Something hot and uncomfortable stirred in my gut. “I know how we made the baby, Katie. Thanks. And I know I broke his heart by losing the baby, so I really don’t need the reminder right now.”
Katie ignored my tone and continued. “She also said he mentioned that you didn’t even tell him until after you got back from the hospital. What the fuck, girl?”
My mouth dropped open as guilt moved like black smoke through me.
“You know, I get that you have these fears and concerns about how Nick really feels about you, but you have to be dumb as a motherfucker not to see the truth.”
“Okay,” I said after a second. “That’s like the second or third time you’ve called me dumb, and I really don’t like that or have the patience for this conversation right now.”
“Too bad,” she replied, eyes sharpening. “Because there’s something you’re not getting.”
I rolled onto my back, clenching my jaw. “I think I get it.”
“No. You don’t.” She waited until my gaze found hers. “But you will.”
Exhaling loudly, I struggled to keep a grasp on my patience. “I’m really tired. I think I need to—”
“Talk about how unfair it is that you lost the baby? Or how much it hurts?” she answered for me. “We can talk about it.”
“I don’t need to talk about that.”
She raised both brows. “That’s not true. You’re not okay. Talking is important. Get the anger and emotion out.” She paused. “Or when you’re feeling better, get on the pole. That’s one hell of a workout and a great way to get the anger out.”
Dumbfounded, all I could do was stare. “Are you psychic and a counselor?”
“Aren’t they one in the same?”
“What even . . . ?” I lifted my hand, pressing it to my forehead. “I can’t deal with this right now.”
“No one expects you to deal. This is something tragic, girl. Happens all the time, to people all across the world. Doesn’t mean it sucks any less. And it doesn’t mean your pain is any less. You’re not okay.”
The air got stuck in my throat. “I am okay.”
Katie shook her head. “Nope.”
My eyes narrowed. “Yeah, I am.”
“Keep telling yourself that.”
I sat up, staring at her. “What in the hell? I said I’m okay. I’m okay, for fuck’s sake.”
She folded slender arms across her waist. “You can tell me that all you want, but I know better. Everyone knows better.”
“Everyone knows . . .” I shook my head, painfully aware of the limp strands of hair smacking my cheeks. In that moment, I don’t think there was anyone I hated more than Katie. “I can’t deal with this right now,” I repeated, my hand curling into a fist.
Katie tilted her head to the side. “Of course not. Who would be able to deal with this right now?”
There were no words, because, good God, we were talking in one giant, messed up circle.
A tide of violent, unstable emotions rose inside me as I reached down and grabbed the comforter. My hand shook as I tossed it off my legs. I stood, pushing my hair out of my face with a frantic shove. “I’m okay.”
Katie said nothing.
The trembling danced over my fingers and rose up my arms. “I’m fine,” I said, and the tide overcame me, rising up and washing over, like a levee breaking. “I”m okay.” I backed up, hitting the wall. “I’m okay!”
She rose from the bed, her face crumbling as she whispered, “It’s all right.”
No.
That was the thing. It wasn’t all right. Oh God, none of this was okay.
Something strong broke inside of me. The burning in my eyes and throat were no longer manageable. Katie’s shape blurred, and somewhere, someone was screaming those two damn words over and over, and it was a lie. It was such a stupid, fucking lie.
And I’d messed up. I knew I had in more ways than I was even considering, and it wasn’t okay. And I didn’t know how to make it okay or where to even start. There was no manual on this, no amount of Googling that was going to fix this.
Tears streamed down my face as my chest heaved with a broken sob. Katie’s arms came around me and tightened as my knees gave out and I slid down the wall, taking her with me. My head fell to her shoulder. “I’m not,” I whispered. “I’m not okay.”
Chapter 29
I finally slept.
There really was no other option for me. I’d cried myself sick, into dry heaves, and I cried myself into a mindless exhaustion that could only be cured by climbing into my bed. I don’t know how long I slept, but waking up was like dragging myself out of gritty quicksand. My eyes, swollen and weary, felt plastered shut, and I wasn’t ready to attempt to peel them open and face reality, face the loss of a future I hadn’t known how badly I wanted until it was gone. And face the ugly truth that my insecurities concerning my relationship with Nick, valid or not, had led me to make selfish, cowardly choices when it came to involving him in what was happening. I also just didn’t . . . didn’t want to see him hurt, and trying to protect him from that had backfired.