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Her eyes rested on the door, a barrier between her and what once could have been. Her lids closed as fear wrestled with bravery. Each time Da
“Jules, please, honey, let’s not do this today,” his voice wobbled.
She inhaled and opened the door. “Da
In the middle of the pale pink room was a bright, white wooden rocking chair with the word Princess painted across the headrest. They had ordered it on Labor Day weekend. It was supposed to come with the rest of the furniture. Obviously it was too early…or too late.
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” Da
Guilt, more guilt, huge vats of guilt piled on Julie’s shoulders as she held her empty tummy and cried. “I’m a horrible person, Da
“Jul, stop. None of this is your fault, I—”
“No, you don’t understand. I’ve been so worried. I think…I think I was even a little upset with you.”
“With me?” He titled his head. “Why? ‘Cause I lost my shit at the hospital? Jules, honestly, I thought I handled that well, considering. I ever find the motherfuckers who did that to you, they’ll wish I killed them.”
Julie let out a small snort, then gripped her stomach—ahh, pain, there it was. Da
“No, it had nothing to do with you losing your shit.” She took a shallow breath, because any deeper ached her stomach, then slowly released the air. “I know that you hate when I’m upset. You like control, and this”—she touched her soft belly before motioning to the pink room—“is killing me and it’s way beyond your control.” Da
He squinted. “Gotten rid of the room?”
“Yeah, I was convinced that I’d come home and all of this would be gone—the room painted white, the clothes packed up—and it would be one more thing I didn’t say good-bye to.”
The rhythm of Da
As the silence stretched on, Julie’s heart ached for the pain she’d just caused her man. “Da
“Your turn is over for a few minutes, honey.”
Shifting them so his body no longer supported hers, he sent a coldness through her that she felt clear to the marrow of her bones. But the distance lasted mere seconds before he sat facing her with his jean-clad legs encircling her and locked at the ankles. His hands held hers.
“I ever scare you? Make you think you don’t have a say in our life or our relationship? Other than when I was with the fire company?” The questions came out slowly, as if they were hard to ask but he wanted only the truth.
So she gave him only that. “No, never. You have only ever made me feel secure, loved, and free. It’s just, I know that you hate to see me sad, and when I cry…please, I know that tears you up.”
“Yeah, honey, it does. Fucking kills me, because your happiness is important to me. No, that ain’t right—it’s everything to me. Always has been, always will be.”
“Da
“Control? Yeah, Jules, I love control, because it helps me navigate through life, but guess what? Life is beyond control. You know it; hell, I know it. The only real control I ever have is in the bedroom, and even then…come on”—he tilted his head, his hazel eyes softened pools of love—“it’s based on your willingness.”
“Da
“No, I’m not done just yet. This room”—he pulled a hand free and gestured to the open space—“belonged to our daughter. Our daughter, Jules. We need to mourn the loss, honey, together. Seeing you cry tears me up inside; knowing you’re hiding it destroys me. We’ll get through this, Julie. Believe in us.”
Tears filled her eyes and stung her nose, but words were stuck behind the lump in her throat.
“I’m done now, honey.” Da
“I’m sorry,” Julie whispered, and the dam broke.
“No apologies needed, sweetness.” Da
Chapter Fourteen
My Cousin Vi
THE FIRST FEW weeks after Julie’s accident were painful, both physically and emotionally. She felt as if comfort would forever be an arm’s length away, a thing of the past and a foolish fantasy of what the future could have held. While awake, her body hurt and her muscles burned from healing, and while sleeping, nightmares robbed her of peace. Two faces—twisted and drunk on liquor and lust—mocked her and beat her, day after day, night after night. She dreamed of pain, loss, and even a few times of her baby girl waving good-bye, not such a baby at all. The more Julie dreamed, the worse the dreams got, until her dreams were nothing like the events that had taken place that rainy night, but more like every horror movie she’d ever refused to watch, ironically enough, because she feared nightmares. Julie would wake up in the dark room, pain searing her gut, sweat dripping down her spine, and a scream caught in her throat.
“I’m here, honey, you’re safe,” Da
And while she knew that she was, in fact, safe, she was forever tense, short-tempered, and tired.
###
“I CAN’T BELIEVE you asked Dr. Burke about therapy,” she fumed once Da
He sighed, clearly trying his best to quell the urge to argue with her, an urge he’d mastered over the six weeks since her surgery. “I have discussed it with you. You haven’t slept more than a few hours a night since the accident, you barely eat, you spend hours in the nursery, and the worst part…you do it all alone.” His chest rose and fell in rapid succession. “What happened to believing in me?”
She shrugged.
“Dammit, Julie.” Da
A sliver of guilt broke through her shell as she looked at her husband for the first time in weeks. He was hurting too. He’d done his best to support her, love her, and give her space while he worked full time, managed the house, and held her through the night as she shivered from fear. He couldn’t possibly understand the pain and torment she felt from losing their baby, but he was doing the best he could.
“Okay,” she relented. “I don’t think I need any help, but I’ll call the therapist Doctor Burke suggested if it will make you happy.”