How Long Is Forever?

by Erin M. Leaf

  “Sweetheart, I wish I was there, too. I’d pick you up and dry you off, and then tuck you into bed with me,” he said, sighing. “You’d sleep in my arms all night.”

  “Sounds nice.” She rested her head against the rim of the bathtub, wishing with all her heart that real life wasn’t so freaking hard. Her limbs felt heavy and tired. The thought of getting up and out of the tub exhausted her. You should tell him, she thought, but didn’t. “I’m really sleepy now,” she said, instead of coming clean about the baby. It wasn’t even a lie. All of her anxiety and confusion of the past few weeks had worn her to bits. Before she could fall asleep and drown, she lifted the drain plug with her toes. “My muscles feel like jelly.”

  “You should dry off and go to sleep, Eva,” Charlie said.

  She nodded as the water drained. The chill of the air woke her a little, so she stood up and began to dry off. “I’m getting dressed now.”

  “Good. I had visions of you slipping under the water and drowning,” Charlie said, sounding just as tired as she felt.

  Eva pulled on her pajamas. “You should go to sleep, too.”

  “I will,” he promised.

  That was good enough for her. Eva didn’t even bother brushing her hair as she grabbed her phone and stumbled to her bedroom. She was going to wake up with a gnarled mess on her head, but she was too beat to care. “I’m going to sleep for a week.” She got into bed and pulled up the covers, yawning.

  “That’s not a bad thing. It’ll be one week closer to me being home,” Charlie said softly. “Dream of me.”

  “Okay,” Eva murmured, eyes closing as she tucked the phone under her pillow. “Love you.” If he replied, she couldn’t hear him as darkness sucked her down.

  ****

  Charlie lay on the bed, spunk all over his stomach, frozen in place. When Eva had whispered those two words just before disconnecting the call, his heart had nearly burst out of his damned chest. She was sleepy, and he wasn’t even sure she realized what she’d said to him, but that just meant it was more likely to be true. To be real. God, he wished he were home, instead of here, dealing with stupid contracts and stupid people.

  “I love you, too,” he said softly, just to try out the words. The syllables fell into the bleak silence of his lonely hotel room, and he sighed. They weren’t at all difficult to say, and that scared the shit out of him. “You’re an idiot,” he told himself, louder. Those words echoed back at him, and he grimaced.

  He’d just realized that for all his worrying about their age difference, it didn’t matter. He’d already fallen too hard and too deep to deny the truth. He loved Eva. Even if she ended up pushing him away sometime in the future, she was his woman, and he would be her man for the rest of his life, no matter what happened. He’d never been one for commitment, but he’d fallen hard and fast and hadn’t even realized it. And right now, he wished he could hold his woman, and make her feel better, instead of just seducing her into phone sex. More than ever, he realized that Eva was it, for him. She was the one.

  “And ain’t that a kick in the head,” he muttered, rolling over to grab a handful of tissues from the nightstand. “After all this time alone, thinking I’d be a bachelor for the rest of my life, I fucking fall for my best friend’s daughter. God.” He tossed the rolled-up wad of tissues in the direction of the trashcan, not caring that he missed. He needed to get home. He needed to find out why Eva sounded so different lately. Oh, sure, the sex just now was sweet, and he knew she’d enjoyed it, but there was something bothering her. Something more than her just being tired from work. He could sense it, and it hurt the way a toothache nagged at a person. Something had her worried, and he needed to find out what it was, and either fix it or help her handle it because that’s what you did when you loved someone. He’d learned that from the way Phil cared for his wife and daughter. The same daughter he was now in love with. He had a hell of a lot to live up to.

  God, you’re an idiot, Charlie, he told himself, staring at the ceiling until he finally realized that sleep was never going to happen when his mind was such a fucking mess. And his heart hurt. Being in love sucked. “Because I can’t do anything to help her from two states away.” He frowned, then sat up. “Fuck it.” He grabbed his phone and shot off a quick text to his cousin.

  Charlie: can you handle the last few supplier interviews without me? I want to head home in the morning

  RJ: Yeah, no problem. Does this mean you’ve finally come to your senses?

  Charlie: I’m not answering that

  RJ: Uh huh. Give the girl a kiss from me

  Charlie rolled his eyes. Leave it to RJ to know immediately why Charlie was going home. The man had been nagging him about Eva this entire trip.

  Charlie: fuck you, I ain’t kissing her for you

  RJ: buy a ring before you leave, there’s a nice jeweler’s shop down the road, local metal artist

  Charlie sighed. Of course there was, and of course RJ knew about it. “Saves me from having to look one up, I suppose,” he muttered, half annoyed, and half grateful. He pursed his lips, then replied.

  Charlie: yes mother

  RJ: kiss kiss

  Charlie didn’t bother to answer that. RJ was an asshole. A useful asshole, but still an asshole. He tossed his phone on the nightstand and shut off the light. For the first time in weeks he felt sleepy. His stomach didn’t hurt. Had the answer to his insomnia been so easy all along? Marry her, the voice in the back of his head said. That voice sounded suspiciously like Phil, his best friend and Eva’s stepdad. It always said the same thing to him, but for the first time he answered:

  “I’m going to, Phil. I promise.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Eva took off from work the next day. It was a Thursday, which made taking off problematic, but she couldn’t care less at this point. The high from the phone sex with Charlie had long since worn off. She’d woken up that morning feeling completely run down, and something told her that she really needed a day to just get her shit together, if she could get her shit together. Life felt insurmountable. She hadn’t felt this depressed since the first days after her mother’s funeral. Fortunately, most of her morning sickness seemed to have eased up, so she’d spent half the day in bed, staring at her ceiling because she was just too sad to get up. Gravity weighed her down. Gravity weighed her down hard.

  “Pregnancy hormones suck,” she muttered, finally. “You’re a grownup. Get out of bed and start acting like one.” When she rolled over, the clock on her wall told her it was almost one in the afternoon. She hadn’t eaten all day. Why was she so damned depressed? Oh, yeah. She hadn’t told Charlie about the baby yet. And she had no idea what the hell she was going to do with an infant.

  “But you have to tell him. He deserves to know,” she informed herself, sliding out of bed. Once she got herself standing up and halfway mobile, she went into the bathroom and washed her face with cold water, thinking that it would shock her awake if nothing else. It did, sort of, if making herself hate the universe just that tiny bit more counted as waking up. She stared in the mirror. She looked a bit pale, but considering she’d been throwing up every day for almost a month, that wasn’t surprising. Thank God that had stopped. She couldn’t imagine how women who suffered it for their entire pregnancy functioned at all. “Put on your big girl panties, Eva,” she said, pointing at her reflection. “No one else is going to do it for you.”

  An hour later she’d managed to eat something, and drink two entire glasses of water. Dehydration was not good for her, or the baby. She felt a little better, but that wasn’t saying much. Depression had a way of picking at the psyche until even the simplest things felt impossible. When you had to do something not simple, like inform your boyfriend of an unexpected pregnancy, and you were scared to death of what might happen, life turned grim.

  “Just freaking call him,” she muttered, staring at the remains of her sandwich. She poked at a crust of bread. “Just do it.” But instead of picking up her cell phone, or cleari
ng away her plate, she staggered up and went back to bed, landing face down on the comforter. She was just so freaking tired. She’d call him in a minute. Or maybe five.

  An hour later, Eva sat up in a tangled mess of sheets and comforter. She put her fingers on her face and prodded. “What the hell,” she muttered. Her skin felt weird. She was woozy. She hadn’t actually meant to fall asleep again; she was just going to rest for a bit. “I must really need the rest. Maybe I should take tomorrow off, too. Have a long weekend,” she mumbled, rubbing her face until it hurt. As anticipated, her hair felt like a snarled rat’s nest on the back of her head, and she grimaced. If Charlie showed up right now, he’d run screaming the other direction. And for more reason than how I look, she mused grimly.

  She sighed, then swung her legs over the side of the bed. She had to pee. And she had to stop moping around like such a loser. She had to be responsible, because she had another life depending on her now. She had so many things she had to do, she felt like she was maybe going crazy, but she also just felt numb.

  “Which is just … strange. Hmm.” For a moment, for the first time since she’d realized that her missing periods were a thing, a hint of joy struck her. Having a baby meant she’d have a family again. Even if Charlie wasn’t okay with it, she kind of was. Wasn’t she? The numbness receded just a bit. She’d missed being part of something bigger than herself. She’d lost her father and then her mom so quickly she hadn’t really even finished mourning them. She walked over to her dresser and looked at her mother’s picture.

  “You would be so happy about this, wouldn’t you, Mom?” she asked softly, touching the cool glass. Her mother smiled up at her, and Eva sensed a bright rush of love seep into her. She put her hand on her stomach and smiled. “I’m going to take care of you,” she promised her baby. She straightened her spine. It didn’t matter that she was scared. It didn’t matter that she was depressed, or sick, or any number of other things. She had to think about the future, and that meant talking to Charlie.

  “You’ll tell him tonight, on the phone,” she said, testing out the idea in her head. “And maybe he’ll be angry, but so what?” She shuffled to the bathroom. “He’s not a violent guy. He’s not a jerk. Isn’t that why you wanted him to be your first lover? You picked him specifically because you knew he was a good guy.” She remembered how resistant he’d been to the idea, and she had to laugh. He’d caved in to her pretty quickly, and then … wow. He’d hadn’t just popped her cherry; he’d made love to her over and over again: sweet and hot and amazing. He’d been awesome. He’d been everything she ever wanted. “And he still is, which is the problem, I guess,” she murmured. The face looking back at her in the mirror still looked drawn and tired, but her expression had eased a bit.

  “You can do this,” she told herself, and then she pushed down her pajama pants and sat on the toilet, still grumbling to herself. “Okay, so maybe he really didn’t want to be in a permanent relationship, but what man does? Maybe he’s just scared. Maybe he’ll be okay with the baby,” she said as she peed. When she reached for the toilet paper, she frowned, suddenly lightheaded again. “God, what the hell is wrong with me? I must really need to get some sleep.” She wiped, and then went to throw out the paper, when a streak of blood caught her eye.

  Eva gasped, hands shaking. “No. Oh my God, no!”

  ****

  “Okay. This is it. Think positive, man,” Charlie murmured as he let himself into Eva’s house, feeling as nervous as a teenage boy on his first date. He quietly shut the door behind him, wondering if Eva was even home. Her car was in her driveway, but sometimes she took the long bus to the city so she didn’t have to do the park and ride thing, so that was no guarantee she was inside. He’d spent the day driving down from upstate New York, even though he knew she might not be home from work when he got there. In fact, she probably wasn’t, but he couldn’t go to his place. He’d wait for her here for the rest of the day if he had to, because he had a ring in his pocket and a question on his mind, and he hoped to God that Eva didn’t break his heart. And if she does, I’ll just try again until she realizes that I’m her guy, he promised himself.

  He stepped into her living room, smiling at the scent of strawberry tea. She loved the stuff. He’d forever associate the scent of it with her. When he saw the remains of a lunch on her table, his smile slipped away. Was she home? That was odd. He checked the time on his phone. It really was too early for her to be here.

  “Hello? Eva?” he called out, heading for the kitchen. Before he’d taken two steps, a horror filled cry from the bathroom tripped his heart into overdrive. The next thing he knew, he was in the hallway outside of the bathroom, pounding on the door. “Eva! Are you okay?” He was afraid to open the door. The moment he did, nothing would be the same again. Dread squeezed his chest.

  “Charlie! Is that you?” Eva cried out, sounding like someone had a hand on her throat. “Help. I need you.”

  That was all the permission he needed to go through the closed door. He rushed inside and found her sitting on the toilet, clutching a bloody wad of tissues. “Sweetheart?” He went to his knees. His mind raced. Did she get her period? Why would that upset her so much?

  “I think I’m losing the baby, Charlie,” she sobbed, and he froze, stunned.

  Baby? What baby?

  “I don’t want to lose it.” She swiped at her face, rubbing red streaks into her cheeks. “I didn’t know how much I wanted it until just now. I thought it was a disaster. I thought you would hate me.” She started crying.

  Oh my God. A baby, his mind stuttered, even as he gathered her into his arms. He ignored the blood. Eva needed him. “Honey, I’m here. It’s going to be okay. Shh, it’s okay.”

  “I didn’t know how to tell you,” she cried, clutching at his shirt. “I felt so guilty, because I forgot about how antibiotics mess up the pill, and it must have happened almost as soon as we started this thing, whatever this thing is, and I’m so sorry.” She looked up at him, face devastated. “I’m so sorry. I know you didn’t want to have to deal with something permanent, and I won’t force you to stay, but I don’t know what to do.” She cried harder.

  Antibiotics mess up the pill? What does that mean? he wondered, but she started gasping for air before he could ask. She was panicking, which meant that he had to keep his shit together. Charlie inhaled, and pushed all his questions to the back of his head. His woman was sick, and distraught, and she needed him. Everything could wait. Right now, he had to take care of her. Somewhere deep inside panic welled up, but he pushed that down, too. He would not let himself freak out right now. Eva was going to be okay. He’d make sure of it. “Shh, it’s okay, baby,” he soothed, grabbing more tissues to wipe her face. He had to clean the blood off. “I’m not mad. I’m here. It’s going to be okay. I promise.”

  She grabbed the tissues from him and scrubbed at her face until it was blotchy. Even upset, she looked adorable. He couldn’t believe he’d been so stupid, thinking that he couldn’t let himself love her. What the fuck did you think was going to happen, moron? he told himself. Did you think you could just fuck her and then let her go? Ha. Fat chance. This is Eva. Phil’s little girl. You’ve always loved her, you dumbass.

  “It’s not a lot of blood, but I don’t know what to do,” she was saying.

  Charlie forced himself to deal with the moment, instead of chasing the terror of what-if in circles around his head. He glanced down at the tissues she’d let fall to the floor. It looked like a hell of a lot of blood to him, but what did he know? He’d never even seen a period in real life before, let alone a miscarriage. He took a deep breath. Now was not the time to be squeamish.

  “Do you have a doctor, honey? Is there someone we can call?” Even as he said the words, he wondered if he should just pick her up and take her to the emergency room.

  She nodded. “Yeah. I went to see her a few days ago. She said everything looked good, but she was wrong. Obviously.” She stared down at the floor sadly. “I even
had a sonogram.”

  I have no idea what that is, he thought, but it didn’t matter. He cradled her in his arms, afraid to hold onto her too tightly. She felt so damned fragile to him. So small. “Does your belly hurt? Cramps? Anything?” he asked her.

  Eva shook her head. “No. I just feel tired. A little lightheaded, but that might be because I haven’t been eating.”

  “You haven’t been eating?” Charlie frowned. Now that he thought about it, she looked like she’d lost weight. And if she was really pregnant, that was bad, wasn’t it? “Have you been sick?” He’d read about some women getting morning sickness so bad they couldn’t keep anything down. Would Eva have hidden that from him? Could she have hidden that? You went off on a business trip right when she needed you most, he told himself. Guilt pricked at him. It was an emotion that had become way too familiar.

  “Yeah. I was throwing up in the morning and sometimes at night, but that went away the past few days. I thought I was over the worst of it,” she said, and then she sighed. “I was more upset about telling you than anything else. I was afraid to tell you.”

  Charlie pulled her into a hug. That admission just about killed him. Because he’d clearly made her feel as if she couldn’t count on him when things got tough. I’m a selfish bastard, he thought, wishing he could punch himself in the face for making her feel so lost and alone. Phil would be livid. Shame flashed through him, jolting his stomach.

  “I’m sorry, Charlie,” Eva said again, holding onto him.

  “Don’t be sorry. You didn’t do a damn thing wrong,” he said, swallowing hard against the emotion lodged in his throat. She felt so small in his arms, and it struck him all over again how fragile life was. He’d felt it when his brother died, and then again when they’d lost Phil. And now, with Eva so vulnerable and sick… He gritted his teeth, telling himself not to go there. She would be okay. He couldn’t imagine a reality where she wasn’t.