Shattered

by Jennifer K Thomas

  Copyright © 2019 Jennifer K. Thomas

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by reviewers, who may quote brief passages in a review.

  ISBN 978-1-7323987-3-3 (Print)

  ISBN 978-1-7323987-4-0 (ePub)

  ISBN 978-1-7323987-5-7 (Kindle)

  Library of Congress Control Number 2019938362

  Cover design by Fiona Jayde/Fiona Jayde Media

  Interior formatting by Tamara Cribley/The Deliberate Page

  Edited by Nikki Groom/The Indie Hub

  Printed in the United States of America.

  Published by On The Verge Publishing

  P.O. Box 891633, Temecula, CA 92589

  Visit www.authorjenniferkthomas.com

  To Mom and Dad

  Thank you for showing me what love and commitment really look like.

  I miss you both every day.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  I flinch when I realize how fast we’re passing the other cars on the freeway. One glance at Luke confirms how focused he is. He’s staring straight ahead, my concern not registering with him, so I look away and let him focus on getting us to our destination in silence. The quiet is preferred over either of us uttering our horrible suspicions aloud.

  I stare out the window at the dark stores and nearly deserted streets. Under different circumstances I might describe the scene as peaceful, but the gravity of the situation at hand doesn’t leave room for that word. Desolate seems more fitting.

  Luke only begins to slow as we enter the off ramp and the tires audibly protest when he still takes the right turn too sharply. I grab the overhead handle and continue to hold it as we pull into the parking lot.

  Luke swings violently into an open spot and jumps out. He’s at my door before I’ve finished removing the seatbelt and I glance up at him as he reaches for me. His eyes are a brilliant shade of blue, their beauty a stark contrast to the panic swirling in them. I don’t need his assistance out of the car, but I allow him to take my arm anyway.

  After we’ve entered the large sterile room, I take a look around us. A mother holds a pale, sweaty toddler in her lap. A man winces every time he moves, in case the woman he’s with has forgotten how much pain he’s in. An elderly woman quietly reads her book, I can’t tell if she’s here for a loved one or if she’s waiting her turn to be seen. Women tend to do that, hide our pain beneath smiles and politeness. Would the doctor suddenly become more capable, a miracle worker, if I came in crying and carrying-on? No, he wouldn’t, so better to not make anyone else uncomfortable.

  I take a seat on one of the vinyl covered chairs in the corner, as far away from the other people as possible. I pick up a magazine from the table next to me and turn to a random page. The letters all blend together and I can’t seem to make any sense of the words.

  “Jess.” Luke’s voice startles me. I look up at him, but don’t say anything. “I need your insurance card and your driver’s license.”

  I reach into my purse that’s stuffed between my hip and the arm of the chair, find the cards and hand them to him. He bends down and kisses the top of my head and my heart clenches. I love Luke even more when he shows his softer side, something I hope he does more often as we settle into our second attempt at a relationship and prepare to be married.

  When he returns from the check-in desk a few minutes later, I’m back to pretending to read the same page. Luke sits next to me and places his hand on my thigh.

  “I’m sure everything’s fine, but better to get you checked out.” He’s trying to reassure himself as much as he is me.

  I remain silent, paralyzed by fear and my desire to not make the situation more upsetting than it already is. Besides, no need to kill his hopes yet, the doctor will do that shortly. It’s not my intention to be negative. I wish I still had the luxury of optimism, but sometimes a woman simply knows things, can feel them. Even though it wasn’t a large amount of blood on my pajama bottoms tonight, I know that it was life changing…life ending.

  “Jessica Rogers,” a nurse calls while holding open one of the swinging doors with her back.

  I set down the magazine and Luke and I stand at the same time, walking over toward the woman studying the clipboard in her hands. I steal a glance at Luke and note the look of determination contorting his handsome features into their less friendly versions. I would bet money he’s running over everything in his head, trying to decide his next course of action. Luke is used to taking charge and making things happen.

  “Follow me,” the nurse says as she leads us to a room and motions for us to sit. She proceeds to ask all the basic questions: When did the bleeding start? What was I doing when it started? Am I having any cramping? She takes my temperature, pulse and blood pressure before leaving us to wait for the doctor.

  “Do you want me to call your mom?” Luke asks, trying to keep his brain busy.

  “Not yet. It’s late, I’ll call her in the morning.” I mutter.

  Before Luke can try to change my mind, we hear footsteps approaching.

  A tall, middle aged woman in a white coat walks in the room looking down at a folder she’s holding. “I’m Dr. Halloway,” her eyes meet mine while shaking my hand. “You’re having some bleeding and you’re eight weeks pregnant.” She turns her eyes down to the papers again.

  “Yes,” I say softly.

  “Have you been to your OB yet for this pregnancy?”

  “Yes, about a week ago. Everything seemed fine then.” It was a little early for a first prenatal appointment, but Luke was excited, and my doctor was happy to oblige. Despite the youth of the pregnancy, the doctor was able to find the heartbeat and said everything looked great.

  “Good. This is your second pregnancy?”

  “Yes, my daughter is eight.” Thank God Amelia wasn’t home tonight. I usually hate that my divorce forces me to split my time with her with my ex-husband, but in this instance, it’s worked out for the best.

  “Any complications with that pregnancy?”

  “No.” I shake my head. As I answer, I realize I took my easy pregnancy with Amelia for granted. I felt good throughout most of it, well enough for me to finish out my junior year of college before she was born the subsequent summer.

  “Are you the father?” She looks at Luke for the first time.

  “Yes.” Luke answers anxiously, but the doctor simply looks back at me.

  “Well, bleeding isn’t uncommon in early pregnancy, but it can be a sign of miscarriage, so I want to get you in for an ultrasound to see what’s going on.” She briefly returns her attenti
on back to Luke. “You can go with her if you’d like.”

  “Thank you,” Luke says, and the doctor nods. After she leaves, he reaches over and takes my hand. “She said it’s not uncommon. Everything’s going to be all right. Try to stay positive.”

  I know he means well, but his comment irritates me. Like my gut feeling that everything is, in fact, not all right is somehow causing this. That I’m somehow to blame because I can’t muster enough faith to make the outcome different.

  Several minutes later, I’ve changed into a scratchy hospital gown and I’m being wheeled into the ultrasound room. The technicians make small talk with us as they prepare their equipment. I let Luke answer their questions about how long we’ve been in the area and the lack of rain we’ve had so far this season, and focus on breathing instead. Once the first black and white grainy image appears on the screen, they turn the monitor away from us and stop speaking to us. Instead they talk to each other about their weekend plans.

  After a few minutes of listening to the details of a weekend trip to Big Bear, it’s over. “All right, Jessica. We’re all done here. We’ll call the nurse to come take you back to your room. The doctor will discuss the results with you.”

  “Okay,” I say, even though I’ve never felt less okay in my life.

  Luke and I don’t say anything to each other, but once we’re back in my room he takes my hand again. “It’s going to be okay.”

  That word again. “Luke, the techs stopped talking to us during the ultrasound, that isn’t a good sign.”

  “They aren’t allowed to discuss the results.”

  “I understand that, but if they found a heartbeat, they would’ve shown us the screen.”

  “Not necessarily,” he responds quickly, right before Dr. Halloway walks in. She sits across from us and motions for Luke to have a seat.

  She leans in before beginning. “We weren’t able to find a heartbeat during the ultrasound,” she says in a softer voice than she used earlier.

  Even though I’m not surprised, the words cause physical pain in my core. I faintly register that Luke has grabbed my hand.

  “Being only eight weeks pregnant, the heartbeat can still be hard to find. There’s a chance that we simply couldn’t find it tonight.” I barely feel present, like I’m in a dream, as she continues to speak. “It’s Saturday, so you won’t be able to follow up with your doctor until Monday. In the meantime, I’m going to order labs to begin tracking your hCG levels. You’ll need to come back to the lab tomorrow and have blood redrawn.”

  It takes a moment to realize she’s done and has stopped talking. I look at Luke, but he doesn’t look at me. He’s staring at the ground, shoulders slumped.

  “Can I go now?” I ask quietly.

  “Wait,” Luke says, and looks up at the doctor while rubbing the back of his neck. “We were just at the doctor last week and everything was fine.”

  “Luke…” I say gently.

  His eyes meet mine. I’ve never seen him look so confused. “This doesn’t make any sense.”

  “I’m really sorry.” Dr. Halloway attempts to sound sympathetic, but I can tell she’s ready to move on to the next patient. My early-term miscarriage is too common for her. Something so regular in occurrence, it won’t even make the list of stories she shares with her family and friends. The thought makes me not want to share this moment with her any longer.

  “I’ll come back to the lab tomorrow and I’ll call my doctor Monday,” I say, effectively dismissing her.

  She nods and leaves us. I stand and so does Luke. Once he wraps his arms around me, I can’t hold my emotions in anymore and he rubs my back as my tears soak his T-shirt.

  “I need to get out of here,” I say into his chest. I need to get home to my own bed and my own clothes. He releases me, and I get dressed while he speaks with the nurse responsible for my discharge.

  I quietly cry toward the window the entire drive home. I can’t bear to look at Luke again. He doesn’t say anything, but keeps his free hand firmly grasping mine the entire time.

  It isn’t until we’re in bed, wrapped up in each other, that we fully accept what’s happening. It was only a few weeks ago when I realized my period was late. Luke’s return to my life had been filled with a season of ups and downs, but we were finally heading in the right direction. When I told Luke I was pregnant, sooner than either of us planned, I was nervous. Luke’s difficult relationship with his own father has tainted his views on life and family, more than I think he even realizes. Nonetheless, I was pleasantly surprised when he was genuinely excited about the baby. The thought only makes the tears come faster.

  I turn my face toward Luke’s. When I see the tears in his eyes, I know it’s an image that will stay with me forever. The sobs tear through my body until I’ve fully exhausted myself and I fall asleep.

  I wake up only a few hours later with a headache and a dry mouth. I experience a brief moment of relief before I remember; it’s a terrible, cruel feeling when you realize the bad dream you think you’re waking up from is your reality. It seems horribly unfair that the events of the previous night are real and I won’t be able to sleep them away.

  Luke is snoring lightly. I’m glad he’s getting a respite from this nightmare, andI’m also happy to not have to see the disappointment in his eyes right now. He would never blame me for this and logically I know it’s not my fault, but I still feel like I’ve let him down somehow.

  I quietly slip out of bed and go downstairs. I get a glass of water and curl my legs underneath me on the couch. I don’t have any more tears to give right now. To feel so much pain and still somehow feel numb at the same time is perhaps the most unsettling feeling in the world.

  I can’t yet wrap my head around the fact that only yesterday I was pregnant and happy. I was sure when Grant cheated on me and I left him, that my chance for a happy family was gone. Then Luke reappeared after a lifetime apart and slowly my hope grew and that dream felt attainable again. I feel almost lied to, like I was made a promise and now it’s been taken back.

  I retrieve my phone and push the button to call my mom. It’s early, but I know she’ll already be up enjoying her morning cup of coffee. She answers after the first ring.

  “Why are you up so early on a Sunday?” she asks in a serious tone. I rarely call this early and she’s automatically suspicious something is wrong.

  “Mom…” My throat feels dry.

  “What’s wrong, Jessica?” The alarm in her voice rises.

  “We lost the baby.” I manage to say the words before choking back a sob and the grief immediately makes me miss the numbness.

  “Oh, Jessica,” is all my mom says. She waits as I unleash the emotions threatening to rip me apart. Once I can steal a breath and steady myself a little, I tell her the whole story from the night before. Being a nurse, I imagine she’s curious about the details, but she listens with her mom ears and doesn’t offer any medical opinions.

  “I can be dressed and there in an hour.”

  “That’s okay. Luke’s here and we both didn’t get much sleep last night. I’ll probably nap most of the day. Thank God Amelia is with Grant for the week. How am I going to tell her?” I wonder aloud, the last words punctuated by a fresh round of tears.

  “Let’s not worry about that right now. How’s Luke?”

  “He’s upset.” My voice cracks remembering the look on his face last night while we lay in bed together.

  “Of course he is. I want to give you two space, but I want to help, too.” As a nurse, she knows what I’m going to go through physically. As my mom, she knows what this will do to me emotionally. “At least let me bring you some dinner later and maybe throw in a load of laundry for you.”

  “Okay.” With anyone else I would insist I can handle everything on my own, but not with her. She’s always been the only one I feel safe enough to admit I need help to.<
br />
  “I’ll call you in a little while to see what you want to eat. Call me if you need anything in the meantime.”

  “I will.”

  “I love you, Jessica. And tell Luke I love him, too.” My mom’s voice cracks a little and it causes the tears to well up in my eyes again.

  “I love you, too, Mom. Bye,” I manage to squeak out.

  I hang up and grab the blanket from the edge of the couch. I’ve just wrapped it around me and laid down when Luke walks in.

  “Did you talk to your mom?” he asks, taking a seat and pulling my feet into his lap.

  “Yeah.”

  “What did she say?” His large hands skillfully knead my calves.

  “She loves us. She’s bringing us dinner later.”

  “That’s nice.” Luke’s voice sounds hollow, echoing how I feel.

  “Yeah.”

  Luke’s quiet. Not knowing what to say is undoubtedly uncomfortable for him. “Let me know when you’re ready to go to the lab for the bloodwork.”

  “Okay.”

  “And the doctor tomorrow?”

  “I’ll call them first thing in the morning.” With that settled, the silence stretches out between us.

  Luke stares straight ahead and continues to rub my legs. “Who knows, maybe they will be able to find a heartbeat today.”

  I stare at the blanket in my lap. “I don’t want you to get your hopes up.”

  “I’m just trying to stay positive, you should, too.” Luke reclines back against the cushions.