"My wife is not a whore," Travis shouted. "This ends tonight, Grant. Either you bury him or I will. My way will be messier."
"It's going to take some time. So far my investigator has found him sleeping with his biggest investor's wife. We think we have the makings of tax fraud and illegal political campaign contributions, but we need more time to make our case solid before it's turned over to the feds. I know this is hard on you, but I need you to be patient a little while longer." Grant's tone was harsh yet empathetic. I knew he felt bad for us. I also knew, courtesy of Elizabeth and Travis, he was going out of his mind wanting to teach Ashton a lesson of the physical variety. The only thing that would calm him down once he got worked up about it was his son's incessant kicking of Elizabeth's stomach. It was rather endearing.
I gritted my teeth against the sharp stab of pain in my stomach. The scary reality was the pain was worsening, and I knew without a doubt that it was the start of a miscarriage. It would be too coincidental for it not to be.
Travis gave me a concerned look when I placed my hand on the sideboard in his office and took a few deep breaths against the pain. I waved off his concern and addressed Grant. "Do me a favor and tell your guy to speed it up. I can't have him continually ruining my life. First acting, now teaching. What's next? Your Personal Concierge? I can't let him ruin what Elizabeth worked so hard to build."
"Don't worry. I won't let it get to that—for your sake and hers. I better get going. The snow is falling harder and I need to get home. Call me if anything else turns up." He kissed my forehead and shook Travis' hand.
I stayed behind when Travis walked him out. Collapsing in a chair, I doubled over at a fresh wave of cramps.
"Jesus Christ, Maya," Travis cursed when he came back and found me in a fetal position.
"It's happening," I brokenly whispered and turned teary eyed to my husband. I shouldn't have looked. If I hadn't I wouldn't have seen the look of overwhelming heartbreak on his face before he wiped it clean. "I'm not sure how much more I can take, Travis."
Taking me in his arms, he carried me to the bedroom. Sitting me on the bed, he helped me change into pajamas before he went and got a hot compress, glass of water and two Tylenol. I gave him a questioning look as I set the water down and arranged the compress on my stomach.
"I did some research," he said with a shrug and climbed into bed with me. "I wanted to be prepared."
"I'm glad one of us was," I choked out right before I cried myself to sleep.
Chapter Fifteen
I couldn't bring myself to get out of bed the next morning. It hurt too much and my spirits were too low.
I heard Travis speaking lowly into the phone with Elizabeth, asking her if she could log into my online calendar and handle my appointments for the day since I wasn't feeling well. I was thankful that he decided not to tell her the truth.
When he padded into the bedroom before it was time for him to leave, I kept my eyes closed and pretended to be sleeping. I wasn't ready to talk to him. I knew it made me a bitch for closing him out, but I needed some time to think and take stock of my options.
I stayed silently in bed until I heard the rustling of his suit coat. The bed dipped by my middle where his hand pressed into the mattress and I felt his warm lips graze my forehead.
Once the front door closed and I knew he was gone, I slowly rose from bed and made it into the bathroom. I followed my normal morning routine and tried to ignore the ache of my body along with what it meant.
I padded out to the kitchen and poured myself a cup of coffee before sitting at the table. Picking up the phone, I twirled it around in front of me knowing that I needed to make the call to my doctor. Something about saying what needed to be said out loud made it real and I wasn't ready for real. I didn't know if I'd ever be ready for it actually.
It didn't matter to me that so many women experienced the same loss I was going through. It didn't matter to me that their hearts broke too. And it certainly didn't matter to me that they found a way to go on. As I stood at the end of a deep, black chasm that was opened in front of me, all I wanted to do was take that last step off the ledge and into nothingness. I wanted to feel numb and for the physical and emotional pain to go away.
Completely wussing out after two cups of coffee were consumed, I left the phone on the table and went into the nursery. First order of business was putting the gifts from Travis away in the closet. I felt dead inside and didn't want to look at them. For now they were a reminder of my loss and my failure. It was too much for me to bear, which meant they needed to get tucked away where I could forget they existed.
I sat in the antique rocking chair that stood alone in the empty room and watched the snow as it fell outside. It was a cold and gray day. There was no doubt about that as I watched the world go on outside while inside mine was ending. Or at least the world I wanted so desperately was once again moving just outside of my reach.
I'm not sure how long I ultimately sat there for. All I know is I found a strange peace in being there. It was the type of peace that you knew would be fleeting, but yet you tried to grab onto it like a lifeline anyway. It wasn't until the sun began to dip below the horizon that I finally forced myself to move, knowing that this was no longer my sanctuary. It might never be. For all I knew, I would always loathe that room and what it represented.
Standing in the doorway to the nursery, I turned around and gave it one last enviable look before shutting the door. It would be the last time I would go in that room for a long time.
* * *
Once a woman miscarries, she becomes a source of comfort for other unfortunate women who experience the same fate. That is how I found myself at a coffee shop commiserating with a woman named Irene.
Irene and I had met earlier that week at the doctor's office. While it had been nearly two weeks since I lost my baby, poor Irene was still experiencing the pain.
Even though I had walled off my emotions after "the incident" as I had dubbed it, I still felt for her. As I listened to her speak, I wondered if my eyes held the same sadness I saw in hers, and if my soul seemed as broken as hers when others looked at me. I knew that was probably how Travis saw me—broken and fragile. It was why I found myself pulling away from him. It didn't matter how close he tried to get, I kept a wall between us. I couldn't allow him into my darkness. I couldn't let him see how badly I hurt inside. He could do so much better than a pathetic woman like me. I think that's what hurt the worst, knowing I wasn't good enough for him; that I couldn't give him everything he ever wanted.
I couldn't drag him down the black hole with me. I just couldn't.
"My cousin, Lucy, had the nerve to tell me that I shouldn't let having a miscarriage affect me. She went on and on about how she had suffered so many that she lost count. She never internalized a single loss, whereas her sister, Dora, did. Apparently Dora remembering the date of each one made her weak and stupid. I was so mad I ended up hanging up on her. I just couldn't take her diatribe one more minute."
"I know what you mean. I heard a woman talking one day with her friend on the subway. They were discussing abortions and miscarriages. Her friend had a miscarriage and she actually tried to high five her that she didn't need an abortion. I was disgusted. There are so many women out there dying to have children and then skanks like that get pregnant without even trying," I ranted.
"So true... I'm really glad you agreed to meet me."
"It's nothing," I assured her.
Irene took a bite of her cinnamon bun and looked at me thoughtfully for a moment. "Did you have anyone to talk to when it happened?"
"No." I shook my head.
"Bummer. You know I'm here to talk to if you want. I'm not a complete attention whore. I won't mind if we talk about you every now and again," she joked and I had a feeling her pain meds were kicking in thanks to the wonky grin on her face.
"Thanks, but I'm good. I've made my peace with it." It was the same thing I had told Travis and the doctor. At this point,
I wasn't sure if I was trying to convince them or me. Either way, I desperately tried not to allow myself to dwell on it for fear that the hurt might cripple me. Everyone said I was strong, so strong is what I let people see. Even when I felt like I was withering up inside.
"I better get going. I'm starting to feel good, if you know what I mean." She laughed louder and way harder than I think she intended to. When she sobered she gave me a shy smile. "Sorry about that."
"Please. I know the joys of prescription strength painkillers. Let me split a cab with you so I know you'll get home okay."
"Thank you."
I followed Irene out to the curb where I hailed us a cab. She slid in the backseat first and I went to follow suit. With one foot in the door, I froze at the sight of Ashton and Travis walking out of a restaurant together.
"You getting in lady or what?" The cab driver barked at me and I took one last look as they spoke to each other on the street before sliding in next to Irene.
As the cab drove away, I watched them together until we turned a corner.
What the fuck was that all about?
* * *
When Travis got home later that night, I was fit to be tied. After the cab dropped Irene off, I had texted him to see if he was available. He lied and told me he was in a meeting with some investors. The last thing Ashton would ever be was an investor. He was far too stingy with his wealth. Besides, Travis would much rather spit on his shoes than do business with Ashton.
"Travis," I greeted him when he entered the kitchen.
"You've been drinking," he unnecessarily pointed out seeing as how there was an empty bottle of wine sitting on the table in front of me.
"Where were you?" I asked, trying to keep my voice level, even though inside my anger was a raging inferno.
"I was at work." He gave me a questioning look and turned on his heel and walked away. He never walked away from me.
I got up and quickly followed, finding him in the bedroom changing out of his suit.
"You were at work at three o'clock this afternoon?" I pushed.
He had his back to me as he unbuttoned his dress shirt. At my question, he froze in his task briefly before finishing opening the buttons.
"What were you doing this afternoon, Travis?" I punctuated each word.
He sighed and laid his shirt on the chair. Walking away from me, he headed towards his walk-in closet and grabbed a sweater from a shelf. I stood in the doorway to the closet and crossed my arms. Each minute that ticked by only served to fuel my rage.
"Answer me, damn it!" I yelled at him.
He spun around and pinned me with a glare. It was quickly replaced with a look of concern followed by pity. "You should really quit this new drinking habit you seemed to have picked up. I'm getting concerned about the lack of care you're showing yourself since the miscarriage."
My mouth dropped open, and I took a step back. I didn't want to talk about me, and I sure as hell didn't want his pity. "Don't make this about me. I know you lied to me earlier. I saw you!"
"So what?" He lobbed back. "Don't you think there are more important things to worry about? Like your health? Or the fact that no matter how nice I am to you, you throw insult after insult at me?"
I stomped over to him and drilled into his chest with my finger. "This isn't about me! You're so high and mighty about me lying to you. Looks like you aren't so damn perfect after all."
Travis grabbed my finger and brought my hand down to my side before releasing it. "Don't start this, Maya. You've been trying to pick a fight with me for weeks now. I'll only be your punching bag for so long before something needs to change."
"You lied to me," I repeated with a scathing tone.
"Fine. You want to know what I was doing?"
"Yes!" I screamed in his face.
"I was trying to take care of my fucking family! Grant called to let me know that some reporter, Alicia Blackstone, called to tell him that someone was shopping around a sex tape of you," he screamed back.
"What?" I cried out, taken aback by his words. "How the hell did she know it was me?"
"Apparently Grant had put feelers out in case Ashton pulled a stunt like this. She called to let him know. Ever since she wrote that article about Elizabeth being a money hungry slut, she's been trying to stay in Grant's good graces."
"So how did that lead to you and Ashton having lunch together?"
He gave me an incredulous look. "I didn't have lunch with him. I met him at the restaurant bar because I knew we needed to be in public where he couldn't fabricate a story afterwards. This way we had witnesses."
"Witnesses to what? You didn't hit him did you?" I steadied my hand on the wall, imagining Travis fighting over me. Maybe it was the wine making me feel lightheaded, but I didn't want to be the reason Travis did anything stupid.
"No. All I did was tell him to leave you the fuck alone or I was going to make sure he knew what it was like to be scared and defenseless like he left you before."
I gasped at his insinuation. "You threatened him?"
"Yes, and I'd do it again." He crossed his arms and gave me a defiant stare.
"Did you come right out and say you were going to hurt him, Travis?" My hazy, mostly drunk mind was spinning with the implications that would come from that.
"It doesn't matter. I don't want to discuss this anymore. I'm going to do whatever I have to in order to make you safe. This shit has to stop. Grant says he should know more about an indictment against Ashton after the holidays. I didn't want to wait that long. The more time he has to fuck with us, the harder it's going to be to contain it."
"Holy shit." I plopped down on the bed and looked up at Travis. "Was he able to sell the tape?"
"Grant told Alicia to make him an offer but to string it out until after Christmas."
"Will that work?" I was skeptical that she could play Ashton for that long. He wasn't stupid.
"Damned if I know." Travis let out an exhausted sigh and scrubbed his hands over his face. "Let's just take this one day at a time and get through the holidays."
"Okay." That seemed like a decent enough plan for now. It's not as if I had anything better.
"We need to talk about your newfound self-destruction." Travis sat on the bed next to me and grabbed my hand, pulling me back down when I jumped and tried to move away.
"There's nothing to talk about," I said with a blistering tone.
"Yes, there is," he argued. "I will not lose you to this. Do you hear me? I get that you're devastated by what happened. I am too. You need to let me in, Maya. Talk to me about what's going on inside that head of yours. We can't be islands in this. We need to heal each other. I promised you I wouldn't let you fall apart, but I can't help you if you won't let me. I've been going crazy watching you drink every night until you pass out."
"I'm fine," I told him.
"No, you're not. I miss my wife. I wouldn't feel that way if you weren't closing yourself off from me."
"I don't know what you want, Travis. I'm doing the best I can right now. You're going to have to give me that." Eventually I could probably open up to him but right then the pain was still too raw. If I talked about it, I would break down again. If that happened, I was afraid I wouldn't be able to stop and that depression would completely pull me under. I didn't want to be an even bigger disappointment to Travis. I wanted him to look at me and see a strong woman who could weather a storm. Someone he could be proud of. Not some weak, pathetic person who couldn't take care of herself.
"Please try," he pleaded. I desperately wanted to take his worry away, but that would be admitting to everything I was feeling. I couldn't do that.
When I didn't answer right away, he lowered his head in defeat and walked towards the bathroom. I was taken aback by his lack of fight. I thought he'd be more tenacious about getting me to open up. A small part of me was disappointed, while the other part was relieved I wouldn't need to discuss my feelings. I knew if I didn't purge all the negativity bottled up inside me
, it would ultimately consume me. The problem was I felt powerless and didn't have the drive to stop it from happening.
"Travis," I called out. He turned around and looked at me with hope in his eyes while he waited for me to continue. I didn't know what to say. I hadn't planned on stopping his retreat and the longer he waited for me to speak, the more disappointment and uncertainty I saw on his face. Knowing I needed to say something, all my mind could conjure up was, "I'm sorry."
He shook his head and gave me a sad smile. "Me too."
When I heard the shower turn on, I cried the first set of tears I had allowed myself since the day I realized I was miscarrying.
Chapter Sixteen
My feet ached as I stumbled into our penthouse apartment on Christmas Eve. We had just spent the evening at my in-law's apartment across town celebrating the holiday. Overall, it was a fun evening if you didn't include my mother-in-law's jibes about wanting grandchildren and her not so subtle attempts to tell me that she was blaming me for the absence of them. She was unaware of our recent miscarriage, but the words stung nonetheless.
What hurt worse than her words was the fact that even though Travis grimaced a few times, he never stuck up for me. Not once did he put her in her place and tell her to let it go. He left to me to the wolves with his cluelessness, which only served to drive my need to drink and numb myself. My being inebriated then served to add to Travis' recent ire with me.
It was a never ending circle we were in. The angrier he got, the more I drank. The more I drank, the angrier he got.
I tried numerous times to break the cycle. I'd be good for a day and stay sober, spending time laughing and talking with Travis. Then lying in bed, I would cry myself to sleep after Travis dozed off. The next day, I'd find myself under a dark cloud and unable to handle the pressure I was feeling. That would be when I would turn to alcohol. Travis would come home, optimistic after my behavior the day before, only to be disappointed by the woman he found. Those were the days we ended up arguing and he would go to bed alone, while I stayed up and nursed a bottle.
Forever Your Concierge Page 14