Bait(80)

I know he’s misunderstanding me. I know he thinks I’m looking for reassurances.

I know he thinks he’s helping me when he rolls me to face him and presses his heart to mine.

“I’m sure,” he says.

My cheek is on his shoulder. I’m glad he can’t see my tears.

“And what if it never happens?”

He sighs. “These are supposed to be your secrets, Abigail, not mine.”

I don’t understand. He moves so quickly I have to swat the tears from my cheek.

“A miscarriage is awful,” he says. “Believe me, I know. Serena, my sister, she had several when she was younger. They broke her apart.” He digs his wallet from his jeans. My heart is in my throat as he opens it up. “But you can try again. We’ll try again, if that’s what you want. Maybe not now, but soon. We’re gonna be good together, you and me. I think our pieces fit pretty well together, all things considered.”

I stare dumbfounded as this horror unfolds.

“I’d love to have a baby,” he says, and he’s smiling. “Mariana didn’t want one. I had to beg her to keep Cameron. I think that was what ended us ultimately.”

He pulls out a picture. My stomach turns over itself as I see the little boy smiling at the camera.

“This is my boy,” he says, “he’s a real champ.”

My voice is a ghost. “You have a son?”

“He’s nearly four,” he continues. “He’ll love having a little brother or sister someday.”

“Stephen is having a baby with his estranged wife,” I say on autopilot. I’ve never spoken it aloud before, never allowed myself to think about it. “That’s why I ran. Because I couldn’t stand it. Because being around children makes me…” I stop.

Makes me feel empty.

Broken.

Makes me feel like my life is nothing.

That I’m not a woman.

That I’ll never know the love of a mother.

That my body killed my baby and nearly killed me too.

Leo’s eyes are so kind as mine spill tears. I wipe them away but my lip is trembling.

His hand is firm on my knee, his voice so strong.

“Hey,” he says. “Abigail, listen to me. It’s not over for you. We’ll try again. You’re gonna love Cam, he’s got his issues, I mean, the kid’s been through a lot, way more than any kid should ever go through. He was there that night, asleep in the back of my truck. Jake called and told me to get the hell up there and Serena wasn’t with us at the time. I put him in his car seat and took him with me.” He pauses. “And he saw the flames. He heard the sirens.”

“My God,” I cry, but he shakes his head.

“Cam’s had his issues, but he’s okay. Me and Serena, we do everything we can to make sure he’s okay. He’s elective mute, but he’s getting better. Don’t let that put you off him. He’s a great kid. Really great. He just started speaking again, just a few days ago. It’s early days, but he’ll get there. He’ll be a regular kid by the time he starts school, I just know it.”

The picture is still between us. I stare at his son’s big brown eyes as my heart breaks.

“He’s beautiful,” I say.

“He is. And ours will be too.”

But it won’t be.

“You don’t understand,” I say, and the desperation in my tone finally cuts through. He stops. Listens.

I guess he finally gets it.

I’m sobbing and I can’t stop even as I say it.

“There were complications, at the hospital. The operation that saved my life went wrong. It left scars.”

I close my eyes, just to find the strength to say it aloud.

“I can’t have children, Leo, and I can’t… I can’t be around other people’s children either.”





Thirty-Four





The world breaks everyone, and afterward, some are strong at the broken places.

Ernest Hemingway



Phoenix



Oh fuck, how I’ve said the wrong fucking thing.

I feel like a fucking idiot as my black swan sobs in front of me. She crumples in my arms as I hold her tight.

I tell her it’s okay, that she can take her time with Cameron. No pressure. No worries.

I tell her she doesn’t need to worry about having kids now, that we’ll sort it out, that there are ways. Options. So many things to consider.

I tell her everything I can think of to walk us both back from this shitty abyss, but I don’t think I reach her.

“Fuck, Leo,” she says. “Look at you, looking after me. Like you haven’t been through more than enough of your own shit.”

“We get stronger at the broken places,” I tell her. “I did and you will too. Everything was in ashes when Mariana died, the business, Jake, Cameron. I knew I had to pick myself back up and keep on moving. We only lost one of the trucks in the fire, the one by the loading bay. The rest were intact. We had no insurance pay-out and our customers lost a fortune in the blaze, but I took those trucks and I set up again. I re-mortgaged the house and worked my ass off, even though it hurt, and slowly. Slowly.”