by Pamela Ann
“She’s so fucked up. I feel helpless,” she stared at the floor.
Heck yes, that woman was impossible. “I know, but we can’t do much about that. All we can do is be there for her.”
“Always. We’re all she’s got, besides her grandma.” Lindsey clutched my hand and gave it a light squeeze.
Yes, things might always fall apart around us, yet Amber could always count on friends to be there for her.
Chapter 3
…About a month ago…
Trista
Those three days I had before the termination, I spent wallowing and pondering my situation. I declined all calls that went through my phone, including Emma and Lindsey’s. I was not in the frame of mind to speak to either of them. Maybe because if I did pick up one of their calls I would simply break down and I couldn’t risk that.
No, I needed all my energy and focus on what was to come. I had to keep it all in and get it together. I had to. I deserved it. It was my cruel punishment for being a selfish slut. I only thought about what I wanted. Any guilt I felt towards my family, and most especially to Becka, I had pushed away and never thought of it again. Yeah, I deserved to be in this cruel sentence. Being a mistress bitch was never the answer to have a happy ever after, though I hadn’t cared at the time.
Thinking about my pregnant cousin now hurt even more. Becka was five years older than I. She’s spoiled and gets whatever her little heart desires. She has a rotten personality and loves to demean people around her. She wants to be the only thing that matters, wherever she may be, and she never fails to make that point.
Ever since I was little, she would always make fun of me, most especially when it came to how I looked. Becka started to call me ‘duckie’ when I was about five years old. To this day, she still did. Her parents and her other two sisters, Brenda and Belle, followed suit. They made a light jest about it. On the outside, I would smile and pretend that it was fine. Deep inside, I was humiliated and embarrassed that I was ugly. The ugly duckling—Duckie.
My brother, Tristan used to defend me against their taunting, but my defender died when he was sixteen years old. A thrill seeker that thrived by living on the edge, he was surfing in the middle of a storm. The waves were violent and we were told that he fell from his board while he tried to ride one out, but it was too much for him to handle. When he fell, the waves kept pulling him down and it didn’t take long for him to drown. Some onlookers said that they called for help, however it was already too late by the time that help got there. My brother was beyond saving when they pulled his body out of the ocean.
My parents barely recovered from that, and my family was never the same. My mom took it hard, and to this day, she still gets panic attacks. My father, crushed as he was, tried to communicate with me, but it was difficult and it didn’t take long until the three of us retreated and started to deal with Tristan’s loss all on our own. My father worked more, my mom needed therapy and pills, and I found solace in partying. I was a full-blown party girl by my junior year of high school.
It’s been four years now since my brother’s death, and nothing’s changed. I’m still troubled, more so now.
I trapped myself in the cage of my reckless actions. The thought of my parents now gave me grief. My mother will never recover from this latest disaster, if she ever finds out. My grandmother and the rest of my relatives will positively disown me. They were the conservative sort and having Harry’s baby would be criminal.
Karma. It hurts like a bitch when it lashes back at you.
Harry called mid-noon on Sunday. I had to strengthen my resolve before I picked up my phone to answer him. “Hello?”
“What’s it to be, Trista?” he rushed out, straight to the point.
There was no mild mannered greeting or an inquiry about my condition… the Harry I fell in love with, the one who relentlessly chased me until I gave in to his advances, was gone. Hearing him this way made me feel absolutely horrible. “Go set the appointment.” My voice wobbled when I spoke. My tears were endless.
“Good to know that you’ve come to your senses. I’m pleased. The private clinic is going to be in San Diego. I can’t risk you running in to someone, so it has to be three hours away from home. I will text you once it’s all confirmed.” He didn’t even wait for me to disagree or agree, he simply just hung up on me.
What a fucking mean, cold-hearted bastard! All I wanted was a little kindness from him, but I didn’t even get that. I mattered so little to him. That knowledge made me feel like the naïve idiot that I really was. What happened to all of his declarations of love? Did it all go downhill the minute I told him I was carrying his seed as well?
After a few hours, Harry texted me the information as he had promised.
Appointment is for eleven in the morning. Don’t eat anything past midnight. A car will pick you up at seven-thirty tomorrow. Be ready by then.
Harry worked everything fast. If I hadn’t been sure before, it was definitely crystal clear now that he certainly didn’t want this kid with me.
For the entire afternoon, I stuck to the same spot. When nightfall came, I hadn’t made a move. The entire apartment was dark, I didn’t care for any light. Turning them on would only show the kind of rotten being that I was. Because I was rotten, filthy, despicable, deplorable, but most of all, I was completely abominable—a sinner with the large, scarlet letter. Yes, I didn’t deserve the light, hence the darkened surroundings.
I sat in the dark, immobilized as I gripped my stomach with both arms. It was to be a sacrifice—for love—a sacrifice atop my own. For I knew, once this was all done, my soul was to be given up as well. It was an even exchange for the heinous crime that was to be done.
Without sound, I stood up and went to the unlit bathroom. I needed a hot bath. Once the water was halfway filled, I slowly took off my clothes. Naked, I slid inside the warm water carefully. Here, in this solemn place, I prayed for my unborn baby.
My palms stroked my bare stomach. My throat caught as I tried to speak. “I barely just found out about you… and a couple of hours after learning of your existence, I had to make drastic decisions. I’m so sorry, but your father needs you to sleep… forever. Forgive me.” I cried harder as the realization crushed me again. “I’ll sleep in the dark with you, my love… I’ll stay by your side. You’ll always have me there… with you.”
Sleep eluded me that night. I ended up curling up in my bed, staring at the clock, until it was time for me to get ready. I wasn’t wholly baffled with Harry’s attitude. One thing that truly mattered to him was his inheritance. He was the first-born son, and he stood to get more compared to his brother Harold, who hated his brother with a passion The feeling was mutual, brotherly love was non-existent between the two. I’d met Harold a few times and, let me just say, that the man was quite vocal about what he really felt about his brother. I never quite got why those two didn’t really get along, though.
Thinking about all the consequences that could unfold made me sick with dread, but what really gutted me was the unavoidable truth. I would be the one to face all of them, to be castigated and surely carry my family’s scorn and loathing, if the affair ever got out. My pregnancy would definitely cause another string of explosions along the way. It would be like walking through a field of landmines. One explosion would lead to another, a never-ending chain of devastation. The damage would be severe… and I would have to wear the scars. Forever.
Even if the scars that I carried were only emotional, I would certainly be shrouded almost completely by them. It would surely tear me apart. Frayed, that’s how this is going to leave me.
As promised, a hired, black-tinted Audi showed up promptly at seven-forty five in the morning. The driver greeted me, but I barely gave him a ghost of a smile.
I was dressed rather odd compared to my normal summer clothes. I needed something warm and comfy, so I chose loose sweatpants even though it’s nearly June. I had a soft sweater and the largest sunglasses I could find on, too.
I wanted to crawl and hide somewhere dark and cold, locking myself in until this could all just blow over.
I was simply scared, shitless.
A small part of me hoped that Harry was waiting for me inside the car, but that hope was immediately squashed as I peered into the depths of the car. I was going to have to do this all on my own. True, I could’ve had Lindsey with me, to be there and hold my hand, but I wasn’t ready for anyone to know.
For the past few days, I endlessly thought of everything—the outcome and all the ugly scenarios my imagination could come up with. Although I knew I was without a doubt pregnant, I still hadn’t wrapped my mind around it completely. Everything seemed surreal for me. From Harry’s intensely crass treatment, to his brash indifference, to this journey to the abortion clinic—it all felt like a bad nightmare—and a major part of me wished I was going to wake up soon.
Fairytales were made for people with rose-tinted glasses, though. Indeed, I never considered myself to be one of those. Granted, I may have deluded myself into believing I could be that kind of person when I realized I was completely and irreversibly in love with Harry. That surely didn’t last long, however. I knew sooner or later, we would have to end. What I didn’t expect was how short of a time we had because I simply wasn’t ready to let him go. Even after how he treated me, I still loved that twit of a man.
I hadn’t realized that we had arrived until the driver killed the engine and got out of the car to open the door for me. The private clinic screamed exclusive and expensive from their heavily tinted windows, to the fast approaching, well-dressed, aged man striding towards me in a charcoal suit. This place must’ve cost Harry a good penny. I guess fucking Harry was really going to play the scared little boy, running away with his balls between his legs.
The man introduced himself and held out his hand. I absently shook it, but didn’t return his cheerful greeting. I just nodded and sent off a bitchy attitude. Hell, there was nothing to be happy about. I’m already mourning the loss of my unborn baby, and I suppose I was always going to, there was no need for me to pretend that it was all okay too.
The nameless man, since I was too uninterested to listen to his yapping and didn’t catch his name, ushered me inside the tinted building. After a quick elevator ride, and a couple of doors, I was introduced to a female nurse. The sympathetic Latina woman, didn’t have to say anything, I knew she understood and was empathetic about my situation from the slight touches she gave me. It was somewhere in between… Be strong, no one is judging you… and you’re not alone, I’m here if you need to talk about your fears… Of course, I never uttered a word, but it was comforting to know all the same.
The nurse handed me papers to read through and sign. Afterwards, she instructed me to pee in one of those plastic cups and bring it back to her. I reluctantly did as she requested, handing her the half-pint size container with my fluids when I was done.
“Thank you, Trista. I will be sending this to the lab. I will be back quickly. Feel free to make yourself comfortable. We will get to your blood work once I get back.” She gave me an easy smile before she left me alone in the room.
After ten minutes or so, she was back. She then prepped me to get four vials of blood out of my weak arm. I hated needles, but I didn’t even wince when the big thick needle pricked me. I was beyond the point of numbness. If someone would have slapped me right now, I wouldn’t even have felt it.
“All done, Hon’. I will be back after we get the results. It shouldn’t be long now and then we can get started.” The nurse gave me another warm smile before she exited the room.
The room was like any other gynecologist’s exam room except it was painted in a nude tone with a mural on one wall of the San Diego coast. Soft sounds of Debussy filtered through the room. I knew that every single time I heard his music from now on, I would associate it with this memory. I would never enjoy his masterpieces like I used to.
I dug out my phone when I heard it vibrate.
Emma, it said.
Lately, she’d been calling constantly, and I knew I would have to pick up soon before she started calling Lindsey to check on me.
Out of the four of us, Emma was the lucky one. Why? Because she was not a fuck up like the rest of us. Lindsey was rattled by her parents’ death at a young age, and from time to time, she would channel her frustration and sadness into lashing out at men—men like Brody or Cooper, usually. Amber had the most screwed up childhood, though. Her parents completely ignored her. I clearly remembered Amber’s rebellion strategy, thinking that it would get her attention and the love that she craved so much, but it simply didn’t work. Nothing did, it seemed, when it came to Mr. and Mrs. Harrison’s only child; they remained blissfully unattached.
Emma was the easiest to talk to, compared to Lindsey and Amber. Emma had that kind of personality where it’s easy to unload all of your skeletons because you knew she wouldn’t breathe a word about it, and wouldn’t dream of judging you over it, either. All good girls have an Achilles heel though, and hers was Carter Mason. Hopefully that stupid, lovey-dovey haze she was in was lifted off now that she knew what kind of man he was to her and she was starting to move on with Bass. Girlfriend deserved better than hotshot, cheating-ass Carter.
When my phone vibrated again, I wasn’t a bit surprised that it was Emma again. I finally relented and took the call. “Hey, Doll. What’s up?” I greeted her in a flat, cheerless tone. My voice mirrored what I felt, and what I was going through; I didn’t have the energy to hide it.
“What’s wrong? You sound horrible. You okay?” Emma was obviously worried, nothing new there, though hearing her familiar voice gave me strength.
“Not really. I’m just going through some difficult stuff. I know you’re going to ask what, but I’m not ready to talk about it.” My voice wobbled and the last few words came out in a whisper.
“Oh no, let me go call Linds. She’ll be there quick—” Emma sounded like she was trying to help, but seeing Lindsey was definitely not one of the brightest ideas.
I panicked at her suggestion and cut her off before she got any more ideas. “No, please don’t do that. I love that woman to death, but I want to be alone. I will catch up with you guys once we get there in a few weeks okay? I’m sorry I’m being rude, Em. It’s just tough right now.”
She gave a helpless sigh. “Fine, I respect that. Make sure you get on that plane, okay? This island will heal you of whatever demons you’re going through. Trust me on this. Just get on that damn plane then we can weed through one problem at a time when you get here, comprende?” I smiled when she said comprende. It was a Lindsey thing, and hearing Emma say it made me miss her even more.
I doubt there was a place on earth that could heal me, yet I didn’t tell Emma that. Worrying her was the last thing I needed to do. “Even if I want to miss the flight, I don’t think Lindsey will allow me. Three weeks will be here before we know it and I will be there, enjoying the Grecian sun with you.” The picture I painted out did sound quite inviting, and being around my friends would surely lift my spirits up, whatever was left of them.
“Damn straight girly! I look forward to seeing both of my Dollfaces,” Emma said with excitement, but she immediately paused. “Uh, I have something else to tell you… Carter’s been emailing me on a daily basis. I haven’t replied to any of it, but he stills sends them. These emails are mostly about how his day went and what not… do you think I should respond to any of them?”
The hellish fucker, when would he ever stop with Emma? “Listen up, Em… You’re not obligated to reply to those emails. Ignore them and pretend they’re not there. You will not open any of those emails and read them. You do get that this will fuck things up with Bass, right? I know you mentioned that you two aren’t official—that you’re in the ‘getting to know each other’ phase—but you should know better! Unless you’re not into Bass, that is. Then go right ahead and read them.” It’s only been a few months since Carter and Emma broke up. It’s clearly normal
for her to still have a wee bit of affection towards her ex, but come on! Bass Cole was hot and heavy for her. I didn’t want my friend to mess that up. Bass was the solid deal. Anyone with eyes would know that he was serious with Emma. That’s just a simple fact.
“Seriously, I’m stupidly crazy about Bass. We’ve been inseparable. You’re right; I will go on and ignore them. I’ve got to go. We have a bonfire going with some of the crew out on the beach. See you very soon, Babe. I love you and I’m only a phone call away.” Emma spoke with utmost sincerity. It simply made me tear up.
I mumbled my thanks and told her that I loved her too before I hung up. It was a good thing that I decided to pick up when Emma called. As short as the phone call was, it had alleviated a tiny fraction of the dark shroud that blanketed me.
The door burst open and the nurse entered. She went to one of the cabinets and handed me a hospital gown. “Trista? Here’s the gown for you to change in. I’ll be taking you to the surgery room afterwards.”
I took the gown away from her hands and stood up. “Okay,” I murmured quietly, before I went inside the bathroom. I changed into my hospital garb on autopilot. When I emerged from the bathroom, the nurse was still there, patiently waiting for me.
“You can leave your things here. Everything is secure, so you don’t have to worry about your items being stolen.” She held the door open for me and I stepped out of the room.
The well-lit hallway reminded me of being in a movie where the person was heading for a death penalty execution, sterile and cold. A few more turns and a corridor later, I finally arrived in the surgery room. Positioned in the middle of the bright room was the “execution” table. The medical staff met me cordially before a female doctor greeted me and from then on, things happened quickly.