Heart of Us

by Emma Browne

  ‘And she said that she didn’t want to be the reason that I ended up stuck in Edinburgh.’ I sighed. ‘She had a whole bunch of crap reasons.’

  ‘You know, it’s okay to be sad about the miscarriage. And it’s okay to be disappointed about the past.’ Michael looked me in the eye. ‘But don’t make Miranda out to be a villain when she was trying her best.’

  I hung my head. ‘Yeah.’

  We put out the fire soon after that and went to bed. For a few moments, I looked at the ultrasound picture. I couldn’t tell which part of it was baby and which part was anything else, but when I looked at it, my throat constricted, and I struggled to breathe. I put it away and stared at the camping pod ceiling for hours, listening to Michael snore and thinking about how unfair life was.

  Michael was right. I was angry and sad and disappointed and hurt. But if blame had to be apportioned, it should be placed on me.

  Not on Miranda.

  As much as I hated that she hadn’t told me about the baby, I hated even more that I hadn’t been there for her. And I hated that the choices I had made back then still continued to haunt me.

  I needed help.

  The following Monday morning, I called a counsellor and set up an appointment.

  Chapter 34

  Miranda

  After telling Jack about my miscarriage, I locked the door and went to bed. I fell asleep quickly but had weird dreams all night and woke up with a headache. I spent the day at work going through the motions and trying to distract myself from all the thoughts of Jack, whilst also trying to avoid seeing Angus. I didn’t want to see him when I was so confused, especially after the awkwardness of the cheek kiss.

  When I got home to my empty house, I warmed up some lentil soup for dinner and took a cup of tea to bed. I tossed and turned, and tried counting sheep, but although I was exhausted, sleep wouldn’t come. Instead, all the thoughts and feelings caught up with me.

  I thought of Jack’s reaction to my telling him about the miscarriage, and I felt increasingly confused. I remembered the look of pain on his face when he realised that I was telling the truth, and I wished then I hadn’t told him. I wished I had spared him the knowledge.

  Even so, another part of me felt relieved at finally having told him, as that part of me had thought all along that he had a right to know. I also felt relief at the thought of there being someone else in the world that knew. For so long, I had carried the miscarriage as a secret. I had been afraid to let it go. It had come to represent all my dreams dying, and by clinging on to it, I remembered that life – and God – were not on my side. It reminded me not to take risks, because the outcome would only lead to heartbreak.

  And now Jack had backed off, perhaps forever. And that was a good thing. If telling him about the baby was what was required to get him to finally give up on the idea of us getting together, then I felt justified.

  The problem with that was that I missed him. I missed knowing that he believed in us, even though I had always known our relationship was doomed.

  Now he knew, though, and knowing he finally accepted that we were never getting back together… hurt.

  I told myself that I had gotten over him once, and therefore getting over him this time would be easier. But a part of me knew that I had never really gotten over him. And I wondered if I ever really would. Maybe some people, like swans, were bonded for life.

  Though I wasn’t sure exactly why, I dug out the necklace with the engagement ring from the drawer of my bedside table, where it had laid for years. I pulled it over my head again and looked at the ring, remembering all the hope I had felt when Jack had given it to me. I tucked it under my clothes as a reminder of how foolish I had been. Maybe wearing the necklace would stop me from doing something stupid, like calling Jack and…

  No. I patted the ring under my clothes. It was best we stayed away from each other.

  I spent the next few weeks avoiding people, mainly Jack – which wasn’t that hard, as he had moved out of his parents’ house and into the flat in Duddingston we had been to see – but also everybody else. I didn’t know who Jack might tell about the miscarriage or how they would react. Jack’s parents had been like parents to me, especially after Mum died, and I worried they would feel hurt by me.

  Instead, I stayed away and put my head down at work, spending my evenings doing overtime or swimming in the Commonwealth Pool. Despite the awkward cheek kiss, I was still planning on doing the Edinburgh Toughest race with Angus in April and needed to keep fit. Or so I told myself.

  But instead of pushing myself to perform better in the pool, I found myself in the slow lane, thinking.

  Though I had enjoyed the idea of dating, I now felt it was better to wait, and Angus had seemed fine with the idea of just being friends. I didn’t want to spend my life alone, but the idea of a relationship with anyone other than Jack no longer held any appeal. So, I threw myself into work and exercise and little else. By focussing on my job, I ensured job security, and I convinced myself that was enough.

  Project Cup was a nice project to have on the side, but now I knew I couldn’t throw my job away to invest my time into it. I didn’t need to take risks in my life. I just needed stability and security.

  Sophia had been over quite a bit in the last few weeks, and I knew she was wondering what was going on. I hadn’t told her much, except that Jack had finally realised we weren’t going to be getting back together. So far, she had allowed me to pretend everything was fine. But about two weeks after my date with Angus, we were having dinner when she raised her eyebrows in expectation. ‘Are you ready to tell me what’s going on with you and Jack yet?’

  Though part of me wanted to deny that there was anything going on, I wondered what it would be like to be free of the secrecy. Maybe it was time. I put down my glass of water and decided to just come out with it. ‘If you’re wondering why Jack never comes over anymore, it’s because I let him know about how I was pregnant when he left for Hong Kong and miscarried a few weeks later.’

  Sophia dropped her fork into her food. ‘What?’

  ‘I said, if you’re wondering why…’

  ‘No, I heard you. I just…’ She frowned. ‘Why didn’t you tell us?’

  Avoiding her eyes, I said, ‘I found out after Jack broke up with me, and I didn’t know how to tell him without seeming like the manipulative ex who got herself knocked up in order to keep the guy around. But I miscarried before I could tell him, and then I figured there was no point in telling him at all. And if I wasn’t going to tell him, it didn’t seem fair to tell anyone else either. You know?’

  Sophia’s frown deepened. ‘You didn’t tell anybody?’

  ‘Mum knew. But otherwise, no. I didn’t tell anyone.’

  ‘And then your Mum died just a few months later.’

  ‘Uh-huh.’ I snorted. ‘It was a shitty year.’

  ‘Yeah, no kidding.’ She shook her head. ‘I’m sorry you went through all that. And I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you better then.’

  I busied myself with my food. ‘Don’t worry about it. You were busy and you couldn’t have known.’

  Sophia reached across the table and took my hand until I looked up at her. ‘No, I’m really sorry. You shouldn’t have had to go through all that on your own.’

  ‘I didn’t go through it all alone. You guys were there for me in lots of ways that year, and I’m so thankful for that. I was okay.’

  Sophia took another bite of salad before putting the fork down. ‘I’m confused, though. Why doesn’t Jack come over anymore?’

  I pressed my hand to my chest, finding the ring, which was there somewhere under my shirt, and looked at her. ‘Well, I think maybe he finally realised there is no future for us.’

  ‘And why is that?’

  ‘Well…’ I tilted my head. ‘I think he was pretty upset that I didn’t tell him about the baby. And then I think he realised that there wasn’t ever the level of trust between us that made us able to handle things like
this. And the truth is, that no matter how much two people love each other, if there’s no trust there, then it’s not going to work. Is it?’

  Sophia’s eyes narrowed. ‘Surely it’s about more than is the trust there or is it not? Surely there’s a level of taking risks and choosing to believe the best about the other person?’

  ‘Of course, but we also have to take into consideration the person’s character and their history. If they’ve already proven they’re not trustworthy, it would be stupid to take risks with them. Don’t you think?’

  Sophia nodded. ‘Sure, but people change.’

  ‘Do they?’

  ‘Yes! We’ve got to believe people can be better than what they were. That there is redemption available for us all.’

  ‘Uh-huh. Sure. I’m just saying I can’t take any more risks with Jack.’

  ‘That’s fair. But don’t then say that you’re through with him because he’s given up on you. He hasn’t. In fact, I saw him when he came back from Hong Kong, back in August - September. He wanted to show you how much he cared about you, and how he had taken the time and put in the effort to become someone he could be proud of. Someone who would be there for you.’ She threw her hand in the air, laying it out as though displaying evidence. ‘I think you have seen that he’s changed. Haven’t you?’

  I closed my eyes and thought about the ways Jack had surprised me over the last few months. How he had talked about how he felt or asked how I felt about things. How he had sought me out, instead of hiding from emotion. ‘Sure. It’s obvious he’s grown up since then. But that doesn’t mean he won’t go back to being who he used to be again. My dad is constantly swinging between being an alcoholic no one can rely on, and being the kindest, most fun person to be around. And I love my dad, but I can’t be in a relationship with someone like him.’

  ‘And Jack is like your dad because he didn’t stick around six years ago?’

  ‘Yeah.’ I bit my lip. ‘I guess so.’

  Sophia pulled her hands through her hair, stopping halfway through to tug at her roots. ‘Well, I guess you’ve got to make your choices. I’m just saying that you’re happier when you’re with him. Sometimes life is better with a little bit of risk.’

  ‘And sometimes, life is chaotic and depressing, and you end up full of anxiety because the person you love is unreliable, and you don’t know what he might do.’

  Exhaling, Sophia slumped back in her seat and looked out the window. ‘Yes.’ Her eyes went distant, and I wondered where she went.

  I reached out and touched her hand. ‘I’m just saying I can’t handle that.’

  Sophia looked at me, letting her eyes clear. ‘That’s fair enough. I’m sorry I pushed.’

  I smiled. ‘No, you’re allowed to push. I’m glad you do.’

  Chapter 35

  Jack

  After going camping with Michael, we went to pick up the keys for my new flat. Then Michael helped me move my things out whilst my parents were at church.

  It was a relief to move out of my parents’ house, as it meant I could avoid answering any of the questions they would have if they saw me now, and I didn’t have to worry about running into Miranda.

  Mum texted me asking if she could come see the flat, and I told her to hold off for a few days. If she came over, she would take one look at me and start asking questions.

  I wasn’t at a point yet where I had any answers that I wanted to share with anyone.

  I spent the next few days in a fog. It hurt that Miranda hadn’t let me be part of our baby’s life – short as it was – and that I hadn’t been allowed to mourn the death of our baby with her. But most of all it hurt to know she didn’t trust me enough to tell me.

  The logical part of me understood why she hadn’t told me back then. But I had been back for several months, and I had tried hard in that time to show her that I was different – trustworthy and stable – now.

  And still she hadn’t told me until she felt she absolutely had to.

  Now I agreed that there was no way Miranda and I could have a romantic relationship again. Relationships were overrated. Being that open with another person just led to heartache and I didn’t want to have any more of that. I would rather be strong and alone than weak and in pain.

  No, it was better that Miranda and I went our separate ways.

  Still, it felt like I was stumbling round in a perpetual fog. I missed her in ways I could never have imagined. I missed how she would say she wasn’t adventurous, but then push herself to do things she was afraid of – just because. I missed the way she wasn’t into drama but made decisions based on careful evaluation of how any potential outcome aligned with her values and principles. I missed the way she was committed to caring for people around her, and how she was steady and committed even when it meant having to deal with awful circumstances. And, maybe most of all, I missed her smile and the way she would look at me when she thought I didn’t know she was looking at me.

  Whenever I heard something funny, I would go to text her, before I realised what I was doing and put the phone away. Or Oasis would come on the radio, and instead of turning up the volume, I would change the station so I wouldn’t have to remember all the times we had listened to them together.

  I wondered if I would always feel a pang of grief whenever I heard a song by Oasis, or The Arctic Monkeys, or even David Bowie and Queen. And if I would forever be stuck listening to classical music from now on? My guitar sat in its box – I couldn’t bear to play anything.

  As I wasn’t spending my free time at Miranda’s any longer, I got myself a gym membership, and started getting up early every morning to go to the gym. I spent hours every week punching the boxing bags until every muscle ached and I couldn’t take it anymore. The boxing helped me handle the anger – and I found there was a lot of anger – but it also helped me think more clearly.

  In the evenings, I stayed late at work so I wouldn’t have to do much more than heat a microwave meal before dropping into bed.

  A few weeks later, Michael and I met at the pub to watch a Sunday night football match. It was a big game, but I was too distracted to get into it properly.

  ‘You still stewing over Miranda?’ Michael asked over his beer as the game went to half time.

  I looked away.

  ‘Do you still feel betrayed?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ I shrugged. Maybe I felt less betrayed now, but I felt sadder than I had before. ‘She should have told me – both back then and when I came back. But I’m starting to feel less angry at her. I’ve been thinking more about why she didn’t tell me, and I guess there’s a part of me that’s thankful she didn’t.’

  He narrowed his eyes. ‘Why?’

  ‘If she’d told me back then, I would have made it all worse.’

  Michael gave a wry smile. ‘How?’

  ‘If I’d found out about the baby before the miscarriage, I would have come home, and I would have married her. But…’ I looked at him. ‘Do you remember when Lisa got sick? Remember how sad everyone was?’

  He nodded.

  ‘Well, the reason I left then was that I couldn’t handle how everybody hurt over what she was going through. It made me feel so powerless that I couldn’t fix Lisa, and so I left. First, I tried to avoid talking about it, and whenever I couldn’t avoid hearing about it, I was cold and distant. Emotionally unavailable. And I could tell it was hurtful towards Miranda, but I couldn’t handle it.’ I ran my hands across my face and sighed. ‘I would have ended up hurting Miranda worse if I’d stayed than I did by leaving her. It was the same when my sister, Josie, died.’

  Michael set his drink down. ‘Uh-huh?’

  ‘I was sad about Josie dying, but I think the worst bit was that there was nothing I could do to fix it. Everyone was hurting, and there was nothing I could do about it. I hate feeling powerless. So, that’s why I went to counselling.’

  ‘Oh, yeah?’ Michael looked up from peeling the sticker off his beer bottle.

  ‘Yea
h.’ I shrugged. ‘I figured it was time I dealt with it, and I hoped that would make me a better person.’

  ‘Yeah, you said about how you thought you’d become a good person.’ Michael gave a wry smile. ‘And how did it help?’

  ‘My counsellor told me I needed to face my own pain in order to be able to handle other people’s emotions. So I processed Josie’s death and things like that, and I felt like I came to a place where I dealt with my grief over Josie, and I can handle being around other people that are in pain now. I never used to be able to handle other people’s emotions at all before.’ I shook my head. ‘But now, I don’t know that I even want to care at all. I think I’m better off just avoiding all this rubbish. I mean, how is this fair?’

  ‘I don’t reckon it’s fair at all.’ Michael studied me for a while before saying, ‘Have you asked yourself what God might think of all this?’

  I flinched. ‘Um, no.’

  ‘Well, what do you think he thinks?’

  ‘Mum would say something like, God never gives us more suffering than we can handle.’

  Michael snorted. ‘Yeah well, that’s a load of rubbish. Even Paul, in one of the letters to the Corinthians, talks about how he’s been under “great pressure, far beyond our ability to endure”.’ He made quotation marks with his fingers and went on. ‘But people like to say that, don’t they?’

  ‘Uh-huh.’ I took a sip of my beer. ‘They also like to say that God is all-powerful, and that’s why we can trust him. But if God is so powerful, then why doesn’t he stop all this suffering? Why would he think it’s reasonable that Miranda would have to go through all of that? Sophia was saying, even on Christmas Day, about how God is good, but how is it good to inflict all this suffering on anyone?’

  Michael bit the inside of his cheek as if to keep from speaking. Then he looked me in the eye. ‘Let’s do a thought experiment.’

  I sighed. ‘Okay?’

  ‘Say God wanted to have real relationship with people. What would be the better way of going about getting that: predestining their lives and controlling them, or giving them free will and allowing them to make real choices that have real consequences?’