by Amy Brent
“I’m sorry, Marina, but everything has changed. I can’t do this.”
She tried to plead a little longer. When that didn’t work, she changed tactics.
“You have someone else, then?”
I rolled my eyes. “That’s rich, coming from you. I wasn’t the one that had the affair with the one person we were both supposed to be able to trust, to confide in to build our lives together.”
“But you’re used to whoring around. Before you met me, that’s all you did.”
I was getting angry. She knew exactly how to push my buttons. That was what happened when you lived with someone, married someone, shared your life with someone. You got to know them well enough to know where you could hit them, where it really hurt.
“My life before you and after you are two very different things. I gave up my lifestyle for you.”
“But that didn’t stop you from falling straight into bed with another whore, did it?”
“Camille is not a whore.”
Shit. The words had slipped out, our back and forth had gotten faster and faster. Marina’s face changed from shock to a sly grin.
“I knew it. I know who you really are, Mark. You can’t hide it with fancy suits and cars and that billion watt smile of yours.”
She was hurting me and she knew it.
“A child of all things. She’s barely an adult, and you want to tell me she’s not a whore? What could she possibly see in you? Or you in her?”
She’d stunned me, but not for long.
“I care more for her than I ever cared for you.” Let her take that however, she wanted. She paled a little but she bounced back quick. That was one of the upsides of being Marina. Her skin was thick and her tongue was sharp.
“Don’t play games with me, Mark. Jealousy won’t win me over. I’m not going to run back to you just because I feel like I have competition.”
I nodded. “Good. That saves me the trouble of having to get rid of you over and over again.”
She opened her mouth to say something but she had nothing and snapped it shut again. For a moment I felt guilty. I was being hard on her. I was hurting her. I wanted to apologize but then I saw those dark brown hands on her light skin again, the sheet clutched to the chest he’d been starting at openly, and I swallowed my regrets.
Marina stood up. Her heels clacked on the marble tiles all the way to the front door.
“You’ll hear from my lawyer, Mark. The baby is mine and you know, as the woman, I’ll win I court. If you want to play dirty, so can I.”
I followed her to the front door. I watched her climb into her car. She started it with a huff, flicking her hair over her shoulder. I was tired. Exhausted.
I still loved her. On some level, I supposed I would for a long time, still. But so much of me had been bruised and become callous as a result of constant battering it was hard for me to reconcile the woman she was now with the woman she had been before. It was hard for me to find a reason to feel like I should fix it with her. It was hard to care about what happened to her at all.
She reversed out of the yard and sped off. I could hear her engine whining for a long time after the gate had rolled shut. I turned around and walked back into the house that felt miserable and empty. It was easy to get rid of someone that had hurt you. It was hard to filter through all the emotions that had built up through the years, to see the house you’d shared as a place of your own again. A place where you could be yourself without being judged for it.
Her comment about the whores rolled around my mind and I struggled to silence it. It was true, I’d lived the bachelor’s life before her. But I had been a bachelor. There wasn’t another choice. I had changed everything for her when we’d gotten married, even who I was.
That had been the mistake. Maybe we’d gone into this all wrong. I’d gone into the relationship thinking Marina would never change, but she did. And she’d gone into the relationship expecting I would change, and I never did. Maybe it was just a bad match and too long trying to make something work that had been doomed to fail all along.
Or maybe I was being nice and giving her too much credit when, in the end, she was the one that had forced it until it broke.
Camille
Three tests in two weeks and I had six more to go. Some of the subjects had double-barrel tests and I had to get through all of them. I hadn’t slept for than two hours a night for the past six nights and I was running on coffee and willpower.
After the test series, I was going to sleep for a week. The fact that I was pregnant made it all the more difficult. I ran low on energy very quickly. I was sleepy often. I had to pee all the time, even during my tests where I had to hold it, or when I really couldn’t I had to be escorted by a moderator to make sure I wasn’t just cheating in the toilet stall.
I was hungry all the time, and besides my belly that kept growing I was pretty sure I was picking up weight. A little more than five months to go. I hadn’t even reached the halfway mark, yet.
Sometimes when I walked on campus students did a double take. I knew they were speculating about my pregnancy, whether it was real or if I’d just picked up a lot of weight. I knew that there were those who said I was saying it was a surrogacy just to cover up for the fact that my pregnancy was an accident.
I knew that I didn’t really care, either. My real friends knew the truth and believed me for the most part, and the most important thing was that I was going to pay off my degree and make my mama proud. That was all that mattered to me at this point.
I would go through life without a single friend as long as mama was still on my side.
I sat down on a bench. I was halfway between the dorm and college campus and I was heaving and sweating. My bag felt ridiculously heavy. I found a bottle of water and drank at least half of it. Sure, it would make me have to pee again, but it was the lesser of two evils at this point.
Other students were already heading toward class. I could see them in the distance, a range of bags in every color, hair styles and clothes that defined student life. I was happy here, even though at the moment I felt like an outcast.
After ten minutes of catching my breath, I had to get up and keep moving. I was already late for class.
“Camille,” a voice said behind me and I turned. Marina stood under the tree, her feet together in her nude heels, her dress suit pristine and her hair and nails perfectly manicured. She was much older but she still looked like she’d stepped off the cover of a magazine. A pang of guilt shot into my chest. I’d slept with her husband. I hadn’t even hesitated when I realized that was where he was heading.
“How are you, Marina? I haven’t heard from you in a while?” I forced a smile and walked closer to her. My fingers were trembling but I clutched onto my bag to hide it. “The baby is doing well.”
She smiled a smile that didn’t reach her eyes, and looked at my belly.
“Thank God it’s you, imagine that happening to my body.”
The insult jabbed at me and my smile faltered.
“Is there something I can help you with? I’m late for class.”
She shook her head, glanced in the direction of the other students that were thinning out now that classes had already started.
“Oh, no. Nothing you can do to fix this, really. I was just wondering why you thought it wouldn’t come out that you’re sleeping with my husband.”
Blood drained from my face and turned to ice in my veins. My stomach turned and I couldn’t breathe.
“It was a mistake, Marina. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for it to happen.”
She shrugged. “You see, it’s very hard for me to believe you when he tells me how much he feels for you and how little he cares for me.”
When she looked at me again she looked different. She was still composed as ever on the outside but her eyes were manic and her mouth was curled into a sneer rather than a smile.
“I’m sorry, Marina.”
“I don’t believe you.” She laughed. I
shook my head, held up my hands defense. I’d made such a mistake. I should have stopped it when he came onto me. I should have done something about it. I’d known it was wrong but I’d been overcome by emotion, by how much he’d cared for me.
“I never meant for this to happen. It was a mistake, a stupid mistake. In fact, I think that he was just trying to forget that he’d lost you. You know he loves you, you know how much it hurt him that he’d lost you.”
She shook her head while I was talking. I was panicking. Rambling and panicking. I said anything that came to mind just to make it all better. I was young and stupid and I should have thought about what I was doing before just falling into bed with him. Maybe he was getting back together with her and they could have their baby and I would disappear forever.
“I won’t ever come near him again, I swear. As soon as this baby is born I’ll disappear out of your life forever.”
Marina sighed and it felt like she was a mother that listened to the stupid excuses of her child. I’d really messed up.
“Do you know how it feels to have your whole life ripped away from you?” she asked. The guilt got bigger and bigger until it felt like it was suffocating me. “Especially when you’re traded for a younger model, one that can have children.”
Shit. This was getting worse and worse.
“I’m so sorry. I never meant for this to happen. I didn’t think—”
“That’s it. You’re getting there,” she interrupted me. “You didn’t think.”
“I really have to go to class.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. You have to get back to your life. I’ll let you do that. It’s a pity I don’t have a life to get back to anymore.”
I didn’t know what to do, what to say. I turned and started walking away from her. She grabbed my hair from behind and yanked back. Pain shot through my skull and I fell backward. I hit the floor with one hand. Pain flooded my wrist and my back. Marina stood over me and fear clawed at my throat. I thought about screaming.
“Please,” I pleaded. She smirked and stepped back. I rolled onto my side and tried to get up. I saw her foot pull back and I knew what was coming. It all happened in slow motion and I still couldn’t stop it. I was on my side, my belly exposed. The toe of her nude shoe came toward me with full force.
“The baby,” I started staying, but then she kicked me and I cried out, the scream drowning out the rest of my sentence. I felt something inside me rip. The pain was unbearable. I heard Marina laugh somewhere in the distance but it was fading away. Warmth between my legs, liquid, lots of it. I looked down and saw blood. Too much blood.
“Help,” I tried to scream but my voice had gone hoarse. My throat was raw. Blood rushed in my ears and the world started to blur. Marina disappeared and it was just me. I tried to drag myself up but the pain in my belly flooded my body and I collapsed again whimpering. I curled into a ball, hoping to make it less. Hoping to hold onto the baby, the little boy or girl who was bleeding out. I tried to be the mother I would never be able to be and save my child. Not theirs, mine. My baby in my belly. It would be too late. There was no one around, the campus was empty now. I looked up at the sky, the patches of blue through the leaves, the green. I closed my eyes and let darkness fold around me, taking me away. The last thing I heard was the sound of my heart, breaking.
Mark
Everything in the hospital was white. White sheets, white walls, white floors, white monitors. Everything was white when I needed it to be black. Black was the color of mourning.
A student who had seen the whole thing had called 9-1-1. The ambulance had arrived ten minutes later. The police had followed suit. They had reacted as fast as they possibly could, and still it might be too late.
I sat next to her bed, looking at all the lines that ran into her body. Bags of fluid into her IV line. Oxygen into pipes in her nose. A catheter next to the bed. The monitor beeped steadily, albeit it slow, the only proof that she was alive.
She was pale. Her hair was matted and pulled back from her face. Her eyes were sunken. Her hands were still. She hadn’t moved from the position on her back since they’d brought her in two days ago.
It felt like I was running on life support, too. Every inch of my being only lurched forward when the monitor beeped with another pulse of her heart. People came to see her and left again. It was her friend, Sharon, that had called me to tell me what had happened.
The baby was gone. It had been a girl. The pain that had come with the knowledge that she was no longer alive, would never see the light of day, had been as much of a surprise as it had been unbearable. I’d never wanted to be a father, but I’d never wished the child dead. This was unfair. This felt like some kind of punishment for doing the wrong thing, but I hadn’t been punished. It was an innocent child that had taken the fall, and it was unfair.
I put my hand on Camille’s arm. I’d been sitting here like this since I’d found out. She was warm but there was no life, not really. She wasn’t here. She was somewhere far away, caught up in the web of sorrow and despair and agony of what had happened.
A police officer knocked on the door before stepping into the room.
“Mr. Owen, may I talk to you for a moment?”
I nodded. The police had been in and out of the room since I’d arrived. It was about Marina. They’d arrested her. She needed a lawyer. I wasn’t going to pay for one. She’d hurt the one person that made me feel alive. She’d murdered a child. I didn’t know her. I didn’t know the woman who was my wife.
“The court date has been set for two weeks from now. I just wanted you to know.”
They didn’t have to tell me. They kept me updated, anyway. There was something so painful about losing a child the world grieved with you.
“Thank you, officer.”
He looked at Camille. “How is she doing?”
“No better.”
He nodded. He was the man that had taken Marina into custody. He was one of the first on the scene.
“We’re all rooting for you, for her.”
I nodded. I couldn’t say thank you. My voice caught in my throat and if I spoke or even looked at him I would start crying.
A woman that looked a lot like Camille arrived two days later. She had the same skin, the same hair, the same mouth. Her eyes were gray and she wasn’t smiling. When she saw Camille she clapped her hands to her mouth and started crying. I got up.
“Are you Camille’s mother?”
She looked at me and nodded. She touched her daughter’s leg through the covers.
“I don’t know what’s going on. I don’t understand.”
I walked out of the room and poured her a cup of water at the water cooler. She took it from me when I walked back into the room and took a sip.
“Did Camille tell you about the baby?”
She shook her head, cheeks still wet. I nodded and pulled a chair closer for her.
“The baby wasn’t hers.”
I started at the beginning and told her what Camille had done for us, how she’d ended up pregnant, how she lost the baby. Her mother cried the whole way through and my heart went out to her. I put my hand on her shoulder.
“I’m truly sorry for what your daughter has suffered. I will do everything in my power to make sure she comes out of this and finishes her degree. She only wants to make you proud.”
The mother, her name turned out to be Tracy, nodded and kept crying. There was nothing more I could do and I felt helpless and in pain. I couldn’t change anything. All the money in the world couldn’t save people.
She opened her eyes the next morning. I was the first person she looked at.
“The baby,” she croaked in a voice that was almost non-existent. I looked down at my hands. My lack of answer was enough. When I looked at her again, tears ran down her cheeks. I put a hand on her leg.
“I’m so sorry.”
She closed her eyes and nodded. I didn’t know what to do. I felt so damn helpless I wanted to scream.
“You mother is here.”
Her eyes widened, fear in them. Just as I said it Tracy walked through the door.
“Oh, my darling,” she said, crying again. “You should have told me.”
I left the room, leaving them to talk. There was a lot to say and I was sure I didn’t have to be present for the two of them to make amends.
Three hours later Tracy popped her head out of the door and said Camille was asking for me. I stood up. Tracy walked to me.
“You are a good man,” she said. “I don’t always agree with her choices, but you have been here for her when no one else would.”
She patted my hand and walked away. I wasn’t sure what to say. I walked into the room. Camille’s eyes were puffy from crying and her hands were on her stomach. I ached for her, feeling her loss and her pain.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“Don’t be. It’s not your fault.”
I sat down next to her and took her hand. She squeezed it and that small display of life meant more to me than she would ever know.
“Where is she?”
I knew who she meant. The baby. They kept her for us.
“We should name her before we lay her to rest. I’ll arrange a funeral if you’d like.”
She nodded. That was all we said about it. I changed the topic.
“Marina has been arrested. There were witnesses on campus that saw what she did. She’s been charged with assault and first-degree murder.”
Camille swallowed.
“How are you?”
I looked at her, frowning. After everything, she was asking about me?
“It was your baby too.”
I swallowed down a lump in my throat. “I thought I would lose you. I don’t know what I would have done if you didn’t make it.” My voice cracked and I swallowed again, taking a deep breath. “You’ve come to mean very much to me, Camille. More than anyone before. It might be too early to say this, but I nearly lost you and life is too damn short.”
I hesitated.
“I’m in love with you.”
I watched her face, trying to gauge her reaction to my words. Her face was soft and she cried again, tears rolling down her cheeks. I gave her a tissue.