by Shyla Colt
“Shit!” He ran to her side and rolled her over. The maroon stain that covered her jeans made him nauseous. He pulled out his phone and called 911. “Yes, I need an ambulance immediately. I came home and found my girlfriend unconscious on the floor. I’m not sure what happened, but there’s blood all over her jeans.”
“Are you able to revive her sir?”
He tapped her face gently.
Her eyelids fluttered open.
“Easy baby, don’t move. Yes ma’am, she’s conscious now.”
“See if you can get her talking sir.”
“What happened?”
“T-the b-baby,” she rasped.
Pan’s stomach twisted into an even bigger knot. “Ma’am, she just informed me she’s
pregnant.”
“How far along?”
“How far along,” Pan repeated.
“Eleven weeks,” she whispered.
“Eleven weeks.”
“We’re sending someone right now sir. Keep her warm and calm.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Pan hung up and gazed at her. “I’m going to get you a blanket.”
Lark stared up at the ceiling. Tears ran down her face.
How long has she known? Pan grabbed the navy blanket off the back of the couch and placed it over her body. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he whispered.
She sobbed. “T-that’s why we were going to dinner Friday—night.”
Pan closed his eyes. She wanted to surprise me. “It’s going to be okay. Everything will be fine.” The gut wrenching sobs that slipped from her lips told him she knew he was lying.
The ride to the hospital was a blur of sirens, stats and prayer. He hadn’t known he wanted a family unit until now. The thought of watching his little bird with child pleased him. He could have happiness. So I can fuck it up, like I do with everything else? The small voice in his brain nagged him.
Larks’ cries of pain—silenced it.
They pulled up to the hospital and he watched, completely helpless as they rushed her away and left him to fill out insurance papers.
Ages later, he walked into her hospital room. She looked so small lying in the bed. I guess I know why she lost all the weight. He sank down in the chair beside her and held her hand. The doctor hadn’t informed him of anything other than the fact that she was stable. Fucking hospital policies. But the sorrow in the older mans’ kind grey eyes told him all he needed to know. It wasn’t meant to be. Why would you think for one moment you’d be allowed to have true happiness? She probably only came back because of the baby. The thought ate at him. The demons in his mind were having a flaming field day. He wanted to bang his head against the wall and scream, anything to quiet the words slicing him to ribbons on the inside. Maybe I’m cursed.
Maybe being with Lark is the worst thing I could do for her. She was right to be hesitant and now, there’s nothing holding her.
She stirred in her sleep, mumbling as she moved about in the bed.
Pan leaned over the bed and stroked her cheek.
Her eyelids fluttered open. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
He closed his eyes against the pain that collapsed on him like a boulder. Hearing it made it more real somehow. “It’s not your fault baby.”
“I wanted it to be a surprise. The icing on the cake.” Her voice wavered.
“Why didn’t you tell me before?”
“I didn’t want it to interfere with our reunion.”
“Is that why you come back?” He asked, feeling the joy seep from his life with every second that ticked past.
“No. That’s exactly what I didn’t want you to think,” she protested.
Her monitors beeped in warning.
“Hey.” He grabbed her hand and squeezed it. “Calm down.”
“This isn’t how I wanted this to happen.” She sobbed. “I fucked everything up. I should’ve taken better care of myself.”
“Hey. No, this isn’t on you. These things happen sometimes.”
“Our baby is gone. We’ll never know if it was a boy or a girl. What they would’ve looked like.”
Pan stood and gathered her in his arms, holding her close as he took on her own pain. “I’m sorry baby.”
“I never should’ve left.” She cried.
“Shhh.” He kissed her forehead. “You did what you needed to. It wasn’t meant to be.” He held it together, allowing her to vent and rage. Tonight, he’d break down alone. For now, she was his number one concern. When she quieted, he pulled back and brushed the strands of hair and tears from her face. He grabbed a tissue from the bedside table and wiped her nose. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for this woman in front of him. Which is why you need to let her go.
Not now, when she needs your support, but a bit by bit. The thought made him sick to his stomach. The image of her unhappy and in pain, damn near destroyed him. She didn’t belong in this life with him. Even the universe knew it. “What did the doctor say?”
“He said sometimes these things happen, usually before the woman even realizes she’s
pregnant. He’s running tests, but he said from what he saw there was nothing physically wrong with me.”
“That’s good news right?”
“It doesn’t feel like it right now.”
“I can understand that. I’m just glad you’re okay.” He lifted her hand and kissed it.
She sniffled. “As long as we have each other I know it will be, eventually.”
The words were like a knife in his belly.
“He’s going to release me later with some antibiotics and birth control.”
“I think that’d be a good idea,” he admitted.
Lark looked up at him and the misery in her eyes fileted his soul. Step one of letting the woman go, who you know deserves better. “Do you want me to call someone?”
“No. No one else knew. I didn’t want anyone, but you to find out first.” She squeezed his hand. “I don’t want to tell them.”
“Then we won’t.” He kissed her forehead.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
He inclined his head unable to speak around the lump in his throat as he studied her face, memorizing every line.
The next day, they returned to the house, where he feed, medicated and settled her into bed.
Then he moved on to the hardest part—cleaning the blood. His stomach churned as he knelt down with a towel, hot soapy water and bleach. He scrubbed the blood away knowing he’d never be able to cleanse the memory of what he’d lost and the vision of her lying so still on the ground.
His mind flickered back to his mother. His last memory of her had been far too similar. The images blurred and joined, locking him in a waking nightmare.
Pan dropped the rag in the bucket and rushed to his faithful friend. It took him a few
attempts to open the bottle with his hand shaking so badly. He drank the amber liquid straight from the container, chugging like a frat boy on Spring Break. The numbing hit and he relished the relief…From reality.
Hours later, a cry in the night woke him from his slumber on the couch. “Lark.” He got up and staggered down the hall to the bedroom. He clicked on the light.
She sat up in bed breathing heavily.
Pan sat beside her on the bed. “Hey. You’re okay, you’re here with me.”
“God, I was hoping it was all a nightmare.”
“I wish it was,” he whispered.
She narrowed her eyes and sniffed at him.
The disappointment in her brown eyes made him look down. Step two: disgust her.
“Oh, Hartley, what did you do?”
“You deal with things your way and I’ll deal with them mine. If you need anything you
know I’m here.”
“I need you.”
“And you have me.”
She shook her head. “No, as long as you continue on like this, I don’t.”
“It’s the only way I know how to be,” he admitted.
Lark
laid back on the bed. “I’m okay now. I’m going to try to go back to sleep.” She rolled over, giving him her back.
Pan knew then, he’d begun the destruction process. She’ll be better off for this.
Chapter Eleven
Outside looking in, things seemed perfect. But on the inside, the cracks in the wall were growing. Pan made sure she took her medicine, held her when she cried and reassured her the miscarriage hadn’t been her fault. It should’ve been bringing them closer together as they both healed.
It wasn’t.
With every day that passed, he drifted further away on a tide of alcohol and self-loathing. He didn’t heal because he refused to deal with it. Every night, he drank himself into a stupor and passed out on the couch. She’d let it go for the first couple of months, because she couldn’t afford to help anyone else. It was all she could not to drown under the weight of everything thrown her way.
The day she couldn’t get out of bed to do more than use the bedroom between crying jags, she opted to get help. A month of three days of therapy had her on the road to recovery and firmly back in the land of the living. She’d spent her entire life in the shadows, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Lark coped with their mother’s failings by trying to take her place. No matter what she told herself, deep down she’d always thought, if she loved Robin hard enough, long enough, she’d change. It was ridiculous. But the mind had a funny way of compensating for things. She understood that now. The same way she recognized, Pan couldn’t help himself. She would not be an enabler again, nor would she sacrifice her happiness for another. So, she was pulling out the big guns. She walked into the clubhouse to gasps and stares. She’d never made a trip here before, but she was on the approved list. Some brothers made sure their old ladies couldn’t get past the gates. Given what she knew, she couldn’t blame them.
Her gaze scanned the smoky room for Pan. He’d been on a bender all weekend. That shit
stopped now.
Monster trailed behind her, ready to be her back up.
Lark found her man, slumped at the end of the bar with an empty whiskey bottle in front of him. Fury engulfed her, setting fire to her insides. She grabbed the bottle and threw it onto the ground.
Pan jumped.
“How dare you!”
“Whaaa?” he slurred. “Little Bird, what you doing here?”
“Saving your ass. You put this before us. Why?”
He smiled goofily. “To get us here faster.”
“Where’s here?”
“To the end of the line. You’re so much better off on your own.”
The words made her ache. “How could you even think that?”
“Just like my mom woulda been better and Monster. Not gonna ruin you too.”
“Oh, hell no, it’s not that easy between us. You think you get to steal my heart, bring me to life, tell me we’re forever and then cop out? You need help and that’s what you’re going to get wither you want it or not!”
“What are you talking about?” he snapped.
“Monster.” She stepped back and his brother took her place.
“You’re going to dry out and see someone about this fucked up head space you’ve got. I let it go on for far too long.”
Pan snickered. “You and what army?”
“This one,” Demon added his presence.
Pan’s face paled. “D—demon what?”
“You’re no good to anyone like this. I tried to give you a chance to get yourself together.
But I see now, you can’t do it on your own. I am my brother’s keeper and that means if you’re weak…I’m weak. You’re broken; then I need to fix you. Monster, get his left side.” Demon grabbed his right. “As your President, I’m ordering your ass to rehab and counseling. You got shit in your head that’s eating you from the inside out. When it starts to affect everything around you…it becomes my problem and we all know how I feel about that.”
“What? No you can’t do this!” Pan yelled.
His anguished cried gutted her.
“You fucking bitch. You had no right. You ain't even my ole lady.”
“Shut the fuck up!” Monster roared.
She understood addiction was the devil’s tongue. It made people say things they didn’t mean and wouldn’t remember. Crossing her arms over her waist, she reminded herself this was the right course of action to take.
Chase walked over and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “You did the right thing,
girl.”
“Then why does it feel so wrong?”
“Because no one likes to see the one they love in pain. Come on, let’s get out of here. I think a change of scenery and some food could do you good.”
“Yeah,” she whispered, allowing herself to be lead off. The sound of Pans ramblings would forever be etched in her brain. Please tell me I got him the help he needed soon enough. Let this take. She was counting on his love for her and the counselors at Arbor Heights to heal what was raw and bleeding inside him. I’ve done all I can. Now, the rest is up to him. She chanted the words of her therapist in her mind as she walked out into the sunlight. Not even the ninety-degree weather could take away the chill that had settled into her bones. It would be a hellishly long ninety days.
“I’ll drive,” Chase said. She hit the FOB and opened her door. Like a puppet, Lark entered the passenger seat and stared after the black SUV that took Pan away. Chase fastened her seatbelt. The click of the buckle brought her back to the present.
“It’s okay. I don’t expect you to spill your guts. I just don’t think you should be alone.”
Chase patted her shoulder.
Lark smiled. They’d grown closer since the birthday party. She’d checked up on her at her apartment, delivering much needed doses of estrogen to what Chase referred to as a sausage fest.
“Thank you,” Lark said.
“Fuck what Pan said. You’re family and nothing can change that.”
The words soothed the sting.
The days dragged on. She continued to live in Pan’s house, clinging to the memories made there to keep her going as she went through the motions of living, even though everything was on hold. She had no clue how he’d take to rehab, or how his feelings would change. Essentially, he could come out an entirely different person. There was no telling what that would mean for them. It was the right thing to do. She’d never regret her decision. If he came out on his way to being healthy and whole, it would be worth going their separate ways if necessary. As much as the thought ripped her to shreds.
The hardest part about rehabilitation, other than the detox and delving into his painful past, was not being able to talk to his little bird. He couldn’t even remember what he’d said to her when they hauled him out, but the look of horror and hurt was seared onto the back of his eyelids. Every time he thought of giving up the struggle for wellness, he remembered that and his brother. They both deserved more from him than he’d been giving. Even more though, he wanted to know himself. Who he truly was behind the mask of humor and light-heartedness.
He’d been lying to himself and everyone else for so long, he’d gotten lost. Each day, he worked through his issues he caught a glimpse of the stranger and regained a piece of his shattered soul. In the end, the mirror he put back together would be cracked, warped and never anything handsome. But it would be an entire reflection. He would be a man who could function.
At thirty days sober, he didn’t miss the alcohol, or the escape it provided. He had coping skills and a conscience that was becoming clearer and clearer. To crucify himself daily for something he did when he was so young in an impossible situation was insanity. He understood that now. He’d passed up the opportunity to see or talk to anyone other than Demon. He wanted to continue his treatment in radio silence. This time was for him.
At sixty days, he took to writing weekly letters. He’d never been a man of many words.
Sharing his emotions verbally didn’t come easy. But he c
ould write, so he did. It was all about expressing himself and allowing the people who meant the most to see it, at least that’s what the doc told him. He wouldn’t go as far to say he enjoyed his time with the headshrinker, but the man helped. The first letter he received back from Lark had made his heart sing.
Hartley,
I can’t express how much your letter meant to me. Thank you for including me in your healing process. I won’t lie and say the words you spoke to me were forgotten. We both know that’s not how these things work. But I will say they were forgiven, nearly the moment they left your lips. I understand addiction and hurt. Perhaps that’s why we we’re such a good pair. I know you’re worried about the changes, but people are changing every day, the key is to grow together. I believe we’re both doing that. We entered this relationship with enough baggage to fill a cargo ship. Now, slowly but surely, we’re trading it in and becoming the people we never knew we could be.
When I said I would never leave you, I meant that. My place is with you now. That means for better or worse. In my mind, we’ve all but said the vows. I’m in our home, making it a little more mine every day, the way you suggested months ago. I miss you. Going to sleep without you and waking up to find your side of the bed cold is difficult. Yet, it’s nothing in comparison to the pride I feel. You’re taking back your life. I admire you for that. I am counting down the days until we can be together again. We’ll be better, stronger and so much happier for this.
Forever your little bird,
Lark
He’d re-read the letter so many times he knew it by memory. Better, Stronger and happier.
That was his end game.
Day 90…
This was the most important graduation day he’d ever have. He’d made it through
rehabilitation, attended every class required, let the shrink pick his brain. He’d painted, did yoga and walked outside to commune with nature. It sounded like some pussy shit, but damn did he feel good. Now, he was waiting for the people who meant the most, Monster and Lark were coming to pick him up.
“Hartley, your family is here.” The pretty brunette nurse gave him a bright smile.