“You . . . you were talking in your sleep,” Cadence whispered.
“Jesus,” he gasped. He slunk out of bed and walked to the bathroom. He closed the door softly and sat on the edge of the tub, cradling his face in his hands. The tears kept streaming, and he couldn’t stop them.
He heard a soft knock.
“I’ll be out in a minute,” he croaked.
She came in anyway and sat next to him.
“Just a bad dream,” he said, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.
Cadence nodded. She pulled his shirt over her knees to combat the chill in the bathroom. She was always stretching out his shirts, he noted.
“Do you wanna talk about it?” she asked tentatively.
He shrugged.
“It may help,” she offered.
He took a deep breath.
“I was married at twenty-three,” he began. “I know that’s young by today’s standards, but after my dad died, I wasn’t interested in playing the field. I wanted to find someone who loved me as much as I loved her, and build a home and life together.”
Cadence listened intently.
“Andy went to college with me. She was in this group of friends I had—Dylan included—and we hung out for about a year before anything romantic happened. Once I knew I loved her and wanted to spend the rest of my life with her, I didn’t hesitate. I was working. I’d saved up a little bit of cash, and spent it all on a ring.”
Cadence nodded.
“No regrets. I was broke after that and didn’t care. I’d buy her a million rings if I could.”
Mark paused for a moment.
“We did the whole broke young married couple thing. Lived in a tiny apartment after we graduated—”
“This apartment?” Cadence asked. Oh my God! Was she just sleeping in their bed? Had she been making love to Mark right where Andy had slept—had made love to him?
“No, Cadence. I moved after she died.”
Cadence relaxed a little.
“I landed teaching job. She worked as a secretary. Our lives were nothing special—well, to the outside world. We were ordinary. Maybe even a little bit boring. But we thought we lived the most exciting lives. Because we had each other.”
Cadence averted her eyes. The more he talked, the further away she felt from him. And the more she sensed his broken heart, still longing for another woman.
“The pregnancy was an accident. Her birth control decided to stop working. We weren’t being irresponsible. It was just one of those unexplainable events. So we took it as a sign that we were supposed to have a kid.” He paused. “Well, she took it as a sign. Something didn’t sit right with me about any of it.”
Silence.
“Pregnancy was great. We turned the guest bedroom into a nursery. Everything was ready. When she went into labor, it was normal. The delivery was fine until the end. I knew something was wrong when the doctor and nurses whispered to one another. They pulled the baby from her and took him somewhere. And then there was this moment of complete quiet and stillness.”
He stared off, thinking.
“Like everything moved in slow motion. Andy looked at me and said, ‘I don’t feel good. Something’s wrong,’ and then complete panic. The blood. The blood was pouring out of her. And they couldn’t stop it.”
Cadence cried quietly, surreptitiously wiping her tears so that he wouldn’t see.
“And they pushed me out of the room. Separated me from her as they tried to save her. It was futile. She died fairly quickly. I learned later that bleeding out is like falling into REM sleep. Doesn’t really hurt. You just feel extremely tired, and then everything stops.” He paused. “Well, obviously your eyes don’t move.”
More silence.
Cadence looked at Mark. His eyes were puffy and bloodshot. And vacant.
“That morning, there were two of us. About to be three. I was the only one who made it out.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
She felt ugly in her heart for the inability to compartmentalize her emotions. They were too much right now, and they swirled together in one fantastic, murky mess: anger that he kept this secret from her, sadness for his loss, heartbreak over his cruel words during their fight. She couldn’t make sense of them or what she was supposed to do. Comfort him and move on? But what about her comfort? He had marginalized her—made her feel stupid and unimportant—and she couldn’t shake it. Nor could she walk out of the bathroom and leave him to suffer alone in his grief. She was stuck and realized she’d have to play the good girlfriend tonight. She didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, but tonight she would give to him whatever he needed.
“I should have told you I was married,” Mark said after a time. “But I could never find the right moment. And I didn’t want to relive that day all over again. I do that enough in my dreams.”
“I understand.”
He looked at her for the first time since she came into the bathroom.
“I’m sorry for minimalizing your life and your past.”
Cadence shook her head.
“I said those things in anger, and I don’t believe them. I didn’t believe them when I said them.”