“Sweetheart, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry but the baby … the baby didn’t make it,” I whisper.
“What? No,” She looks at me confused and then shakes her head. “You’re wrong,” she pauses to study my face. “Anthony! Stop it! Tell me the truth,” she demands and sits up pushing away my hands from her shoulders.
“I wish I was,” I mumble before reaching for her again only to have her shrug my hands away.
“No you’re lying. Why would you say something like that?” Angry tears make their way down her face. “I know you’re lying because I’d feel something. I’d feel different some way and I feel nothing. Stop looking at me like that, Anthony. Stop it!” She yells as her body shakes with sobs.
“I’m sorry A, I wish I was wrong,” I whisper.
“I’d feel it!” She demands through her tears as she lays her hand over her stomach. She looks at me, her eyes pleading with mine to tell her what she wants to hear. “No,” she whimpers. “No. No. No,” She shakes her head violently.
I take her into my arms, her fists clench my shirt as she sobs against my chest. I cry right along with her as we mourn the child we never had a chance to know, the child taken from us, the child that will forever live in our hearts.
Chapter Nine: 2013
I took a deep breath trying to sanction the brave girl I once appeared to have been. I smoothed down the oversized sweater I wore which I had paired with black leggings and tucked a few loose tendrils of hair behind my ears. I stared at the wooden door, chewing on my lip, debating if I was about to make a huge mistake.
My knuckles rapped against the door loudly as the girl I missed so much began to surface. I dropped my hand to my hip and waited impatiently before ringing the bell. Maybe it was a mistake coming here, clearly this was God’s way of telling me to walk away. I was about to do just that when the door swung open and Anthony’s whole body filled the frame.
“Hi,” I said nervously as his eyes did a full scan of me, starting at my eyes, and working their way down to my shoes. Did I mention I was happy I squeezed my swollen feet into these cute suede ankle boots? It was completely worth the agony.
He leaned casually against the door shirtless, his heavily tattooed arms stretched over his head hanging onto the doorjamb, and I started to inspect his chest for other tattoos. I forced my eyes from the soft dusting of hair that disappeared into the waistband of his sweats and met his stare.
“Hi,” he mumbled.
“Can I come in…please?” I asked him as my fingers twisted the hem of my sweater. He didn’t answer right away, just looked at me in that lost way of his and then his eyes softened like they usually did for me. He dropped his hands, opened the door wider, and stepped aside.
I stepped inside thrown off my axis by the familiar scent of his cologne. It was funny how one particular scent could bring back so many memories, both good and bad. After he went away, I bought a bottle of that very same cologne. I sprayed my pillow so I’d never forget the way he smelled when he held me at night.
He closed the door and turned around so we were facing each other. There was a time in our lives when we couldn’t stay silent around one another if someone paid us. Yet here we were, so quiet we could hear each other’s breaths. You would think after three years of being a part we’d have so much to say to one another.
“How’s the baby?” He asked hoarsely then cleared his throat to level his voice. I loved that he broke the ice with a question regarding my sweet baby boy. Another man wouldn’t have done that, another man would’ve been bitter.
“He’s good. My mom is watching him,” I said, smiling.
Anthony shoved his hands inside the pockets of his sweatpants and nodded. “That’s good,” he responded tearing his eyes from me.
“I came here to thank you,” I said, wishing he wouldn’t look away from me. “I don’t think I could’ve gotten through child birth without you.”
“Yeah, you could’ve,” he lifted his head, our eyes meeting and I swear there was the slightest trace of a smile on his lips. “You did good, Reese’s. Real good.”
I opened my mouth to speak but closed it not able to trust my voice. That name, that silly name, it broke my heart to hear him say it now. I missed the times he’d whisper it against my ear. The most intimate moments and the most heartbreaking all ended with that word.
“You want something to drink? I don’t have much but I have water and beer,” he asked, tipping his chin towards the kitchen.
I shook my head.
“The teddy bear…” I managed to say.
“Just throw it out, I know you probably have a dozen of them.”
“I loved it,” I cut him off.
He sighed heavily, running his fingers through his hair as he glanced around the room before focusing back on me.