No Tomorrow

“There was a baby?” His dark blue eyes pool with tears and it’s like staring into two oceans of pure desolation.

I swallow hard over the suffocating lump in my throat. “I was twelve weeks pregnant. I kept waiting for you to come home to tell you. So I could tell you in person. I was so excited to tell you, Blue. I just wanted it to be special and not over the phone. I’m so sorry.”

“Baby, don’t be sorry.” He pulls me into his arms and hugs me so hard I lose my breath. “This is all my fault. I fucked up again.”

I bury my face into his chest. “No. It’s not your fault. The baby stopped growing weeks ago. Something must have just been…wrong.”

He shakes his head violently. “I should’ve been here for you and the baby. You were upset when I got stuck in London longer. I should’ve just fucking left. Maybe this wouldn’t have happened.”

“Please…” I whisper. “Don’t say that. Please. Just hug me.”

We hold onto each other and cry for our little unborn baby. My heart aches so much I’m afraid it may never stop hurting, and I can’t even imagine what he’s feeling.

This wasn’t supposed to happen this way.

“Are you okay?” His voice is raspy with pain. “Are you in pain? Tell me what I can do for you. Please. I don’t want to lose you, too.”

“I just need you to hug me, that’s all. I promise you I’m okay and you’re not going to lose me. Ever.”

He takes a deep breath and his entire body shudders when he exhales.

“Does Lyric know?”

“No. I don’t think we should tell her.”

“Will there be a funeral? To say goodbye?”

Oh, my sweet Blue…

“No,” I say softly, too brokenhearted to say any more.

“So that’s it? The baby’s just… gone?”

“I’m sorry.”

I can actually feel the sadness engulf him like a black wave. His body goes entirely still. His breathing slows and quiets to a point of almost non-existent.

I’m terrified of what this could do to him, and to us. What happens when both people fall apart? Who picks up the pieces and holds us together?

He says nothing else, and neither do I. Our desperate hold on each other speaks volumes.

I carefully untangle myself from Blue’s arms and climb out of bed. He’s fallen into a deep sleep, exhausted from traveling and emotional overload.

Archie trails me to the kitchen, reminding me to fill his dishes which are inadequately filled. I make myself a cup of tea and call Lyric. She sounds happy—telling me about the movie Ditra and Billy took her to see and how she’s been beating Billy at a video game. I decide I’ll tell her tomorrow that her father is here. If she knows he’s here now, she’ll want to run home and I feel like we need a night alone together.

With Mickey following me closely, I take the phone out on the back porch and call Reece.

“Hey,” he says. “I’ve been thinking about you two. Are you okay?”

“I think so. We’re both upset. He’s asleep right now, he’s exhausted.”

“How did he take it?”

“He’s devastated. He’s trying to blame himself. I told him it’s not his fault. To be honest I feel like it’s my fault. I’ve been stressed and upset…”

“Piper, stop. It’s not your fault. Or his. It’s just a horrible thing that happens in life.”

I sigh and run my hand over my stomach. The pain is still lingering—physically and emotionally.

“You’re going to have to keep an eye on him,” Reece warns.

“I always do.”

“More than usual. If he can’t handle this, he could start using again to escape. So watch for him being in the bathroom too long, running the shower, or taking off randomly, look for track marks, sniffling, changes in his eating and sleeping, mood swings. If he’s acting too calm, angry, or too happy. You hafta watch for all this shit. If you think something’s up, call me, okay?”

Holy crap. All of that behavior could also just be normal. How am I supposed to know if something is a red flag?

“Okay,” I agree, feeling overwhelmed.

“Blue’s the kind of guy that will climb to the top of a fuckin’ mountain to try to reach that baby’s soul, Piper. I know him. And I know this is even harder for you. It’s not fair you have to watch him like a hawk when you’re grieving, but it is what it is.”

“I’ll be okay,” I assure him with confidence I’m not actually feeling. “We both will.”

“The rest of us are leaving here tomorrow. We’re gonna take a break for two weeks and then we’ll meet up in Seattle. I’ll call Blue in a few days to see how he’s doing. Are you okay? And Lyric?”

I pet Mickey’s head, finding comfort in his soft fur and calm demeanor. This dog hardly ever leaves my side. He’s a little ball of love and devotion, just like Acorn.