And ever has it been known that
Love knows not its own depth
Until the hour of separation
Out of suffering have emerged the strongest
souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars.
Present Day
July 2011
I've spent the past week at my parents' house, and successfully dodged a one-on-one conversation with my mother. I love my mother and value her opinion, which is exactly why I can't have that conversation with her. The guilt is eating at me; if I don't have an ulcer, I will soon.
I'm trying to nap on the bed in their guest room when I hear the soft knock. Sighing, I open my eyes, preparing to get up and open the door, but my mother just comes in without waiting.
"Edward," she begins, and I cringe. She huffs. "Now, none of that. If you think I don't know you're avoiding me, you're naïve."
I chuckle ruefully. "I should have known."
She sits in the armchair and takes my nearest hand into hers. "I know that this was a hard decision for you," she says softly, and I raise an eyebrow. "And I know that's an understatement." She runs her hand through my hair. I have to look away from the sympathy shining out from her eyes.
"Ma," I start, but she holds up her free hand.
"Hear me out. You are my son. Even while I was pregnant with you, you were no less my child. I loved you as soon as I found out about you."
"Did a rabbit have to die?" I ask, trying to lighten the mood.
She swats me on the arm. "Of course not. The point is, I would have grieved for the child that could have been. That's what Bella did. She missed out on giving birth, on hearing her son's first cry, on all of the firsts. He didn't get the chance to grow into a proud young man." She strokes my cheek as I fight back tears. "You need to grieve, Edward. You need to mourn the loss of your son. Hell, you need to mourn the loss of your marriage."
I'm trying so hard not to cry that my eyes ache, and I say the first thing that comes to mind. "I'm scared, Ma. I'm scared that if I start crying, I'll never stop." I bite back a sob, then lean forward and hug my mother's warm body to mine, grabbing ahold of the back of her shirt.
"Let it out, son." She rocks with me, the way we used to do when I was little, and my walls crumble like grains of sand.
The sob rushes out, and before I know it, tears are pouring down my face, scalding my cheeks. Animalistic sounds choke their way up my throat, and I clutch my mother close to me, the emotions swirling in my gut and spewing from my mouth. My pain wells up, exploding in a long wail that I try to bury in her shirt. I can't catch my breath, and I start to hyperventilate, the vise squeezing my chest in fury.
"Deep breaths, baby, don't forget to breathe," Mom soothes.
"My son died, Mama! I never got to me-meet him!" I sob uncontrollably. Esme pats my back, alternating with rubbing circles.
"I know, sweetie, I'm so sorry." Rocking, still rocking.
"Wha-what ha-have I-I d-done?" I stutter, burying my head in her shoulder and shaking with my grief. I squeeze my mother until I'm afraid I'll hurt her, but God, I've missed affection. I miss my wife; I don't even know what's become of her.
"I-I've d-done th-the wr-wr-wrong th-thing, have-haven't I?" I choke out.
"Shh, you just need to give Bella space now. She needs to figure out what she wants."
"Wh-what if-if sh-she ne-never wan-wants me b-back? Oh, God!" The reality of what I did sinks in, and I'm terrified that I've lost everything. I'm crying so hard my chest hurts with the sobs wracking through me. I sit clutching my mother, trying to gain comfort like I did as a child. A long time passes as I try to reign in control of myself, my breath coming out in hiccuping sighs..
"You'll have to wait it out. What's done is done. You made your decision, now you have to live with the consequences."
"Don't sound so logical." I'm annoyed now; she's gotten what she wanted, and I'm a crying mess. "I need to be alone, Ma," I mumble. I feel her nod, and she hugs me tightly before getting up, leaving the room and closing the door behind her.
I fall back on the bed, exhausted and overwhelmed. One day, I was going to have a son, and the next, he was gone. No tiny blue outfits with ducks on them, no teaching him how to ride a bike. No throwing a ball in the big backyard that was meant for a horde of children. No watching Bella as she grew rounded in the belly with our child inside. No chance to feel him kick, to watch her nurture our son and protect him.
I roll over in the bed and scream my rage into the pillow, squeezing the concave chasm where my heart used to be.
~~~oOo~~~
I spend the rest of the day in bed, trying to sleep. Nightmares plague me, Bella starring in all of them. Either she's dead, or she's holding a baby that disappears. The nursery in our house changes from complete, with a baby in the crib, to empty and unpainted. Restless, overheated, and pissed at myself, I get up and leave the room, making my way down to the kitchen. There's no one around, but my mother left a note on the counter that there's food in the fridge.
Ignoring that, I get a drink instead, trying to cool down. I strip my shirt off, tossing it on the counter and leaning against it. I rub my head with my hands, scrubbing my eyes roughly. I feel the stubble I've let grow as I run my hands over my face. I feel at a loss. I'm not ready to go back to work, but I can't stay here.
I call Alice, insisting that she check with Jasper before agreeing to let me stay there for a while. After all, he was Bella's friend first; maybe he thinks I'm an asshole. He'd be right.
I pack the few things I brought with me and scribble a note to my parents. I love them, but they're not who I need right now.
The drive helps to clear my head, especially since I leave the windows down and turn my music up loud, drowning out the voices competing in my brain. It's dark when I pull into their complex. Alice comes to the door, Jasper standing tall and protective behind her.
"Hey," I say, feeling shy.
"Come on, big brother. Come in." Alice moves aside, but Jasper just stands there, arms crossed over his chest.
"Say it, Jazz. Just get it out." I brace myself for whatever he's about to throw my way.
"Bella finally responded to me. She texted to say she's fine, but wouldn't elaborate." His foot is tapping in agitation.
"That's a relief. She won't answer anybody else." I rub my hand over the back of my neck, a nervous tell.
"I'm mad at you both, Edward. It took both of you to ruin what it took both of you to build. I don't blame you and not hold her responsible. I can't do that. I don't think you should have left, but she wasn't makin' any effort either." His easy drawl is more clipped than usual.
"I understand if you hate me. If you're really not comfortable with me here, I'll find something else." A hotel would be boring, but I can do that if it's what he wants.
"I don't hate you. Like I said, it was mutual." He steps back finally and I head inside. Alice shows me to the guest room, which she has set up beautifully.
"Edward," she says quietly. "You can't place all the blame on your shoulders. Like Jazz said, you're both adults. Just don't shut down like you did after Tanya. You are a wonderful person. You tried your best to be a great husband, and you were. You took on so much so that Bella didn't have to, and you never accepted credit. You also never let out your emotions."
"You and Mom have the same idea," I tell her. "Don't worry, I cried my heart out today."
"Okay," she says, then hugs me tightly. I bend down a little, since she's so short. "I saw Bella," she whispers in my ear. I straighten abruptly.
"What?" I say, a tad too loud, but I'm shocked.
"Shh," she admonishes. "I didn't even tell Jasper. He and I have different opinions about her. I just thought you should know that she looks really good. She's not as skinny, and her skin has some color again."
Reeling, I try to focus on Alice's face. "Wait, she looks better?" I try to consider this information rationally, but all I can think is that she really is better off without me.
"Like she's been eating, yeah. And she was outside, which is a plus. It was just a glimpse." She studies my face. "I thought the news would make you happy."
I fake a smile, but it feels wrong on my face. "Yeah, it's great news, Ali. Thanks."
She frowns, not fooled by me. "Well, get some sleep."
I sit on the bed as she leaves the room, feeling the tears like brands as they plop onto my folded hands. Shaking, shaken at the news, I fall back on the bed. And cry myself to sleep.
No comments:
Post a Comment