Final Score: Part One (Game On 5)

That creepy clinical smell all hospitals have threatened to choke me as Freya and I wandered down the corridors to find Bree’s room. Neither of us spoke, we just gave each other a look of understanding, and when we saw Jude sitting on a chair outside what I assumed was Bree’s room, Freya and I drew in a collective breath.

Jude looked up at the sound of our footsteps, his eyes red-rimmed. That was all it took for Freya to break down, and I had to swallow back my own tears as she hugged him and he sobbed into her shoulder.

“I’m so sorry, Jude,” Freya said, holding him tightly.

“I don’t know what to do, Freya,” Jude said, holding her back just as hard. “She won’t see me. She doesn’t want me here.”

My heart fractured in my chest at the sound of his pain. I wasn’t sure why Bree wouldn’t have wanted him there, but I did know that the echo of his cries made me ache and I wished I could take this away for him, for both of them. I stepped towards them and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“She will want you here,” I promised him. “Just give her some time.”

He let go of Freya and turned to me. “How much time? I can’t do this on my own.”

“You’re not on your own. Until Bree is ready, talk to us, talk to Richard, talk to Bryce. Just hang in there. You know her better than anyone. You know she’s going to need to process before she faces what’s happened. We’re all here for both of you.”

Jude nodded and brushed away his tears with the back of his hand. “I know. I just feel so useless.”

“You’re not useless,” Freya said. “You’re here, and even if she’s not ready to talk to you yet, she knows that. And that will mean everything to her.”

“I guess.” He straightened his shoulders and sighed. “Go see her. Maybe she’ll open up to you guys.”

Freya and I exchanged a look of apprehension, and then took the few steps towards Bree’s room. When we entered, we found Bree lying on her back in bed, staring up at the ceiling, her hair fanned out on the pillow like a halo. Again, Freya and I looked at each other, unsure what to say, or if we should say anything and just leave her be.

But she’d asked for us. Jude told Bryce she’d asked for us.

Tentatively, we walked towards the bed. Bree didn’t move but I knew she knew we were there because as we got closer, her eyes filled with tears. She blinked as they dripped down her cheeks and onto her pillow.

“Do you know that ten to twenty percent of pregnancies end in a miscarriage?” Bree’s voice didn’t sound right. Her usual singsong tone was now flat and lifeless. “I read that once. Before I got pregnant. Seems like such a small number. I remember thinking that that meant eighty to ninety percent of pregnancies are successful. But now? Now ten to twenty percent seems like a lot. With all the people there are in the world, that is a lot of miscarriages.”

I shifted my eyes to Freya, who had tears in her eyes at the sight and sound of our friend so dejected. So lacking in sparkle.

“It’s all okay,” Bree went on, still not moving her gaze from the ceiling. “I’ll be okay. Maybe I… maybe it just wasn’t the right time for me to be a mom.”

She squeezed her eyes closed as her tears fell faster and Freya and I hurried forwards and sat on her bed beside her. I grabbed her hand and she gripped it tightly.

“You will be okay,” Freya said, brushing a strand of hair from Bree’s cheek. “But right now, it’s okay if you’re not.”

Bree shook her head, her eyes still closed. “I can’t do anything right, can I? I’m just a stupid airhead who can’t even carry a baby inside me without losing it.”

“Babe, no,” I said, as more cracks formed in my heart. “This isn’t your fault. You’re not stupid and you didn’t do anything wrong.”

She’d come a long way in the past year, but just like me, just like everyone, when something came along to shake the security she thought she had, every insecurity that had ever existed came rushing back. For her, it was the constant feeling people thought she was dumb. That she would never amount to anything. That she’d only have what other people had given her. Knowing she felt this way again after working so damn hard to prove everyone wrong made me want to wrap her up in my arms and hold her until she remembered how much she was worth.

But she refused to move. She stayed in the same position. Unwilling to sit up or open her eyes to look at us.

“Does Jude hate me?” she asked, weakly.

“Hate you?” Freya said. “Honey, he’s outside this room freaking out because you don’t want to see him.”

“I can’t see him!” Bree snapped. “All we talked about for the last few months was us starting a family, and now I’ve taken that from him. How can I expect him to forgive me?”

“There’s nothing to forgive. He doesn’t blame you, and you shouldn’t blame yourself either.”

“Freya’s right,” I added. “This awful thing has happened, but please don’t think you’re responsible in any way.”

“Everything happens for a reason, right?”

“I don’t believe that. Sometimes crappy things happen for no reason at all.” Like miscarriages, and freak storms that kill the people you love and exes turning up out of the blue to throw your life in to disarray. “What possible reason could there be for this?”