I had left their address in the care of Axel’s foster mother, June. I knew she hated me, but I had hoped that if I couldn’t contact him, this would be the next best thing.
The fog from my parents’ death had finally left me when I found out I was almost two months pregnant. It had been almost a month since I’d lost them and not a day had gone by that I hadn’t felt the stabbing grief, but this pregnancy gave me something to focus on. Something to look forward to. It was Independence Day when I found out, ironic enough. I remember sitting in the bathroom of my grandparents’ house, thinking I had the next best thing to having Axel with me—a piece of him and our love. I was still scared; what seventeen-year-old wouldn’t be? I was basically alone and pregnant. I loved that baby from the second I saw the positive test strip. I just knew that any baby created with our love would be beautiful.
With a new lease on life, I started to move on and plan for our new future. I couldn’t wait to share the news with him. Every day I wrote to him, sending the letters off to his old foster home. Not knowing where he’d settled, I thought that was the next best thing. It worried me that I hadn’t heard from him, but I knew he would find me. He would always find me.
I was around ten weeks pregnant when I got a letter in the mail from June. She told me to stop sending my letters to her house, because Axel wasn’t coming back and he had told her to let me know to leave him alone. I was confused and heartbroken. My Axel wouldn’t have said that. He loved me; we had a future together.
I tried to write him at the base he’d originally arrived at, but my letter was returned, saying that there was no one there by that name. I didn’t know what to do. I knew June had told me that he wanted me to leave him alone, but I felt he deserved to at least know about the baby. So with no other options, I tried to contact June again. I wrote her a letter detailing the importance of having Axel contact me. The letter I got in return shocked me to the core.
I opened the letter and immediately the smell of smoke wafted around my head. Unfolding the single piece of paper, I read the words that stopped my world from spinning.
Two words.
He’s dead.
I couldn’t believe it. I just couldn’t. June had to be lying. I tried to write him at the base again, but my letter was returned, saying that they were sorry but no solider by that name was listed in active duty. When that letter came back, it was then that I believed June and I shattered.
It was two weeks later that I lost our baby.
That was the day I lost all touch of reality and sank into a deep depression filled black hole. I pushed everyone away when I lost that last piece of Ax I had left. I turned to alcohol and spent as much of my hours awake as possible drinking anything my underage hands could find. My grandparents were still dealing with the loss of my mom, and either they turned a blind eye to my behavior or they just didn’t notice. Either way, I was completely alone again, with no hope of Axel saving me this time.
Almost eight months later, Dee burst into my world and slowly brought me back to life. The rest is, as they say . . . history.
History I didn’t think I would have to deal with again.
I don’t know how much time I spend lying in bed, looking off at nothing, remembering those early days. By the time my stomach starts reminding me I need to eat, lunch has long since passed. I pull myself up, mentally dusting myself off, and start off for the shower. I don’t want to be weak again, and I am determined to be strong, to deal with this new fuck you from fate. It is time to dump the old Izzy and start finding the girl I used to be.
Fifteen minutes later, I’m making the trek down to the kitchen, hoping to grab a quick bite to eat alone before I dive into my work. I have a few new clients I need to email back, proposals to be approved, and some sites that need routine maintenance work done. It is all pretty basic, but it will keep my mind busy and off everything else swirling around me.
I have been working for a few hours when I hear the garage door open. “Damn,” I mutter. So much for having a nice peaceful afternoon. Someone coming in means that I won’t be able to completely ignore life around me, which is just smashing. With an overdramatic sigh, I save and close out of the programs I have been working on, shut my laptop, and straighten up all the paperwork I have scattered on the kitchen table.
Dee walks in, throwing me a sad smile right as I am pushing everything away. “Hey, you. How are you feeling?” Ah, I was expecting her to at least attempt throwing her cheer at me. Guess even she understands how big last night was. Hesitation and this cloud of timid do not suit my friend.
“Better than last night, or at least I’m getting there.” I attempt a smile, but it feels forced. I’m sure it looks even worse because she gives a small flinch before sitting down next to me.