“Yep. Where are we going?”
“Well, since you don’t seem to be eating, and losing weight when you’re pregnant and already too thin is not a good thing, I thought we would start with brunch, but no mimosas for you. Then maybe go window-shopping at the mall just to get you out around people. The walking will help you, too. Endorphins or something like that. Then on to the nail place for a Mani/Pedi.”
She’s trying really hard to make this fun for me, a girl’s day like any other day. One thing I love about Jenny, she’s always got a smile on her face; the glass is always half-full.
We settle on Mimi’s for brunch. The portions are huge, which is exactly why I presume Jenny insisted on it, but the food is good, too. I’m really not very hungry, actually my stomach hurts, but it’s more like cramping than nausea. When we sit down, I slide into the booth, getting a shooting pain in just below my bellybutton. The pain is sharp enough that it causes me to wince out loud. I guess sucking air between my teeth caught Jenny’s attention. “You okay? What’d you do?”
“Nothing, just got a pain when I slid in, but it’s gone now. No big deal.” I reassure her; although, I’m not so sure myself. The pain continues while we order, then while I push my food around my plate. It’s gotten so intense that I’m nauseous. Scooting off the bench, I give Jenny a weak smile. “I’m going to run to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”
“Everything okay? You look really pale. Do you want me to come with you?”
“No, silly. I’m fine. If we both disappear, the waiter is going to think we skipped out on the bill. If I’m not back in five minutes send out a search party,” I giggle to try to ease her worry, and possibly my own. The physical pain that I thought was my ache for Gray has settled into my belly in the form of cramps. I’ve gotten so used to feeling like shit that I’ve ignored my body’s pleas for attention.
When I reach the bathroom, I close the stall door leaning over the toilet. I’m really light headed, so against my better judgment, I’m forced to steady myself with my hands on the toilet seat, sinking to my knees. It feels like they have the heat on in this place; I’m burning up. There’s sweat dripping down my face, and blackness starts to encroach my vision. I close my eyes to try to regain control, taking deep breaths. Why the fuck is it so damn hot in this bathroom?
“Annie?” I hear footsteps, but can’t open my eyes for fear of falling over or passing out. “Annie?” Shit, I must have passed my five-minute marker. The search party, namely Jenny, is out in full force. “Oh, God, Annie. Open the door.” When I don’t open it, I guess she crawled under the stall door. There’s not enough room in here for one, much less two, but once under the door, she unlocks it flinging it open. “Annie, there’s a lot of blood. I think I should call 911.”
“Blood? What are you talking about?” I can’t open my eyes to look. Instinctively, I know what she’s talking about the moment the words come out of her mouth, but if I look, it will be real.
“Annie, you need to get to a hospital, there’s blood everywhere. Your pants are soaked. I’ll be right back, don’t move.” I’m not sure where she thought I was going to go in this condition, but I obliged. I start to cry and sink down on to the cold tile floor. Holding my stomach, I talk to Cole, tell him I love him, and I’m sorry I will never get to meet him. I tell him I’m sorry I hadn’t taken care of him so he would one day see the sunlight and smell the rain. I beg God not to take him from me. I try to barter with the Almighty to allow me to keep my little boy. I promise him the moon, but in the end, God already has everything, including the moon, and my pleas fall on deaf ears.
I wake up in a hospital room with Jenny and Lynn sitting side by side at the edge of my bed. Their faces show signs of a lot of tears. They are swollen, and their eyes are puffy and red. My hand goes to my belly, sending Lynn into a tizzy, but she can’t find the words. I know he is gone. Slowly, I close my eyes to drown myself in darkness; the tears seep from the corners of my eyes. I can’t stop the sobs from coming as I roll onto my side, clutching my belly, aching for the loss of my child.
Sometime later, the nurse comes in to check my vitals. I open my eyes to find Jenny and Lynn still here, looking exactly the same, as if no time has passed. The nurse asks me about my pain level, but I can’t respond. How do you put a number on mourning? I realize she is asking about my physical pain, but the emotional pain is manifesting itself into the physical, all blending together.
Karen, that’s what the nurse says is her name, is trying to explain that they did a D&C when I was brought in. The miscarriage had already begun and I had lost too much blood. There was nothing they could do to stop it. She tells me that I will be discharged later in the afternoon. She explains I will be given some pain medication, and I need to go home and rest for several days.
I’m not sure what it is about loss, but I think it makes people react in strange ways. I’m normally not the type to interrupt someone or be intentionally rude, but I just blurted out while Karen is in mid-sentence, “Where’s Gray?” Looking at my friends for a response, Lynn finally says, “We didn’t know if you would want us to call him. We thought you might want to be the one to tell him.”
Looking up at Karen, who’s wide-eyed, but has likely been in this odd type of conversation before, I ask, “Did I do something wrong? Is it my fault Cole didn’t make it?”
“Oh, sweetheart, no! Unfortunately, miscarriages happen, and medically speaking, we usually don’t know the cause.” Her words are warm and encouraging, like she really means what she’s saying to me, but she doesn’t know about the drugs before I found out I was pregnant. She doesn’t know about the stress. She doesn’t know about the depression since Gray left, and even worse since I met Erin.
Before I can stop them, I’m choking on the cries. “I killed him. It’s my fault that sweet little boy will never meet his Daddy.” All three women try to reassure me that’s not true, but deep within me, I know it is. Just one more loss, one more disappointment.
It’s about four o’clock when I’m discharged from the hospital. Lynn doesn’t go with us to my house, but Jenny assures me she isn’t leaving any time soon. I just want to be alone. I want to wallow in the grief that consumes me. Instead, I go home to sleep for what must have been two full days. I would get up to pee, take more pain meds, and then lie back down. Jenny never left the apartment – she was usually on the couch watching TV.
Eventually, she goes grocery shopping, and I’ve also found her doing laundry, but I never speak to her. I just drug myself and go back to bed. She must have gotten tired of sitting around, or maybe it was the constant chirping of my phone, either way, she finally comes into my room demanding I get up before tossing my cell phone on the bed next to me.
“Annie, I wasn’t trying to be nosey, but wanted to make sure to ward off any unwanted visitors who didn’t get a response to their text or phone calls. I’m pretty sure Gray knows about Cole. He has blown up your phone, both calling and texts. I finally responded, telling him that you were asleep and that I’d have you call when you got up. Unfortunately, that was over twenty-four hours ago, now he’s flipping out. You’re going to have to call him.”
“How the hell did he find out?” I’m half-awake, but more than pissed that someone took it upon themselves to share this information with him without my permission.
“I don’t know. I’ve been holed up here with you for two days, so it sure as hell wasn’t me.”
“What have his texts said?” She just nods toward the phone indicating I should read them myself. Picking it up, I’m not sure that I want to know what he has to say. They start out concerned. No mention of Cole, just that he’s worried about me. Scarlett says I’ve been sick and no one has seen me. The longer they go unanswered, the more irritation I detect in his words until they are demanding; wanting to know where I am, what I’m doing, why I won’t respond. He never mentions Cole or the hospital, but Jenny’s right, he knows. He just won’t acknowledge it in a text message. I throw mysel
f back down on the pillow, staring at the ceiling, letting out a deep breath.
“Annie, I’m going to get out of here for a while, let you deal with this your own way, privately. Call me if you need me; otherwise, I’ll be back tomorrow to check on you.”
“Thanks, Jen.”
Picking up the phone, I call Gray. He answers on the first ring. “Annie?”
“Hey, Gray.”
“Where the fuck have you been?”
“At home.” I don’t like his tone at all. Either he calms his ass down or this will turn into our second fight. Right now, I don’t care one way or the other which way he wants to play it.
“Why haven’t you answered my calls or returned my texts?”
“Gray, you can either calm down and talk to me like I’m a human being or I’m hanging up and you can get your answers from someone who cares what you think right now. That would not be me.” I’m fuming mad, hormones are apparently still pulsating through my veins because I don’t give two shits what Gray Dearsley thinks or wants to know.
“Where the hell did that come from? I’m concerned about you and you’re yelling at me?” Knowing Gray, his fear comes out in anger. This is his fear getting the best of him, but right now I just don’t give a shit.
“Look, Gray, I’m really tired and don’t want to fight with you. Is there something you need or did you just want to know I’m still breathing?” I sound like a bitch even in my own ears. I’m sure Gray is dumbfounded by the words I’m spewing at him. I’ve never talked to him like this.
“I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Bird Dog, I know.” I’m silent at this confession for the simple fact that I don’t know what to say. “Why didn’t you call me?” His voice is soft, almost loving.
“I didn’t call anyone, Gray. I don’t even remember going to the hospital. It was over when I woke up. I’ve been in bed for the last two days doped up on pain meds.”
“What happened?” His voice cracks as he asks the question, either from trying to maintain control over his tone or from pain at the loss of Cole.
“I don’t know. The nurse said it just happens.” I’m on the brink of an emotional breakdown that I can’t afford to have with Gray in attendance. I need to get off the phone, quickly. “Gray, I’m not feeling all that great. Can we talk later?”
“Baby, talk to me. Don’t shut me out.” Is he fucking kidding me? Don’t shut HIM out? Where the fuck has he been the entire time I’ve been pregnant? Oh, that’s right, enjoying his freedom. My emotional turmoil is running rampant between crushing sadness and fiery rage. Gray is about to get the brunt of it.
“I’m sorry, Gray. I’ve gotta go.” I hang up before he can respond allowing myself to cry, mourn, rage, and throw things. I’m physically and emotionally exhausted. It’s like I just can’t handle life these days. I’ve become one of those women that I hate; weak, can’t function on her own, who allows life’s circumstances to dictate her worth, viability, and happiness. I sleep deeply that night; it’s the only thing that numbs the pain.
What is it with people calling me in the middle of the fucking night? My phone is so loud that it could wake the dead. I have no idea why the damn thing isn’t on vibrate. I pick it up to see Gray’s name on the caller ID. Normally, I would answer and he would come over after leaving whatever bar he’s at, probably the one behind my apartment, but not tonight. I switch it to vibrate before throwing it back on the coffee table to go back to sleep. It seems like I’ve just fallen asleep when my home phone starts ringing. Gray and his ex-wife are the only people who even know the number, and I think it’s a safe bet that it’s not Abby. Stumbling to the wall, I pull the base down and unplug the phone, silencing the relentless noise. Hopefully, that will eliminate the interruptions. Irritated as hell, I lie back down on the couch, covering up with a blanket, letting sleep envelop me.
I’m not sure how much later it is when the beating on the door starts. Throwing the blanket on the couch, I stomp toward the front door. Looking through the peephole, I see Gray standing there, and he’s beyond angry. He’s wearing his GT hat backward, has on a t-shirt, and jeans, but his face is beet red. I’ve never ignored him, but the last forty-eight hours I’ve ignored every effort he has made to contact me. I know that if I let him in, he will provide comfort that I desperately need, and wholeheartedly want. Closing my hand on the doorknob, I almost turn it, but stop myself. I can’t do it anymore; I can’t stay on the rollercoaster that is Gray Dearsley. If I’m ever going to start healing, I have to get away from him. I have to let him go like he did me. It’s not because I don’t love him, it’s actually because I do, but also because I love myself or at least I want to.
He starts yelling through the door, “Annie, I know you’re there. I know you can hear me. Please open the door.” His voice sounds desperate. “Baby, open the door. Talk to me, please.”
I need him to leave. I won’t be able to stay strong long. He always has that authority over me, the power to change my every thought, because I want him, I belong to him.
“Bird Dog?” Looking back through the peephole, all I can see is the top of his head leaning against the door. “Annie, please.” His plea is softer this time, like he knows I’m right on the other side of the door. Hearing footsteps on the stairs, I glance back out to see he’s gone. Turning my back against the door, I slide to the floor. Putting my head on my knees, I wrap my arms around them, and I let myself cry.
Chapter Twenty-Seven – Gray
I can’t believe she wouldn’t open the door. I know she was there. I know she was at the door. I heard her walk up to it. She heard me talking to her, and chose not to answer, but I can’t let it go. I can’t let her go. I destroyed my phone after I called her home phone and she didn’t answer. I know she unplugged the phone because her answering machine never picked up. It made me angry as hell, causing me to throw my phone across the bar, shattering it against a wall just before an enormous bouncer threw me out.
I didn’t fight him. I needed to leave anyhow. I walked over to her apartment from the bar, expecting her to let me in, simply because she always does. But tonight, she didn’t even acknowledge me, didn’t open the door, and wouldn’t talk to me. Now I have to walk back to my truck before I can go to another phone to try to call her again. When I get to the BP station down the street, I call her cell, surprised when she answers.
“Hello?” I can tell she’s been crying. I want to reach through the phone to hold her, tell her that everything’s going to be okay, and we will work it out.
“Hey, baby.”
“Hey, Gray.”
“Let me come over. We need to talk.”
“There’s nothing to talk about, Gray. I can’t do this anymore.”
“What do you mean you can’t do this anymore?” That just pisses me off, unrightfully so, but all the same.
“Just what I said. I want something you can’t give me. I can’t keep sitting around hoping that you will change your mind. That you will love me enough to commit to me. That you will get tired of chasing this idea of independence and accept that I love you. That’s not enough for you, Gray, and that’s all I have to give. I love you so much I’ve lost myself trying to show you. I lost Cole trying to show you. I’m hurting just as much as you are. I don’t want to do this, but I’ve had time to think a lot the last few weeks. You are never going to change. You are who you are, and I don’t want to change you. I want to be what you need, but the fact is we want different things out of life. I need stability, safety, and security. You need independence and spontaneity, always living day to day. Neither of us is going to change who we are at the core. I love you enough to let you go so you can be who you were meant to be.”
“You didn’t lose Cole because of me. You lost Cole because you were snorting shit up your nose and smoking crap you had no business smoking. You took him from me, Annie!”
That was it. She hangs up. When I hear the line go dead
, I see red. Slamming my fist into the metal box the phone hangs on, pain radiates through my fist. I can’t stop the wrath. I just lost my son, and now Annie. I pull the phone so hard that the cord rips out of the box. The details of what happen to the rest of the pay phone are lost on me as I stand in front of it. My knuckles are bloody, my hands feel like they’ve been run over, and the box that was once hanging in the phone booth is now in pieces on the ground. I get back in my truck and cry.
I feel guilty for the relief I felt when I found out from Lynn that Annie had a miscarriage. Instead of comforting her, knowing she loved that little boy she’d never met, I blamed her for his demise. Lynn told me how hard she was taking losing Cole, how hard she was taking losing me, that overall she just wasn’t dealing well. What I don’t understand is why she never called me. Why didn’t she come to me for comfort? Fuck, who am I kidding? Why would she come to me for comfort? I was the reason for her pain. Still pretty tipsy from drinking the night away, I put the truck in gear, crying the entire drive home.
Once home, I sit in my room staring at the walls, listening to depressing music, most of which reminds me of Annie. I don’t want to believe the words she uttered on the phone. She won’t leave me; she loves me. Annie is the girl who will always be with me, always be in my life, because that’s the connection we have. We are tied together by some higher power. She’s never walked away from me, never hung up on me. She’s promised me more times than I can count that no one will ever love me the way she does. I’ve always known that was true, but I just assumed that meant she’d always be in my back pocket.
I took a cheap shot at her, but I can’t help but think that maybe Cole would still be with us if she hadn’t been doing drugs again when she got pregnant, but shit, she didn’t know she was pregnant. Then again, if she’s been as bad off as her friends say she has been because I’ve been treating her like she wasn’t worth my time, then maybe it is my fault. Or maybe it just wasn’t meant to be. Maybe it wasn’t our time. Shit, I don’t know. I just know I fucking hurt. I know Annie is hurting. I can’t sooth either one of us, and for me that’s almost as bad as losing Cole. I want to shelter her, to comfort her, just embrace her, but I’m not sure she’s ever going to let me do that again. It takes everything in me not to pick up the phone to call her, not to go back to her apartment to demand she see me, but something in me tells me she’s really done. I’ve gone too far this time. I’ve lost her.
Bound by Love Page 19