Finally, after fifteen minutes of waiting, we were called back. Just like before, Nicole was given a gown to wear and she lay on the table, waiting for the doctor. The doctor came in a few minutes later, spread the jelly shit on Nicole’s stomach and used the heartbeat Doppler again.
I smiled at Nicole and she smiled back, my hand holding hers as we waited to hear our baby’s heartbeat again. The sound of whooshing filled my ears as the doctor moved the wand around on Nicole’s belly, trying to find the heartbeat and I listened and waited.
And waited.
And waited.
I looked towards the doctor. She was still using the wand across Nicole’s body, searching.
After a few minutes, she finally spoke. “I need to switch to a vaginal ultrasound.”
Nicole looked to me, searching for answers. I had none. This was all new to me. I didn’t even know what a vaginal ultrasound was. Concern spread across Nicole’s face and I began to become nervous. My heart was beating extremely fast, hoping to hear another heartbeat that it helped create.
Before we’d arrived, I was excited. Excited to share this experience with Nicole again. Excited to hear her heart beating again. To be one step closer to seeing her on the tiny black and white screen at the next appointment. To be one step closer to holding her in my arms.
I stared into Nicole’s eyes, holding her hand the tightest I could without hurting her. I was scared—Nicole was scared, and a few minutes later after the doctor did what she needed to do, my heart was ripped from my chest.
“I’m sorry, Nicole. I can’t find a heartbeat.”
Day One Without Our Baby
The moment I saw the blue lines appear on the pregnancy tests when I first learned that I was pregnant, I fell in love with more than just Avery. I fell in love with something that we created together—someone we created. It was instant love. It was something so beautiful, and when it was taken from me, I was left feeling empty. I was left feeling alone; like a part of me was missing and I was nothing but a hollow void.
It broke me.
It hurt me.
It drained me and everything around me turned to darkness.
“I’m sorry, Nicole. I can’t find a heartbeat,” the doctor said.
After I heard those eight words and looked into Avery’s eyes, I’d lost it. I failed him. I’d done something and I’d taken his baby away, but I didn’t know what I’d done. The doctor told us that it was common to have a miscarriage happen in the first thirteen weeks of a pregnancy—a fetal demise she called it. I ]had no bleeding, no cramping and my body thought I was still pregnant. After they’d performed their test to measure the fetus, we were told that I’d lost the baby at thirteen weeks exactly; three weeks prior.
We’d been living life—going through the motions—acting like we were going to be parents when in reality…we weren’t.
After I’d had the procedure to remove the dead fetus at the hospital, Avery drove me home. I couldn’t talk to him. What do you say to the man you love after you lost his baby?
I crawled into bed first thing when we got home and cried myself to sleep.
Day Two Without Our Baby
No matter what Avery said. No matter what Brooke wanted to say. No matter what my mother wanted to say, nothing could take away the hurt—take away the pain. A part of me was gone. A part of me that I’d grown to accept, grown to love, and had looked forward to holding in my arms—was gone.
I couldn’t get out of bed. I knew my mom came to visit, to make sure that I was okay, but I didn’t want to see anyone. The only person I allowed in my bedroom was Avery and only because it was his room too.
“I brought you some soup,” Avery said, setting a bowl on my nightstand.
“I’m not hungry,” I murmured.
“You gotta eat something, Baby.”
“I’m not hungry,” I repeated.
He brushed a few pieces of hair away from my face, tucking it behind my ear. The simple contact made me start to cry again. What else did I have to do? I’d failed Avery. My body wasn’t worthy enough to carry his baby. I wasn’t worthy enough to be his—to be his one.
With my eyes closed I felt Avery try to brush away my tears, but there were too many. Eventually he gave up, climbed into bed behind me and cried with me.
Day Three Without Our Baby
Each time I thought I was done crying, I would cry some more. I thought about how I was already thinking about baby names. How I was already thinking about how I wanted to decorate the nursery, reading a book about what to expect, staring at mothers when I saw them with their babies, smiling as I pictured Avery holding her. I was already attached to her and then just like that, she was gone.
“You want to get out of bed today?” Avery asked.
“No,” I shook my head against my pillow, not opening my eyes.
“Your mom’s still here.”
“Just tell her to go. Tell everyone to go.”
I heard voices in the living room talking about me. Talking about what to do to help me. There wasn’t anything to do. It was a sign. A sign that Avery wasn’t the one. A sign that showed me we weren’t meant to be together.
I was meant to be alone.
Alone because I couldn’t give Avery the baby he wanted.
The doctor told us that we could try again. Try in a month. But why? What was the point? I couldn’t let our hopes get up and then come crashing down again. The pain wasn’t worth it. Hurting Avery wasn’t worth it.
I spent the rest of the day in bed. Sometimes I would cry. Sometimes they were all dried up. I wasn’t even sure if I still had a job. I didn’t care. I only cared that I failed Avery and there was nothing I could do to fix it.
Day Four Without Our Baby
My back started to hurt from laying down for four days straight. I only got up to use the bathroom when I needed to. I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t really sleep and the more time passed, the more my tears weren’t comforting me either—nothing was.
Avery tried. He really did, but nothing he could do helped. He lost his baby too, but the physical pain I endured was nothing any words could cure. I felt like I was wasting away. I was. I still couldn’t eat no matter what Avery brought me.
“Brooke brought this for you,” he said walking in with a cup of frozen yogurt.
“I don’t want it.”
“Baby, you really gotta eat.”
“No,” I said, turning away from him.
I heard him groan and then the door shut. Turning over I saw that he’d left the room. I knew he was hurting too, but the more I pulled away, the better. It was better for both of us because when I left, he’d miss me less and could move on quickly.
Day Five Without Our Baby
I got out of bed on day five. I made it as far as the couch in the living room.
“Hey,” Avery said, walking over to me.
“Hey,” I replied.
“Want something to eat?”
“No.” I shook my head.
“Can I sit with you?”
I stared into his eyes, trying not to cry, trying to show him that I was okay, but I wasn’t. It was all a façade because I was just biding my time until it was the perfect time to leave. “Sure,” I whispered.
He sat, taking my feet to lay across his lap. We sat in silence staring at the TV. I watched as people moved across the screen, but I wasn’t really watching. I had no desire for entertainment.
After a few minutes, Avery finally spoke. “I have to go to Halo for at least an hour.”
“Okay.”
He didn’t know that I was waiting for him to slip out the door so I could leave. He deserved someone better. Someone who wouldn’t risk their baby by almost getting into a bar fight. Someone who was stronger than me. I thought I was strong, but nothing could prepare me for how weak I felt after losing our baby.
He got off the couch, took a quick shower and kissed me goodbye. I waited ten minutes to make sure that he wasn’t coming back right away. Then
I threw my clothes in my suitcase, wrote him a cowardly note, and took off back to Boston, watching New York fade in my rearview mirror yet again.
When Nicole told me that she was pregnant, I knew that I would love her forever. But the moment when the doctor told us that there was no longer a heartbeat, I fell more in love with Nicole. I didn’t know why, but I did. Maybe it was the way she mourned the loss of our baby, mourned the loss of something we created. Maybe it was because it left us both open and broken and the only person that could put me back together was her.
At least that was what I thought.
I stayed by Nicole’s side for five days after we received the news, and when I thought we were back on an upward roller coaster, she’d proved me wrong. I came home to an empty townhouse with a note from Nicole on the entry table where we stored our keys.
Avery,
Know that I will always love you. I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough for you.
-Nicole
I stared at the note.
She left me?
Nicole left me because she didn’t think she was strong enough for me. When truth was, she was the strongest woman I’d ever been with. She was a fighter. She was my fighter—my Laila.
I called Nicole on her cell. I knew she wouldn’t answer, but I had to try.
I was right. I couldn’t believe it was over. I watched the whole thing fall apart in front of my eyes, but I never saw the signs. I thought we’d get past this. That it was just a bump in the road. The doctor told us that miscarriages were common. It didn’t mean that Nicole wasn’t strong, it meant she was human. I thought that Nicole was just mourning the loss of our baby. I didn’t know that she was mourning the loss of us.
If I’d known, I wouldn’t have walked out the door to check on Halo. I’d thought five days was enough time. Nicole had finally gotten out of bed. I thought that she got out of bed because she was feeling better. Not because she had one foot out the door and was ready to make her escape.
Didn’t she know?
Didn’t she know that I was mourning, too?
We lost something together. Something that had slipped through our fingers. Something we were meant to go through together, not alone when we were each other’s glue. I would never leave Nicole alone to go through the loss. I loved her. Loved everything about her and if she wasn’t able to have my baby, I’d be okay with that because she was mine. She was my one.
But the darkness had won. She’d left.
I tried Nicole’s cell again—hoping, praying, needing her to come back.
She didn’t answer.
So I called Brooke.
“Hello?” she answered.
“Tell me Nicole’s with you.”
“No?”
“Fuck!” I shouted, rubbing my hand down my face.
“What’s wrong?”
“She left, B.B. Nic left me.”
“What do you mean she left you?”
“I came home to a fucking note. Her clothes are gone—she’s gone.”
“She’s gone?”
“Yeah,” I whispered, a tear running down my cheek.
“How could she just leave?”
“I don’t know, but she did. What do I do?”
“Let me call her. I’ll call you back.”
I ended my call with Brooke, wondering if Nicole had gone back to Boston. It was the only thing I could think of since she wasn’t with Brooke. A few minutes later Brooke called me back.
“She’s not answering my calls either.”
“What do I do? I can’t lose her.”
“We’ll figure this out. We’ll find her.”
“Do you think she went back to Boston?”
“Maybe…”
“Why would she just leave me?”
“I’ve known women who have miscarried other than Nicole. They feel like a piece of them are gone and they go into a deep depression.”
“But I was here. I would have done anything for her.”
“I know. And Nicole probably knows that too. But sometimes your mind feeds you bullshit. Let me call her mom and see if Nicole’s there.”
“I wasn’t gone long enough for her to be there yet.”
“Well, let me call her to see if she’s at least heard from her. No sense in you driving there if she isn’t on her way to Boston.”
“Okay,” I agreed.
I didn’t get to say goodbye. I didn’t get to tell her how much I loved her. She just left. She fucking left.
“Well?”
“She hasn’t heard from her.”
“What the fuck?”
“I don’t know, Av. Where would she go?”
“Only to your place or her parents’…right?”
“What if she packed her bags, wanting to leave, but she didn’t make it out of town and changed her mind?”
“What do you mean?”
“Is there a place that’s a special place or anything?”
I thought for a moment. “Maybe?”
“Why don’t you go there and see if she’s there. Call me back and I’ll keep trying to get ahold of her.”
“Okay. Thanks.” I pushed the End button on my cell.
The only place I could think of was our tree with the pink flowers where I told Nicole I’d loved her for the first time.
I arrived at the park and didn’t see Nicole’s car. My heart dropped. While I drove to the park, I was hopeful that Nicole was there. I was hopeful that I could talk to her, show her that I wanted her to stay, show her that I needed her to stay.
Getting out of my truck, I decided to make sure she wasn’t at the tree. I was right. The closer I got to the tree, I could tell she wasn’t there. The leaves and flowers had already fallen off from the seasons changing. When I ran my hand over the heart with our initials carved in the bark, my heart broke more.
How could she leave me?
I just wanted her to stay. To stay with me. I was hurting too and Nicole walking out the door wasn’t going to solve anything; it was only going to make it worse.
A few people were walking dogs, holding hands, laughing, and all I could do was cry. I tried not to show it. I was a man after all, but my heart was breaking. It was being ripped from my chest slowly each time I thought of her. Maybe I wasn’t meant to be in a relationship because just when I thought that I found the one, she took my heart and dangled it in front of my eyes.
I tried Nicole again on her cell, she still wasn’t answering. I sent her text after text after text with no response. Not only was I upset that she left, but I was worried that something had happened to her.
Dusk turned to darkness as I sat under our tree waiting for Nicole to show or at least text me back. The light jacket that I had on allowed the cold wind to seep through, but I couldn’t feel anything. What was worth feeling if the only person that made me feel had left me?
I’d planned to go to my parents’ house, move back in, and ask Dr. Sam if I could have my job back. But as soon as I’d left the city, I turned around. I needed to think about what I was doing. I had five days to think about it, but Avery was there and each time I looked at his face, I changed my mind. I felt like I was trapping him. Giving him hope that everything would eventually be okay in time.
I loved Avery.
I loved him more than I’d ever loved anyone before.
When I turned my car around, there was only one place that I wanted to go. When Avery told me that he loved me under our tree in the park, I knew that the tree would be forever ours. I would always remember how he made me feel that day. How he’d told me he loved me. How I thought moving in with him was going to be a step closer to our future. We didn’t know that I was pregnant at the time. All I knew was that we were in love and that was all I’d needed.
When I found out that I was pregnant and Avery was excited to finally become a father, I wanted more than love. I wanted a family, my own family. I’d always wanted one, but seeing the joy on his face solidified how right everything felt. Now that w
e weren’t going to be a family, what was the point?
While I sat under our tree, I saw Avery’s name pop up on my cell phone screen. I knew leaving him a note was a coward’s way out. I wanted to answer his call. I wanted to tell him I was coming home—but I couldn’t because I wasn’t.
I couldn’t face him and if he knew where I was, he’d find me. If I looked into his baby blues, I would change my mind. He deserved someone much better than me. He deserved to be happy and if I wasn’t happy anymore, how could I make him happy?
Maybe Avery and I were only meant to be together so Brooke and Easton could find each other. If it weren’t for me, Easton would have never known about Brooke’s tumor since Brooke had left him without a way to stay in contact. Easton wouldn’t have been able to reach out to her after the cruise. Maybe Avery and I were only meant to be temporary acquaintances? Brooke’s on her way to becoming healthy again, so maybe our chess pieces aren’t needed anyone.
I stared up at a few branches of our tree as I sat under it. The pink flowers had all fallen off as fall set in, leaving the tree bare—just like I was feeling. When our baby died, a piece of me had died too. I wasn’t the same person and part of me felt like I could never be happy again.
As I sat there, tears rolling down my face, Brooke’s name appeared on my phone and I knew she knew. I couldn’t talk to her either. She’d tell me to go back to Avery and that everything would be okay. But I’d failed Avery and I couldn’t go back.
I stood, ran my finger along the engraved heart with our initials, then walked back to my car and headed for Boston like my original plan.
Time would heal all wounds.
As I drove to my parents’, I kept my cell phone in my purse. I didn’t want to know how many times Avery or Brooke called, how many times they’d texted, or how many times they wanted to tell me to turn around.
The One (The Halo Series Book 2) Page 18
