Then it hits me. No. No. No. This isn’t my period. This is something bad. Very bad.
“Aiden!” I yell. “Aiden! I have to go to the hospital!”
The next hour is a blur. Aiden speeds through the streets to get me to the hospital. He keeps telling me that everything is going to be fine. He is holding my hand. He is right here next to me, but it feels like he’s a million miles away. And then the next moment, I see him and hear him, but he’s muffled. He’s no longer far away, but there’s a big wall of plexiglass separating us.
Help me, I say over and over, but nothing comes out of my mouth.
I look over at him. I can’t hear anything he’s saying either. All I see are bright lights whizzing by me, engulfing me.
The car stops in front of a big red sign. I try to read what it says, but I can’t. E. Mer. I look closer. It’s like my brain isn’t connected to my mind. I should know what it says, but I don’t.
Emergency.
Yes, that’s right. We’re at the emergency entrance to the hospital.
A bunch of people run out. They put me into a wheelchair and roll me into a bright white hallway. I cover my eyes to shield myself from the flood of fluorescent lights.
Aiden is barking orders somewhere behind me.
Nurses and other medical staff gather around me as they wheel me into a room.
* * *
Some people are just not meant to be born. At least, that’s one of the theories out there. Some people just don’t want to be born. I don’t know if this is the case with my son or not. I know that all the doctors and nurses who are milling around me are trying their best to stop this miscarriage from happening. Aiden is, of course, doing his best in giving everyone orders, even those people who don’t work for him, and that’s pretty much everyone around here.
What am I doing? Nothing really. I’m just lying here in bed, trying to stay perfectly still despite of all the commotion around me. Just breathe, I say to myself over and over. But I’m not just talking to myself. I’m also talking to my son. Just breathe, I say to him. Just stay with me. I will be here for you no matter what.
The thing about surprise babies is that they aren’t exactly planned. That seems obvious, but with the surprise comes something else as well. It’s this feeling of uncertainty. It’s not that I don’t want the baby; it’s just that I’ve never really given it much thought. I’m shocked that it happened. So, it’s hard to really know how you feel about the whole thing. Until now, that is.
Now, lying here in this hospital bed, I know that I want him. I want him to stay with me. I don’t know whether he wants to come into this world. Or whether he will be too good for this world (probably), but I still selfishly want him here.
Please stay, I say to myself. Please stay.
“Please stay,” I say out loud. My voice cracks in the middle, but I remain steadfast. “Please stay,” I repeat over and over again.
Not long after that, the bleeding stops. Just as mysteriously, and without much of an explanation, as it started. The doctor and the nursing staff are a bit dumbfounded, but they try not to let on. They keep me overnight for observation. They talk to me about what might or might not happen in the future. I wrap my arm around my stomach and listen, taking in what they are saying with a grain of salt.
“Are you okay?” Aiden asks after everyone finally leaves the room. I nod and smile.
“I think it’s going to be okay now,” I say.
“Really? How do you know?”
“I don’t know.” I shrug. “I just have a feeling.”
He takes my hand and gives it a big squeeze.
“I’m sorry about today,” Aiden starts to say, but the door swings open and our moms and Brie appear. It’s a bit shocking to see them all in the same place, but I’m too tired to deal with it right now. I decide not to focus on any possible drama, but instead just welcome them in.
“What are you all doing here?” I ask tentatively, looking at Aiden.
“I called them. I wasn’t sure what was going to happen and I thought they should know."
“How are you feeling?” Mom and Brie ask almost simultaneously. “What happened?”
I go over the highlights of what happened. They oh and ah and shake their heads. Aiden’s mom gives me a little pat on my hand and a smile.
“Do you have good doctors here?” She turns to Aiden and asks.
“Yes,” he says.
“Because if not, I have no problem with moving her down to where she can get proper medical care,” she says with a wink. It’s a joke. And one that makes me smile broadly.
The three of them stay for close to an hour before Aiden finally ushers them out. I can honestly say, with even a hint of sarcasm, I actually had a good time. If he had asked me about them coming here beforehand, I would’ve told him a categorical no. But when they leave, I’m actually a little bit sad to see them go. Somehow, they all meld well together. I still have my individual issues with both his mom and mine, but when they are both here at the same time, along with Brie, who is always a good sport for brokering any truce, it feels good. Nice, actually. It’s good to know that there are people out there who will be here for me. Who love me. And who are here for my son.
“Okay, now that they are gone,” Aiden says, closing the door behind them. “I want to ask you something.”
Chapter 16 - Ellie
When he asks me…
Aiden takes my hand and gets down on one knee. I shake my head.
“What are you doing?”
“You know what I’m doing.”
He looks straight into my eyes and tells me he loves me. He tells me all the things that he has told me before.
“No,” I say. “I can’t do this again.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, yes, I want to get married. But we have been engaged before, you know.”
“Of course, I know.” He nods. I try to turn away, but he walks around the bed.
“Okay, no engagement this time.”
“What does that mean?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know exactly except that we shouldn’t call it an engagement. You’re right; we have been engaged before and maybe that’s not the best thing for us.”
I don’t know why I’m pulling away from him, except that I am. Maybe this isn’t the best time. Maybe he’s not saying the right things. Maybe I’ve just been through way too much to deal with this right now.
Aiden takes my hand in his. He looks deep into my eyes. There’s a severity that comes over him. A darkness. I get a glimpse of the man I saw before. On the yacht.
“Ellie,” he says slowly. Deliberately. “You are going to be my wife.”
I stare at him. No question. No options. No decisions to be made. What is this feeling that’s come over me? It’s like all the heaviness is lifted from my shoulders.
“But—“ I start to say, but he just puts his finger on my lips.
“I am not asking you. I am telling you.”
I nod.
“You are going to have a proper wedding. The thing that bridal magazines are made of. A dream wedding.”
I start to feel queasy again. The prospect of making all those decisions. Who to invite. What to wear. Where to have it. Finding just the right venue. I feel my whole body tensing up just at the thought of that. As if he can read my mind, Aiden furrows his brows.
“No,” he says.
“What?”
“No. You won’t have to plan a thing. It will be perfect and beautiful and everything you ever wanted, but you won’t do a thing.”
“Really? But how?”
“You’ll see.”
I like the sound of that. Frankly, I don’t really have any opinions about how a wedding should be. The ones featured in the magazines all seem beautiful and good enough. And then, my thoughts drift to something I do want to make a decision about.
“What about my dress?”
“You can pick that out yourself if you want.”
>
“I like that.”
Aiden gives me a little smile.
“So, let me get this straight? We are not engaged. And we’re going to have a dream wedding, but I won’t have to make any decisions about anything?”
“Yes.”
“And how is that going to happen?”
“It’s going to happen because Mr. Black is going to take care of it for you.”
Chapter 17 - Aiden
When I ask…
This time, I don’t ask. I mean, I did, but then I changed my mind. There is a well-known psychological fact that having too many choices results in anxiety and unhappiness with the final decision. Ellie has been through a lot. We have been engaged before. We almost got married. I know that she wants to marry me. What she doesn’t want to do is think about getting married again. Too much has gone wrong before when she did.
So, my gift to her is to just take the decision out of it. I don’t ask the question. I just tell her what’s going to happen. As soon as I do, I see a wave of relief sweep over her face. It’s the exact thing that she wants. She wants to have it all, but she doesn’t want to think about doing it. It’s like designing a house. Lots of people like the idea of building an entirely custom-built house, but they don’t know how much stress comes with making all of those choices. A much better choice, for some, is to just see a beautiful home that has everything you want and get it instead. That’s what I’m going to do for Ellie. She is going to give me the biggest gift of my life. This is the least I can do.
Don’t worry though. I’m not going to rely on my personal aesthetic to put together a wedding. I’m going to hire one of the most exclusive wedding planners there is. And she’s going to do it. She’s going to take care of every last detail. Except for the wedding dress.
“Do you think we can get married at the New York Public Library?” Ellie asks after a moment. “I mean, I know that I’m not supposed to make decisions and all, but it’s nostalgic. We had one of our first dates there.”
The idea of the place floods me with memories. All the flowers that I brought in for our dinner date at the Celeste Bartos Forum. The party planner pursued me to go for the light pink and purple lighting, which transformed the place into a room of romance and love. It especially drew attention to the thirty-foot high glass saucer ceiling. Come to think of it, that’s a great place for a wedding venue. It’s nearly sixty-five square feet in space, plenty for a wedding of any size.
“You are not supposed to be making any decisions,” I say. “I don’t want this to stress you out.”
“No, you’re right. You’re right.”
“Unfortunately, I don’t think you’ll be allowed to go to New York, remember. We have to stay in the state.”
“Oh, yes, of course,” she says. “I forgot. Okay, never mind. I’ll leave it up to you. The wedding you had planned at the garden at the hospital was beyond my dreams, so I know that this one will be as well.”
“All you have to know,” I say, “is that this wedding will be perfect. With lots of guests we don’t really know. With a budget that’s way too much and food that’s too expensive. And memories that we will never forget.”
She laughs. I smile.
“Why are you doing this, Aiden?” she asks after a moment. “I mean, we can easily just go to the courthouse and get it over with.”
“Yes, I know. But after everything we’ve been through, I think our relationship deserves a little celebration. A little too much overindulgence. Besides, it will give us something to look forward to in the midst of all this possible trial shit."
Her face falls. I immediately regret bringing that up. The whole point of this engagement and wedding is to not think about the fact that our life isn’t really our own. We don’t really know what’s going to happen and if the district attorney decides to take this to trial for the publicity, well, who the hell knows what’s going to happen.
“You are right. We do need this. Something good to think about. To live life to the fullest, now,” Ellie says, pulling herself together and wiping a little tear from the corner of her eye.
Chapter 18 - Ellie
When I look for a dress…
Thurston has done a good job of postponing the meeting with the DA and the detectives for another week. At first I’m, of course, relieved. Happy to have more time.
But then it just makes me even more anxious. Instead of being figured out, and dealing with the consequences, the whole thing is just getting dragged out. The only way I can really cope with not knowing is by putting the whole thing out of my mind. I try to stay busy. Occupy my hands and mind. The best way to do that is to write.
Aiden and I return to the hotel and while he works from the living room, I make myself at home on the large California King bed and dig into the last book of my story. Everything is coming to an end. It’s bittersweet. I don’t want to leave them, but I want them to get their happily ever after. My readers keep asking me when the last book will be out and I decide that this week will be the week that I finally finish it.
The one thing that I know is that they deserve their happy ending because I don’t know if I will get one. Aiden is planning this amazing wedding for us, but it feels more like a going away party. Most people are excited for their big day because it’s the beginning of their lives together. But me? I don’t know if I’m even going to be around next year. I mean, what if the worst happens? What if they decide to take this to trial and the jury finds me guilty? What then? Shivers run down my spine.
No, you can’t think like that. Stay positive, Ellie. That’s not going to happen. But is this even a good thing to think? Maybe I should prepare myself for the worst, just because it’s a possibility? Then I will be more prepared. I feel sick to my stomach. How do you even prepare to go to prison for a crime you didn’t commit? I mean, I did kill him, but it was all in self-defense.
No, I’m not going to think like that. If the worst happens, I will need to fight this. I will need all of my strength to fight for my life. Preparing for doing time is not an option. Especially, now that I have my baby on the way and a husband-to-be. I turn my attention back to the screen and begin writing. No matter what happens, these people that my readers fell in love with are going to have the best ending possible. Their love story is going to be one for the ages. It’s going to be one that people will want to read over and over again.
After writing for more than two hours with total focus, in an almost fever-like state, I give Aiden a peck on the lips and head out to my bridal appointment at Monique’s. It’s the best bridal boutique store in all of Boston, according to Aiden’s wedding planner. On my way over, I pop into a Starbucks and buy a large chocolate chip muffin. It’s not the best thing, but I am pregnant. Really pregnant and really hungry. Now that the nausea is somewhat controlled with the pills, I am still tired all the time and, on top of that, I’m also hardly ever satiated. As soon as I finish breakfast, I’m already thinking of lunch. My stomach starts to make noises and I have to have something, otherwise, I’m just going to feel sick again.
I arrive at the boutique feeling very guilty and unhappy with my body. This is definitely not an attitude that’s very conducive to bridal gown shopping. I know that, of course. But that’s life, huh?
The woman who meets me is dressed in a very sensible black suit and heels. Her hair is pulled out of her face and her makeup is flawless, but minimal. In the soothing, effervescent voice of a smooth jazz radio DJ, she introduces herself as Azelia and asks me what kind of outlines I prefer.
“I don’t really know,” I say. “I just need something that will fit me in a few weeks. I am going to be seven months pregnant at this wedding.”
“Oh, wow, congratulations,” she says without batting an eye. Hopefully, I am not the only knocked up bride that she has had the pleasure to dress.
“Well, then, how about we start with an empire waist? They are very flattering and will give your stomach room to expand.”
She takes m
e to a large room lined on all sides with luxurious drapery. There’s a three piece mirror in the middle. She tells me to wait here as she picks out some dresses for me to try on.
I take off my coat and finish the rest of my tea. I stuff the last bit of the muffin and lick my fingers. Man, Aiden is marrying a class act here, I say, looking at myself in the mirror.
I know that everyone nowadays preaches the importance of self-love and appreciating the body that you have. The only problem with that is how to actually get there. I look at myself in the mirrors. I haven’t really gained that much weight, but I have a small frame and I feel huge. Plus, it’s not so much that I feel fat (can I even say that anymore? Is that appropriate? But aren’t I entitled to the feelings that I have?). It’s more that I feel puffy. It’s like my whole body just got inflamed, or is it engorged? My breasts do look better, which is hard to complain about. But why did my arms have to get big, too? And my face? The problem is just there’s just too much flesh.
“Okay, I found this one for you,” Azelia says. “Now, when your fiancé called, he made it very clear that there is no budget. Is that correct?”
“Oh, I didn’t know that.”
“You lucky, lucky woman,” Azelia says. “I can’t tell you how many women come here to try on their dream dress and their dream dress is always two or three thousand above their set aside budget.”
I’m sure that’s more of a problem for you than for them, I want to say. But I keep my mouth shut. This woman is just trying to be nice. I shouldn’t take out my bad mood on her.
“Okay, to be honest, I’m a bit out of my element here,” I say. “But is there really such a big difference between one dress and another? I mean, I’ve seen dresses that cost like seven thousand. That’s crazy to me.”
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