Whatever It Takes (Bold As Love 3)

I push away from Jake and in a stony voice that scares me, I ask him to sleep on the couch tonight. It hurts so much to look at Jake. It shatters me to billions of pieces when he gives me that sly smile and I wonder if our baby would have smiled like that. I want to get rid of everything from my life, including Jake, that reminds me of what I have lost.

“Sweetness, please. Let me be here for you.”

I ignore him and roll over. How can he be here for me when I’m not even here for me? When I don’t want him here reminding me every second of every day that we could be getting ready to bring a son or daughter into this world?

When I resist turning over for Jake, he gets up and walks over to my side of the bed. Jake lifts the covers and climbs under them. Pulling me into his arms, all of my energy leaves me.

“I’m sorry,” I mutter into his chest. “Just go.”

I don’t know what to do. How can I get through this when I'm seesawing on emotions every second?

“Trust me,” his deep voice vibrates through me.

“I do.”

“No, you don’t. Not enough to share with me what you are feeling. When I think about you and how much you are struggling with this I feel terrible.”

“I just want to go to sleep. Can you please sleep on the couch tonight?”

Silently Jake leaves with his pillow tucked under his arm. I fall into a peaceful sleep with the promise that the heartache will stay locked up. The feeling that Jake and I are slowly coming to an end doesn’t keep me awake. My last thoughts are two questions: If something good is sitting right in front of you, why would you let it slip through your fingers? What sense does it make for me to give up something so good so easily?

Somehow, I manage to get ready for work and leave the apartment without waking Jake. I feel conflicted. and I don’t know what to do. Thoughts of working all day fill my body with relief. Maybe I can go out with the girls later tonight and forget about everything for a while.

Deep inside in a dark, damp place, I can feel my heart cracking. Crackling as if little pieces are popping and disappearing forev

er. When a mom walks in with her baby, I have to go out back and try to recollect myself.

That hollow feeling grows ever more present. I clutch my stomach as I feel vomit working its way up my throat. I can taste it in my mouth, but it’s making no effort to push up and out. It hurts. It hurts so badly that I just want to die. Dying would feel so much better than this daily hell. If only I had the guts…

Gasping to catch my breath as tears stream down my cheeks is how Kyle finds me when he shows up for my lunch break.

“Emily, are you okay? What’s the matter?”

I squeeze my eyes shut and lean back against the brick wall of Coffee Beans. Warm hands tenderly fall on my shoulders.

“Emily?”

There’s no way I can speak. It feels as if sand has clogged my throat.

Kyle is trying to keep me from breaking apart more than I already am. Can’t he tell that I’m like an egg? A hard-boiled egg that was placed in trusting hands only to be squeezed too hard and cracked. Being held together by only a thin interior lining. A lining that is starting to tear apart.

“Shh. It’s okay Em. It’s going to be alright.”

“No it’s not,” I sob into his chest. “It’s been four months and it just keeps getting harder.”

In a voice that I’ve never heard before , Kyle asks, “Should I call Jake?”

I don’t answer him because I am so distracted by the sound of his voice. that It is as sweet as sugar and as smooth as melted chocolate. I snap out of the trance when I hear my love’s gruff voice a few feet away.

“Sweetness?”

Gulping, I look at Jake as Kyle’s arms drop to dangle by his sides. Tears fall faster as I see Jake taking in my rumpled clothes, red, puffy eyes, and wet face. Why does he have to look at me like that? I just want someone to…to let me cry. Let me scream and hurt. Let me throw punches at the world like it has thrown to at me.

Jake hesitantly walks over to me. I feel myself crumbling.

I sag against the wall and slowly lower myself onto the ground. There it is. The sound of a glass being thrown against a wall and shattering, all in slow motion. My heart breaks.

I’m broken.