin, and misoprostol in your system.”
I’m genuinely confused, and I’m not the only one as CJ gives him a puzzled look. “What’s that?” CJ asks, rubbing his thumb over the palm of my hand.
I notice the doctor grimace, before he recovers. “Methotrexate taken on its own isn’t considerably dangerous. However, taken with misoprostol… it causes miscarriage. It’s what doctors use to induce abortion.”
“What?” I breathe out, feeling faint. “How? I’ve not taken any tablets. I didn’t kill my baby!”
“How would someone even get their hands on this stuff if it’s used for abortion?” Milly asks, a hard tone in her voice.
“Misoprostol is also used for the prevention of gastric ulcers, and methotrexate is common. It’s a chemotology agent and immune system suppressant. Sadly, I can’t tell you how you digested it, only that it’s in your system.”
“Somebody had to have given this to me. We only told our friends and parents last night.” I gasp, turning to CJ in horror. “Oh, my God.”
“What, Cupcake?” he asks, sitting forward in his chair.
I struggle to breathe, and the monitors next to me start going crazy. The doctor rushes over, sitting me forward. “Breathe in and out, nice big, deep breaths. You’re having a panic attack.”
I breath in and out like he ordered, my head bent but turned to CJ.
“
Mr. Flint. Knew,” I pant out, closing my eyes tight.
I breathe, trying to calm myself. One, two, three, in and out.
“You aren’t making sense, Cupcake.”
I sit up, still panting as I face him. Tears fall, and I can barely see through them as I tell him, “When I was at the library the other night, Tina asked me to unload the new textbooks from the back. I knew you didn’t want me lifting anything heavy, so I had to ask Alex to help—I had to tell him about the baby. Mr. Flint overheard us.”
But he didn’t give me anything that day.
My eyes shoot open and I turn to the doctor. “My teacher! He gave me a bottle of water yesterday. Could they have been in that?”
He eyebrows draw together, but he nods slowly. “Yes, I suppose.”
“Why would Mr. Flint want to kill our baby?” CJ asks, and me keeping secrets from him has finally caught up to me.
I turn to the doctor, feeling numb. This is all my fault. “Can we have a minute?”
He nods. “If you need anything, press the button next you and a nurse will be right in. Again, I’m sorry for your loss.”
Once he’s gone, the room is quiet, until Milly speaks up. “Would you like us to give you some privacy?”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Dad grits out. “I want to know why this sick son of a bitch killed my grandbaby.”
I wipe my tears, turning to CJ. I can barely look at him. “Mr. Flint creeps me out. He’s touchy-feely with me, always leaning in too close, touching my leg and making me uncomfortable,” I blurt out. When CJ shoots out of his chair, banging it into the wall behind him, I stop, reaching out for him. “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you, but I thought I was being paranoid. I didn’t want to cause a scene if it was nothing.”
“That doesn’t sound like nothing, sweetheart,” Milly says, rubbing my shoulder.
I meet her eyes. “I didn’t think he’d do this. I didn’t know—I didn’t. I was going to go to the schoolboard if it happened again.”
“Shh, this isn’t your fault. But the police need to be informed.”
I nod, wiping angrily at my tears. From the corner of my eye, I can see CJ breathing heavily, his hands clenched into fists at his side.
“I’m going to kill him,” he growls, before storming out.
“CJ, no. Please, wait!” I yell through tears. I grab the clips on my chest, the ones monitoring my heart, and rip them off. Milly’s hands immediately stop me, pinning them to my chest.
“You need to stop before you hurt yourself.”
“I have to stop him,” I tell her, pleading.
She looks to the door, seeming torn, before she turns to my father. I meet his eyes, seeing the same rage I saw in CJ’s moments ago.
“Dad, please stop him. I can’t lose him, too. I can’t.”
He gives me a sharp nod but doesn’t make eye contact with me. “I’ll go see where he is. Hopefully Cole is still out there and can help me.”
I quickly grab his hand before he goes, stopping him. “Please tell him I’m sorry. I’m so, so, so sorry.”
He leans in, kissing my forehead hard before pulling back and staring into my eyes. “This is not your fault. I’ll call the police while I’m out there. This is a crime. Now rest; you need some sleep.”
I nod, falling back onto my pillow, but the fear swimming through my veins won’t let me relax, because it doesn’t matter who gave me those pills; I could have prevented it, just like I could have prevented the rapes.
It seems all I’m good for is getting people hurt.
I numb myself, not wanting to let anything in right now. Not when I’m responsible for so much grief.
I wouldn’t blame CJ if he can’t forgive me.
I’ll never be able to forgive myself.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
It’s been days since we lost our baby. Days of mourning and regret. Mourning for the child we will never get to hold, to watch open their eyes for the first time and take their first breath. Regret for not protecting our child better, for not reporting Mr. Flint when I should have.
I’ve been in a zombie-like state, not really knowing who’s been coming or going, or when. I’ve tried to keep up with what’s going on, but the atmosphere in our flat has been tense, everyone walking around on eggshells.
Ever since we got an update from the police officer in charge of our case, I’ve locked myself away in my room. I can’t bear to be around everyone and endure their sorrow and pity. I just want to mourn my baby, my loss. I want the unbearable pain inside me to go away. I want my heart to stop aching and the pain in my chest to go.
It hasn’t helped that when the police officer in charge reported back, they had nothing but bad news. They tried contacting Mr. Flint to get his statement, but they’ve not managed to locate him. When I told them that was impossible, he had classes to teach, they informed me he had been suspended from the university for gross misconduct.
The anger I felt when he told us he couldn’t be found is something I’d never experienced. I wanted revenge. I wanted him to hurt the way he hurt me. I wanted him to suffer.
He shouldn’t be able to get away with this. Our baby may not have taken their first breath, but they were a living human being growing inside me. He took that away.
If there was any doubt he was innocent, Mr. Flint going missing the night we were in the hospital drove that away. It’s just made him look guiltier.
He was meant to be in his classroom, teaching an early morning class, but when Cole, CJ and Dad got there, there was another teacher substituting.
From what my dad said, he had had found CJ and Cole waiting for a taxi outside the hospital, looking ready to tear the world apart. How they managed it, I don’t know, but they got him to calm down enough to find an all-night café near the university. By the time the sun rose, and early morning classes were about begin, CJ had excused himself to go to the toilet. Dad hadn’t realised he had snuck out the back until it was too late. But it was pointless, because, Mr. Flint wasn’t even there.
I reckon if he knew Mr. Flint’s address, he would have turned up there. I’m grateful he wasn’t in the classroom though. As much as I want him to pay for what he’s done, I don’t want to lose CJ in the process.
I wasn’t given details about it, but Cole did say CJ had broken down outside the English department. It’s why it had taken them so long to get back to the hospital that day.
I think that time apart was good for me, in a way, because the second he walked through the door, my brave façade crumbled, and I told him everything I was feeling. I told him how sorry I was, and how he had every right to blame me. I let everything I had stored over the hours he was gone, explode.
He assured me there was nothing to be sorry for, that I didn’t do this, but it’s hard to believe something when that guilt is eating away at you from the inside.
I’ll never get over losing my baby. I’ll always remember and love them. Nothing can ever change that. I just wish I’d had a chance to hold them, to tell them I loved them and would do anything for them.
But that chance was taken away from me.
Cruelly.
There have been moments where I wonder how life can go on. How do I pretend that everything is okay, when it’s not? How can I move on, when a few days ago, I was planning on becoming a mother? It feels selfish and wrong. Sometimes it feels like I’m betraying our child by moving on without them. And I never want them to think they’re being replaced.
Today is the first time CJ hasn’t been with me, catering to my every need, and I miss him terribly. He’s the only thing that is keeping me together right now. Without him, I don’t know what I’d do.
He’s been great and supportive, but I can see the grief in his eyes every time he looks at me. He’s trying to act brave, like he’s getting through this, but I can see through it all. Deep down he’s dying inside, just like me.
He left rather quickly this morning when he got a text message off Cole, and I haven’t h
eard from him since then. He grabbed his bag and laptop, kissed me goodbye, then left.
A light tap on the door shakes me from my thoughts. “Come in,” I shout, turning down the volume on my television.
Willow pops her head in first. “Want some company?”
I look around my empty room, feeling alone without CJ, and nod. “You’re late back. Is everything okay?”
She looks hesitant as she sits down next to me on the bed. She faces me, inhaling deeply. “Has Jordan told you about her new friend, Emma?”
The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end and I grip my sheets tightly in my fist.
“Yes, why?”
“Jordan and I went to meet up with her. There’s been rumours around the university that she reported Mr. Flint when he cornered her in his office and assaulted her.”
“What?” I yell, feeling my blood boil at hearing his name and what he has done.
She nods solemnly. “Yeah, my feelings exactly.”
“What did she say? Is she okay? What did he do?”
“That’s the thing; she wouldn’t see us. Her cousin, or brother, or whoever he is, said she didn’t want to see anyone at the moment. He did say she has a few bruises, and a broken wrist, but she managed to stop him from going further. The one I think is her boyfriend, he said it could have been a lot worse.”
“I’ve never met her, but I’ve seen her. She’s tiny and looks so fragile,” I whisper, staring at my sock-covered feet. “Why do I keep doing this to people, Low?”
I feel her eyes on me, but I can’t look at her. Not right now.
“Do what?” she asks, her tone concerned.
I steel myself and turn to her, watching as she flinches away from my expression.
“Cause them pain. Curse them. I had a chance to right a wrong, to avoid further incidents, but I didn’t. I just sat back and ignored what my mind and body was telling me to do. I did it because I’m weak, because I’m scared of what the consequences will be if I’m right, and worse, if I’m wrong,” I tell her, flicking my eyes away. “If she was attacked by Mr. Flint, then it’s because I didn’t report him in the first place. And I should have done it the first time he made me uncomfortable. I just kept thinking, what if it’s just me, what if I’m reading it wrong and what’s happening is harmless? I would have gotten an innocent man fired for nothing. But my intuition was right—I was right, and someone else got hurt because I didn’t listen. It’s a repeating pattern when it comes to me.” I laugh, but there’s no humour in it.
Game Over (Whithall University Book 2) Page 23
