Disastrous (Disastrous Series)

by Montes, EL

  Collecting my thoughts was impossible. My mind was racing at a thousand miles per hour. I’d never felt so much pain in my life. I gave him one last look, but he did and said nothing. His eyes were saddened, but I didn’t care. I wanted to get away! I turned away from him and ran as fast as I could. I could hear him yelling my name.

  Snatching my purse from the table without looking back, I struggled to unlock the front door. I managed to open it with a shaky hand, tripping down the first few steps realizing at that moment, my feet were bare. Carelessly I ran down the driveway and reached my car. I shoved my hand into my bag to collect my keys, but I couldn’t find them. Shit! He was by the door. Rushing in the process, I was able to locate them and jump into the driver’s seat.

  Looking up, I found him on the bottom step, yelling, begging me to stop. My heart was pulsing at such a rapid speed I felt nauseated and lightheaded. After turning on the ignition, I raced out of the driveway and onto the street. The speedometer reached ninety-five miles per hour. My hands were sweating, and my heart was pounding so loudly I could barely hear myself breathe.

  After twenty minutes, I was far enough to pull over by the curb, checking my rearview mirror; he was nowhere in sight. I made sure the doors were locked. Then burying my face into my hands, I screamed and burst into sobs, allowing all the rage and betrayal to pour out. How could I have believed and trusted him? How could I have been so stupid? This whole time he was warning me, but I was blind and didn’t care. I wanted the good and bad—all of him.

  Knowing at that moment what he truly was, I realized that everything was just lies. Aarrgh! I looked down, trying to catch my breath. Through blurry, watery vision, I caught sight of my cream silk nightgown spotted in bright red blood.

  My thoughts were uncontrollable. I was trying to make it all go away, and I pounded my fists against my temples, but all that managed to do was inflict additional pain. Why me? My chest felt tight and it was so hard to breathe I was hyperventilating. After a few minutes of taking deep long breaths, I was able to control the airflow through my lungs.

  The loud ringing of my phone pierced through my thoughts. Thinking it was Marcus, I was going to cut the damn phone off, but it wasn’t him. It was Dr. Lee. “Hello,” I answered urgently.

  “Ms. Sullivan. This is Dr. Lee. I just received your message. Are you still spotting or feeling any cramping.”

  Choking over my tears, I burst out, “It’s a lot of blood; it seeped through my gown…”

  Cutting me off, he spoke in an urgent but controlled tone. “I need you to meet me at the hospital. I can make it there in fifteen minutes.”

  Chapter Twenty-three

  “Ms. Sullivan, the procedure could take anywhere from thirty to forty minutes. We are giving you general anesthesia. When you wake up, you will feel a little groggy. I want you to count down, beginning from one hundred.”

  “One hundred, ninety-nine, ninety-ei…”

  I awoke feeling confused. Just a minute ago, I was lying in a cold operating room, counting backwards, and now I’m in another room. A woman in navy blue scrubs was standing a few inches away from the edge of the bed. She was scribbling away on a piece of paper. My eyes felt heavy; it was exhausting trying to keep them open. The nurse must have sensed my attempt to stare. Looking from under her glasses, a warm gentle smile spread along her face. Placing the clipboard into a holder on the end of the bed, she walked to my side. “Hi Ms. Sullivan, my name is Sandy. I’m the RN on this floor. You’re in the recovery room. How are you feeling?” she asked.

  Trying to locate my voice, I mumbled, “Uh, I feel really … groggy and thirsty.” She gently smiled and giggled.

  “That’s normal. Dr. Lee will be in to speak with you in just a few minutes. Your mother is speaking with him at this moment. In the meantime, I’ll grab you some water.” She left the room, leaving me in a daze.

  A couple nights ago—that night I left him—I went in to see Dr. Lee. Some testing showed that my HCG levels were dropping, and Dr. Lee could no longer hear the heartbeat of my little peanut. I was miscarrying, and Dr. Lee recommended that I allow the fetus to pass on its own. When I followed up this morning, he said that only half of the fetus passed, and he strongly recommended a D&C to prevent an infection.

  There was one problem. I could only be discharged if I had someone drive me home. The past few days I stayed in a hotel room, avoiding the outside world. The thought of home sent me into a depression. I couldn’t go home because he would surely be there. Then I thought of Jeremy. I wanted tell him everything, but I was afraid he would call him. I didn’t even attempt it. Who could I have called? Where could I’ve gone? I didn’t have any other friends, and the people that I was close with were all his family.

  Then my mother popped in my head. When I called her, she didn’t recognize my voice. I’m not sure I would’ve been able to recognize my own voice either. It was raspy and unintelligible from the yelling, screaming, and crying I’d done the past few days: yelling at him after finding out what he’s kept from me, screaming from the top of lungs for feeling betrayed and neglected, and crying from the loss—the loss of our love, the loss of the trust, and the loss of our child. At that moment, I wished I was under again away from my thoughts. My whole life had caved in, and I wasn’t sure I had the strength to recover from this.

  Tears ran down the side of my temples as I lay there and wondered how something so perfect could completely turn into one huge disaster. I knew he had the right to know about our baby, but I also knew I wasn’t ready to face him. Knowing that, I couldn’t go home just then. I took my mother’s offer and stayed with her for a while. It was the only place I knew he wouldn’t find me. At one point his arms were where I felt safe; then I was running to away from him to feel safe.

  “Ms. Sullivan … oh I’m sorry. I could return …” Lost in my own sorrow, I didn’t hear Dr. Lee enter.

  I managed to bring myself to sit. “No, it’s fine.” Before I could use my fingers to wipe my own tears, Dr. Lee handed me a tissue. The gesture for some unexplained reason brought fresh tears to my eyes. Lowering my head so he couldn’t see, I wiped the soft tissue against the moisture on my eyelids.

  Pulling a chair beside my bed, he took a seat and opened a folder he held. “Ms. Sullivan, the procedure went very well; we were able to fully clean the cervix. There was no scarring or tissue damage. As discussed earlier, it was best to have the D&C, since only half the fetus passed. There will be bleeding and slight cramping that will occur for up to two weeks. I will prescribe you an antibiotic to prevent an infection and ibuprofen for any pain or discomfort. Here is a list of do’s and don’ts of what to avoid within the next two weeks. Do you have any questions?” he asked as I took the sheet of paper from his hand. I shook my head, and he stood.

  “Okay, your mother is waiting for you. I’ll write up your discharge paperwork, and you’re free to go. If you feel abnormal pain or are bleeding excessively, you should contact me immediately. Also, I’ll need to see you in two weeks to follow-up … and Mia, I’m very sorry.” Nodding my head again because that’s all I could do, I watched as he turned and walked out the door.

  The nurse returned a few moments shortly after Dr. Lee left. She handed me a cup of ice water, and I gulped it, almost choking on the cold that was soothing my dry throat. She also gave me a bag with clothes that my mother brought for me. The bag contained jeans, a blue t-shirt, and flip-flops. The jeans and shirt were a little loose, but the flip-flops fit perfectly. When I was finished dressing, the nurse returned with a wheelchair. She wheeled me through the halls, and I kept my head lowered the entire ride.

  Before the procedure, my mother was able to visit me. We talked for only fifteen minutes before I was taken to the prep room. We cried about the miscarriage together. She asked about him—if I wanted her to call him. I told her we were no longer together, and she didn’t ask any questions after that. I guess she didn’t want to seem too pushy. Maybe she felt she needed to earn the privilege of my
confiding in her.

  No matter how close our relationship develops, I would never disclose everything. There were things between him and me that were too personal and confidential that would always be just between the two of us.

  The nurse locked the wheelchair in place once we exited the building and entered into the pick-up lot of the hospital. My mother was already up front in her old beat-up Toyota Camry with the passenger door opened. She rushed to my side, scooping her arm through mine. We walked to her car, and I got in. Closing the door, she thanked the nurse and took her place behind the wheel.

  Shifting to place her seatbelt on, she quickly glanced at me. She sighed and leaned the side of her temple against the headrest. Reaching out her fingers, she tugged a piece of hair behind my ear. “Are you hungry?” she whispered.

  The softness of her tone forced tears to spring my eyes. I shook my head; food was the last thing I wanted or needed. Shifting away from her, I stared out the passenger window. The rest of the ride was in silence.

  When we finally reached her tiny two-bedroom apartment, I just wanted to lie down and fall asleep again. When we entered her place, she hurried around to grab fresh towels and blankets. I stood in the living room; well it was the living room, dining room, and kitchen all-in-one. With my arms hugging my chest, I admired how she took a small place and made it welcoming and warm.

  I wasn’t sure how long I would stay. As much as I liked her place, it wasn’t home. Though when I thought of home my first thought wasn’t the place I shared with Jeremy. It was his place, and my eyes burned as fresh tears began to form once again. How much could one person cry, not just here and there, I mean really cry for several hours straight? I had a feeling I’d spend the next few weeks crying, and the thought seemed exhausting.

  Sara entered the small room and guided me to where I would be staying. The room could possibly be the size of my walk-in closet. It only fit a futon and a dresser. I watched as she pulled the metal frame, transforming the sofa into a full-sized bed, making the already tiny room smaller. Placing the blankets and pillows she held on top of the bed, she glanced over at me and shrugged. “I’m sorry…I know it’s not the best place to sleep…” Shaking my head, I walked over and hugged her as tightly as I could. She returned the embrace.

  “It’s great, thank you … for everything Sara. I appreciate your letting me stay here awhile.” I whispered.

  Pushing away, she held me by the shoulders. “Of course, Mia, it’s the least I could do. I’m glad you’re here … well not under these circumstances … get some rest. I’ll see you in the morning.” Leaning in, she pressed her lips against my forehead. I’m not sure why that small motion brought him to mind. It was a gesture he always used, and when Sara closed the door behind her, I sank into the futon.

  With soft sobs, I drenched the pillow until I drifted into a deep sleep, dreaming of him. I hoped that if I closed my eyes tightly enough I would wake in his bed, wrapped in his arms, laughing and giggling, as he tickled my belly, bringing his lips close, singing our baby a lullaby. Yes, this nightmare was just a dream, and soon I’d awaken.

  Unfortunately I was forced back into reality when I woke the next day. With burning, dry eyes, I stared at the ceiling the rest of the morning. Sara knocked a few times, but I didn’t answer. I could hear the door screech open. She whispered my name, but I kept my eyes shut, hoping she’d go away. Eventually she did. I wasn’t ready to face the real world. Instead I wanted to dwell in my misery. Here in this tiny box, I was safe and away from everything else. Nothing could hurt me in here—nothing but my haunting thoughts.

  Sara grew impatient when day two came around and I hadn’t moved from the bed. After opening the door, she sank down beside me. I opened my eyes when I realized she was not giving up. Her soft smile brightened her eyes. Her eyebrows pulled in, and her lips pouted at my resistance in acknowledging her with the same greeting.

  “Sweetie, you can’t stay in here forever. You haven’t eaten a thing…how about you take a nice long hot shower, while I make us some dinner?” I wasn’t hungry, nor did I want to take a shower. However her sad eyes grew in sorrow, and I didn’t want anyone to feel sorry for me. So I caved in, lifting myself onto my elbows, and I nodded. Smiling a little brighter, she stood and closed the door behind her.

  The warm shower soothed my aching body. Massaging the cloth along my skin, I stared blankly at one of the pink tiles in front of me. The day he opened up to me was in the shower when he told me about his involvement with the Sorrentos. Everything reminded me of him. After all the things we’d been through, I knew I’d miss everything about him: the way he would enter the shower uninvited, wickedly grinning as he would take over and wash me himself; those big brown eyes, the way they looked into mine; the way he held me at night, tightly against his chest, whispering how much he loves me in my ear. Deep down I knew I would never get over him. He would always hold a special place in my heart. He would always be the love of my life.

  ****

  My mother busied away by the stove as I sat on the tiny table for two. Gulping down water, I hadn’t realized how dehydrated I was. As she slammed away on the pots and pans, I heard a small buzzing sound. The sound grew louder. Sara turned around giving me an apologetic smile. I eyed her questioningly. “I hope you don’t mind your phone was going crazy all night, so I placed it on vibrate. It’s on the charger by the window over there.” She pointed to the window by the couch then turned and went back to her cooking.

  I dreaded walking over to the phone. I knew what I’d find, and I wasn’t sure I was ready to confront it. Taking a few deep breaths, I found the courage to stand and head toward the window. A small blue light flicked on and off as it did to notify me when I missed any calls or received any messages. I took the phone off the charger and sat on the couch. Staring at the black screen for a few seconds, I tried to mentally prepare myself. After one more deep breath, I pressed the side button. The screen lit, and it revealed that I had several missed calls, voice messages and text messages. My heartbeat began to rapidly pick up its pace.

  Deciding to view missed calls first, I noticed I had too many to count from Marcus. Just seeing his name on the screen made nervous butterflies flutter in my stomach. There were a few missed calls from Jeremy as well. That led me to believe that Marcus went by my place as I expected. Thankfully I was at the hotel and now here. I wouldn’t have been able to handle the sight of him. I viewed the text messages without reading them. There were several from him and a few from Jeremy. Deciding to skip Marcus’, I viewed only a couple of Jeremy’s messages.

  JEREMY (6:00am) yesterday: What’s going on Mia?

  JEREMY (8:30am) today: I’m worried. Call me. Please.

  Oh God, I wonder what Marcus had said to him. Placing the phone to my ear, I hesitantly listened to Jeremy’s voice messages. “Mia, I don’t know what’s going on, but Marcus was just here…he was…I never seen him like this. He’s going crazy. He said the two of you had gotten into a huge argument, and you left. Mia, please call me. I want to know you’re safe.”

  The next two were similar, but on the third one, Jeremy was leaving a message, “Mia, can you please call me,” when my entire body froze as I heard Marcus in the background, “I will not leave, Jae. I have to hear she’s okay!” Then Jeremy said, “Dude calm down, I’m trying to find out. Ugh, Mia, please call me. I need to know you’re okay … please.”

  Maybe because I wasn’t expecting it, or maybe it was the desperate need in Marcus’ tone, but hearing his voice made my heart skip and pick up in speed. I felt faint hearing him. I decided to wait to actually hear Marcus’ messages. If I couldn’t handle that little piece, there was no way I was ready to hear what he had to say.

  Biting on my thumbnail, I sat on the couch a little longer and wondered if I should pick up the phone and call Jeremy or shoot him a text to let him know I was … what am I? I’m not okay. I’m definitely not fine. Sara was still in the kitchen, so I decided to call Jeremy privately from th
e closet-sized bedroom.

  I nervously paced in the small room as the phone rang. I was going to hang up on the third ring when Jeremy eagerly answered the phone. “Mia?” I could hear the fear in his voice.

  “Yes.” I whispered.

  Sighing in relief, “Jesus, Mia, I’ve been freaking out! Where are you? Come home.” he said.

  Stopping, I sank into the futon. “Jeremy, I’m fine … well not really, but I’ll be fine. I can’t come home yet. I’m not ready to face him.”

  He was silent over the phone for a second. “Yeah, he’s here you know, but asleep. He won’t leave. He sleeps by the door, hoping you’ll walk in soon.” Letting out a deep breath, he continued. “Are you sure you okay? Do you need me to bring you anything? Some clothes? Any of your things?”

  “No, um, I’m afraid he’ll somehow follow you. I’ll buy whatever I need. I’m not sure how long it will be before I’m home, Jeremy … but I’ll keep you updated. Just let him know that you spoke with me, and that I’m okay. Maybe that will keep him out of your hair.”

  He lowered his tone to almost at a whisper. “He’s waking up now. Okay, I’ll let him know. Love you, be safe.”

  Swallowing back tears, I whispered, “I love you too, Jeremy.” He ended the call.

  ****

  After a quiet dinner with my mother, I hibernated back into the bedroom. I felt extremely bad. I knew she was trying, but it was so hard for me to try back. I couldn’t laugh at her jokes or engage in conversation. I was too distracted. My mind would wander off when she began to talk. I thought of Jeremy and how he was handling Marcus. I also wondered if Marcus was drunk at this very moment.