The words that you whispered
For just us to know
You told me you loved me
So why did you go away
I do recall now the smell of the rain
The beat of your heart
As it jumps through your shirt
And I can still feel your arms
Because I love your handshake, meeting my father
I love how you walk with your hands in your pockets
How you kissed me when I was in the middle of saying something
There's not a day I don't miss those rude interruptions
So I'll watch your life in pictures like I used to watch you sleep
And I feel you forget me like I used to feel you breathe
And I hope the sun shines
And it's a beautiful day
And something reminds you
You wish you had stayed
You can plan for a change in weather and time
But I never planned on you changing your mind
But now I'll go sit on the floor
Wearing your clothes
All that I know is
I don't know how to be something you miss
I never thought we'd have a last kiss
Never imagined we'd end up like this
Your name, forever the name on my lips
~Taylor Swift, Last Kiss
September 2011
BPOV
(24 weeks)
I make a last minute decision to stop by the library and visit with Carmen on the way home from therapy. She was a friend to me, and even though I can't see myself coming back yet, I want to see her kind face. Besides, it's my twenty-sixth birthday, and I need a distraction from the reminder of when Edward and I met.
Her eyes widen as she sees me coming towards the circulation desk, and I chuckle. "Hey, Carmen."
"Bella! You look amazing, my dear!" I accept her hug, and she steps back to study my face, still clutching my shoulders. "I've missed some things, huh?"
I smile. "Yeah, I guess so. Can we sit?"
"Absolutely." She leads me to two armchairs, and we sit together. She reaches over and takes my hand, holding it in hers on my knee. "What is this?" She gestures to my abdomen. "I saw Edward in June, I think it was, and he said nothing."
"He doesn't know, Carmen," I say quietly.
She gasps, and I can't blame her. "What do you mean?"
"He left. Um, at the end of June, actually." I twist my fingers around hers nervously.
"Left? Like on a business trip?" Yeah, lady, it's impossible to wrap your brain around, huh?
"He left me, moved out." Her eyes widen again, this time in horror.
"He mentioned you were having a hard time of it, and wanted to know if I had any suggestions. I told him to just give you time. What the hell is leaving going to do for you, and this bebe?"
"I didn't find out I was pregnant until he'd already left. I was in a bad place for months, Carmen. You know how hard it was for me when my parents died." I take a deep breath. "I don't want to guilt him into coming back."
"Then what? Because you know you have to tell him." She stares at me pointedly.
"Yeah." I nod and push my hair behind my ear. "I've been going to a therapist, you know, a counselor. I don't want meds, so I've been using other techniques to help me cope with stress. I started taking better care of myself. Originally, because of my miscarriage and the unexplained infertility, I met with a high risk obstetrician. Thankfully, they saw no reason I couldn't treat this as a normal pregnancy. Still, I'm being incredibly careful." I pause, trying to arrange my words carefully. "I could have handled things better. I know that I'm self-critical, and I should have shared my problems and my feelings with Edward. We could have worked through them together. I was so afraid of failing, and then I didn't know what the hell to do when Mom and Dad died." Talking about them still brings tears to the surface.
"I hope you aren't blaming only yourself for this mess. I'm sure there were things Edward could have handled differently," Carmen says, always my champion.
"I'm not blaming myself for all of it, just trying to take responsibility. There were two of us." I look down. "Soon three, when this baby girl comes. I'm scared he'll turn me away when I show him how far I've come."
"I don't think he will. That man loves you, Bella. Very much, I believe. Eleazar remarked on it as well." Carmen soothes her fingers over mine, and I instantly feel better.
"I sincerely hope you're right."
~~~oOo~~~
Back at the house, I wander through the rooms, my hand trailing along Edward's piano, and I wonder if he misses playing. I wonder if he misses me, or if he's moved on. I shake my head at myself, feeling confident that he wouldn't move on that quickly. Then, what? What does he do every day?
Heading upstairs, I open the door to the soft green nursery. I remember the day Renee and Esme painted it for me, such a long time ago. That was yet another day that broke me. I was cobbling myself together after each blow, instead of talking about what was wrong and taking the steps to fix it. I hid my problems from Edward, afraid he would think less of me. That wasn't fair to him or to me. It's like saying I don't trust him to stick it out unless I'm a perfect human being.
Instead, I pushed and pushed until he had no choice but to run. I just pray now that we can fix our mistakes before it's too late.
Exhausted, I lay down on our bed and try to nap. Instead, memories of us flood my mind.
All the times we climbed back in bed in the mornings to sip coffee and read.
All the nights we slept here curled around each other.
And the multitude of times we met here to taste, touch, and reconnect.
That's what I miss the most. Just being together, no matter the circumstances.
I get up, heading into the closet. I don't flip on the light, just feel for what I want. I know my way around, so I easily come to Edward's section of pullovers folded on a shelf. I pull them all to me, inhaling until I find what I want; one of his shirts still has his scent, lingering in the fibers and clinging, as I cling to the shirt now. Crying, trying not to sob, I pull the shirt over my head, stretching it over the baby we created together on our anniversary.
The sobs overtake me, and I slide to the floor in the darkened closet, resting my head on the side of the shelves. My shoulders shake as I release my grief, and the tears flow unchecked. I try to remind myself that it's cathartic to cry, and I attempt to practice my deep breathing as I sit there.
Eventually, the uncomfortable position causes my feet to fall asleep, and I roll over to my hands and knees, cautiously sitting up from there. I test myself, holding on to the shelf and putting my weight on my feet. They tingle, but they're okay. Sighing deeply, I make my way back to the bed, pulling Edward's pillow to my face and snuggling in. The baby moves, and it feels like she's doing somersaults.
"It's going to be fine, baby girl," I say as I rub the place where she's curled up. "I'll fix it, I promise. I'll convince Daddy to come home."
I fall asleep curled up the way I am.
No comments:
Post a Comment