The nurse checks Nova and steps back with a satisfied smile. “It’s time to get the doctor. You’re ready to push.”
Nova begins to cry. “I can’t do this.” She looks up at me with scared eyes. “This means it’s over.”
“Oh, Nova,” I breathe, brushing her sweaty hair off her forehead. “He’ll always be with us.”
“This isn’t fair,” she sobs. “What am I being punished for? Is it for abandoning my parents?”
“God, no.” I glide my finger down her cheek, her skin is smooth but damp. “Neither of us did anything to deserve this. Life had other plans for us, I guess.”
“Life can kiss my ass.”
I chuckle. There’s my girl.
“We’re going to get through this, I promise.”
She looks up at me and her lower lip trembles. “I wish you were right.”
Before I can ask her what she means, the doctor is in the room, pulling on gloves and sitting down.
I’m directed to hold one of Nova’s legs while the nurse holds the other.
“You can do this,” I tell Nova. “You’re the strongest person I know.”
She begins pushing and it isn’t long until the baby is out.
That precious cry you wait desperately to hear isn’t there and it isn’t coming. There’s solemnness in the air and it creates a heaviness, like the whole world is pressing upon our shoulders.
The doctor places the baby on Nova’s chest and she begins to cry harder than before. She touches him hesitantly, like she’s afraid to break him, though it would make no difference. He’s small, so small. He could fit in the palm of my hand, I’m sure of it. He has a smattering of dark hair, that I’m sure would’ve only grown more plentiful if he’d made it to full term. His fingers and toes are all there and tiny and completely perfect. Their nails already formed. His eyes are closed, his lips slightly parted. If I wanted, I could pretend he’s sleeping.
I didn’t realize it, but tears are streaming down my face.
I let go of Nova’s leg and lean against her, our heads bowed together as we look down at our son.
Tiny and perfect and ours.
Ours to protect.
Ours to cherish.
And now, ours to mourn.
The doctor lets me cut the umbilical cord and then takes the baby to clean him up. Nova protests, crying harder, and I’m sure she’s having flashbacks to Greyson being taken from her. This has to be much worse.
Beckett’s been taken forever.
I grab a tissue and dry her face of tears. She turns her red-rimmed eyes to mine.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m such a failure. I’m so—”
I press my lips to hers, silencing her apologies, but her lips are frozen beneath mine. When I pull away, confused, she turns her head in the other direction avoiding me.
Slipping.
Slipping.
Slipping.
No matter how hard I grip, I’m losing her.
Beckett is clean and wrapped in one of those blankets with the blue and white stripes with a little hat on his head. It barely fits and keeps slipping off. Nova clenches him close to her chest, her tears never ceasing. I don’t think mine have either, but I’m not aware of them.
The door cracks open and I see our friends, waiting hesitantly to be invited. I wave them inside.
Nova doesn’t look up or say anything to them, not that I expected her to.
I clear my throat. “Meet our son, Beckett.”
“He’s so small,” Thea whispers, creeping closer. “He looks like a little doll.”
“He’s perfect.”
Rae comes to my side and holds up her camera. “I thought you guys might want some pictures?” She frames it as a question.
“I hadn’t even thought of that,” I whisper, “but yes, we’d love some.”
Rae gives a small smile and nods.
Cade takes her place as she goes to take pictures of Nova and Beckett on the other side of the bed.
Cade claps my shoulder. “I know this doesn’t mean much, but I’m sorry, man.”
“Thanks.” I give him a forced smile.
Xander stays a way back, his eyes flicking from the baby to Thea, and I know what he’s thinking.
What if this was them?
I lean against the bed beside Nova, trying to get closer to her and Beckett. I’m surprised when she scoots over, making room for me in the bed.
I climb into the bed beside her, leaning against her. I reach my hand out, touching Beckett’s cheek. In the back of my mind I hear the click of Rae’s camera.
“He’s perfect,” Nova whispers.
I find one of his hands, touching his small fingers. His body is cool, the warmth from Nova’s long gone, but he still looks as if he’s sleeping.
“He has your lips,” Nova whispers.
I smile at her, though she’s not looking. “And your nose,” I add.
Nova brings him closer and presses her lips to his forehead. “I love you so much,” she whispers softly. I would think I’d imagined it if it weren’t for the fact that I watch her lips move.
“Can I hold him?” I ask.
She looks up at me with wary eyes, not wanting to let him go, but finally hands him over.
Like I thought, he’s small enough to fit in the palm of my hand. The doctor weighed him and he came in at a little over three pounds so he’s tiny.
He smells like a baby—sweet and slightly powdery. Everything about him is small, and like Nova said, perfect. It doesn’t seem right he’s gone before we even got to meet him.
I can feel Nova getting antsy beside me so I kiss his forehead, the hat he’s wearing falling onto the bed, and reluctantly give him back. She cradles him in her arms.
I hum a song I was working on for him—a lullaby I had planned to sing to lull him to sleep.
Time passes and our friends leave.
When the door opens next, it’s the nurse.
“It’s time for us to take him.”
Nova stiffens beside me. “No, no, you can’t take him.”
She squeezes him close, like she’s willing him to sink back into her body.
“I’m sorry, but—”
“No!” she shouts. I can feel her panic rising, thick and clogging the air. Her legs begin to thrash like she’s trying to get the blankets off and make a run for it with him.
“Nova,” I try to get her attention to talk her down.
“Get away!” she screams at me. “You can’t take him from me! He’s mine! I’m his mother! I have to keep him safe!” She begins panting as her panic kicks in full force.
“Nova, breathe,” I plead.
She shakes her head. “You’re on their side!”
I wince. “Never—I’m always on yours. Always.”
“He’s my baby! They can’t have them! He’s mine!”
“Nova,” I say harshly. “He’s my baby too. Do you think I want any of this?”
She sobs, holding him against her chest, his little head pressed into the crook of her neck.
“I don’t want it to be over,” she sobs. “I don’t want him to be gone.”
I reluctantly remove myself from the bed.
“Can I talk to you?” I ask the nurse, nodding toward the door.
She nods and follows me. I close the door behind us.
“Nova’s going to lose it if she has to watch you take him away. Please, give her some more time and I’ll get her to put him in the bed, and we’ll leave.”
Since Nova doesn’t have to stay overnight, she protested when the doctor brought up staying, so finally the doctor agreed she was safe to come home but to visit her tomorrow. I think this is the best course of action. She already had to watch one son be taken from her, she doesn’t need to have the same happen with another.
The nurse nods. “Okay. We can wait a bit longer, but she has to let him go eventually.”
“I know.” I clear my throat and repeat, “I know.”
The nurse gi
ves a pitying smile and heads down the hall. I turn back into the room.
“He’s not coming back,” Nova whispers. At first I think she’s talking to the baby about me, but I quickly realize she’s telling me about the baby. “I … I thought, if I held him, and he smelled me, felt me, he’d want to come back to us.”
She keeps breaking my heart—taking a battering ram to it and smattering it to a fine dust.
“It’s silly, I know,” she continues. “But I refused to accept this was real.”
“We’re still a family,” I tell her, moving toward the bed and sitting by her feet. “He will always be a part of us even if he’s not here.”
She nods and croaks, “I know.” But the tone of her voice sounds doubtful. “We have to go, don’t we?”
I nod. “I’m sorry.”
She looks down at Beckett. “It’s okay. I knew I couldn’t hold him forever.”
“If you could, I’d let you,” I promise her.
“You’d do anything for me, wouldn’t you?”
I let out a heavy breath. “You have no idea.”
She presses her lips together and looks down at Beckett, fresh tears pooling in her eyes. I hate seeing her like this and knowing I can’t fix it. A wound like this is irreparable. She nods to herself and hands him to me.
“Take him.”
I do before she can change her mind.
I cradle him for a moment, looking at him and memorizing his face.
I never want to forget it.
I place him gently in the bed and back away.
Nova gets out of the bed and starts getting dressed. Her movements are wooden, like she’s on autopilot.
She’s shut down, I know it.
When she’s fully dressed and looks at me, my breath catches.
The look in her eyes …
I don’t know this person.
She’s a stranger.
Nova
I stare at the tiny spot of dirt my son is buried under.
I stare at it, willing it to go away, to not be real.
This has to be an endless nightmare, right?
I refuse to think this is real, that this is actually happening.
But my logical self knows it is.
You can only deny what’s right in front of you for so long.
Jace’s hand finds mine. My hand is limp in his, but he tries to hold on. Eventually, he gives up.
He’s been trying to hold me close all week, but I avoid his touch like it’s fire and I’m ice and I’ll melt if he gets too close.
That’s the way I feel, though, as if I’m melting, as if my being can’t be held together any longer.
I’ve thought I knew what it was like to be heartbroken, but nothing compares to this. This is hell on earth.
Our friends stand around with us, even Joel is here, solemn and quiet. I know they’re scared to say the wrong thing to me, but the sad thing is I’m too numb for anything else to hurt.
My body merely feels like a vessel and I’m along for the ride.
I don’t care to feel, to think, to do.
I’m only going through the motions.
“The sun’s setting,” Jace says beside me, breaking me from my reverie. “It’s time.”
I nod.
He breaks away from me and distributes the paper lanterns to everyone, including me, but he waits to give me mine until last.
Then he goes around and lights them.
He clears his throat. “I feel like I should say something, but there’s not much I feel I can say. No parent ever thinks this will happen to them. But sometimes, it does. I choose to cherish Beckett’s life while he was with us. He brought us so much joy, so much promise. I know one day, we’ll have more kids, and Beckett will always be there, looking down on us. I only hope my soul is pure enough for me to go where he goes.”
I look at Jace and his eyes meet mine. The pain and hurt I feel is echoed in his gaze.
“I love you,” he murmurs.
I don’t say it back. Instead, I look away.
His love is too much to bear along with my grief. The weight will kill me, I know it.
“Ready? One, two, three,” he counts and then we launch the paper lanterns into the air.
Mine swirls around my head before being carried away, and I like to think it’s Beckett telling me he’s okay.
Jace wraps his arm around me. Where I would normally lean into his body, seeking warmth and comfort, now I’m careful to keep distance between us.
The lanterns float through the air, getting farther and farther away.
With them, they carry my heart.
I feel nothing now.
Day by day I go through the motions. A full month goes by, then another, every day the same.
I feed myself. I shower. I go to work at the record store and I even work with Joel. And then I ignore Jace.
He tries to talk to me, to get me to open up, but I can’t talk to him.
I know he’s going through this too, but my grief feels like mine, the only thing keeping me alive, and I don’t want to let it go.
I can feel Jace getting angry, his body radiating with intensity whenever I’m around.
I hate that I’m hurting him, but this is the way it has to be.
We ride silently together in his truck, heading to meet Sarah, her husband, and Greyson.
I don’t tell Sarah, but being around Greyson is hard now. He’s a reminder of everything I don’t have, everything I lost in the blink of an eye.
She’s been amazing, though, through this whole thing. She’s been a comforting presence, and someone I can confide in.
My friends are hesitant to say the wrong thing, and especially with Thea, I don’t think she wants to hear it. She’s pregnant, and I’m a reminder of what can go wrong.
We arrive at the lake and Jace parks. He gets out, not saying anything to me.
I think he’s beginning to give up on me, or maybe he hopes I’ll come around on my own if he leaves me alone.
He grabs his fishing gear from the back of the truck and heads for the dock where Sarah, Jimmy, and Greyson already reside.
I sit for a moment longer, trying to get my wits together.
With a sigh, I open the door and slowly trek down to the dock.
It’s June and impossibly sunny and hot. I hate it.
I scuff my sneakers through the dirt and grass, taking my time joining the others.
When I get there, Greyson runs up and gives me a hug. I hold him close before he runs off and joins Jace at the end of the dock. Jace reaches down and ruffles his hair and Greyson’s laughter carries back to me.
“Come sit with me,” Sarah coaxes as she spreads out a blanket on the grass near the dock.
I help her smooth out the edges and sit down beside her. My legs are bare in a pair of cut off shorts. My legs too white and pale in my opinion.
“How are you feeling?” Sarah asks. “You didn’t answer my last text.”
I shrug. “The same. Awful.” I pick a blade of grass and wrap it around my finger. “I keep thinking this will get easier, but it’s not. We haven’t even taken his nursery down. We barely talk, which is my fault. I don’t even want him to touch me, which I know hurts him.”
“Oh, honey.” Sarah presses her lips together, thinking. “You need to be open with him, don’t shut him out.”
“I can’t help it. Jace … He wants to make everything right for me, and this is one thing he can’t. I don’t want to give him false hope.”
“He’s the man you love, though. Don’t push him away—if you push him too far you might never get him back.”
I swallow thickly. “Maybe that’s what we need, though. Maybe we’ve been thinking we’re it for each other and we’re not.”
“Don’t say that, Nova. You don’t mean it.”
I shrug. “He’s too good for me.”
At my words, Jace looks back at me, I know he can’t have heard them, but the smile he was wearing with Greyson vanishes
and he looks at me intensely like I’m some complicated math problem he can’t solve.
“All I know,” I continue, “is he deserves to be happy, and I can’t make him happy. Not right now, maybe not ever.”
Sarah tilts her head. “Did you ever think maybe he feels the same as you? That he’s hurting and still mourning?”
I wince. I know he is, but … “It’s different.”
“No, it’s not. You’re being stupid,” she says sternly. “I see what you’re doing, you’re punishing yourself by trying to push him away. You’re only going to make yourself more miserable if you lose him too.”
“That’s not it at all,” I defend, though her words hit home and I think she’s right.
She shakes her head and I swear she rolls her eyes. “Whatever you say.”
She doesn’t believe me any more than I believe myself.
“Whoa! Yeah, that’s it,” we hear Jace cheer. “Good job!” He holds up his hand for a high five from Greyson. Jimmy sits on the dock near them, his feet dangling over the water. In the water, Greyson’s line bobs. “You’re going to catch a fish in no time,” Jace tells him.
“Really?” Greyson asks. “A big one?”
“You bet.”
Jace bends, getting his own line ready before casting it. They stand side by side and I squish my eyes closed, fighting against the pain at the fact it’ll never be Beckett and Jace going fishing.
When I open them, the pain has lessened a little. Enough so I can’t help but take a picture of them. Even though this hurts right now, I know this isn’t a moment I ever want to forget.
“He loves you fiercely,” Sarah murmurs quietly beside me, almost like she’s not sure she wants to say it. “Don’t throw it back in his face.”
Jace
If I thought Nova was slipping before, she’s practically non-existent now.
I feel like she’s my roommate again—although at least then we still spoke and had delicious banter, if I do say so myself.
I’ve never felt more alone than I do now. Even when things were awful for me as a kid, none of it compares to having the girl I love stare at me like she doesn’t even see me.
It’s a pain I wouldn’t wish on anyone.
Broken Hearts (Light in the Dark Book 5) Page 14