Disastrous (Disastrous Series) (31 page)

I nervously paced in the small room as the phone rang. I was going to hang up on the third ring when Jeremy eagerly answered the phone. “Mia?” I could hear the fear in his voice.

“Yes.” I whispered.

Sighing in relief, “
Jesus
, Mia, I’ve been freaking out! Where are you? Come home.” he said.

Stopping, I sank into the futon. “Jeremy, I’m fine … well not really, but I’ll be fine. I can’t come home yet. I’m not ready to face him.”

He was silent over the phone for a second. “Yeah, he’s here you know, but asleep. He won’t leave. He sleeps by the door, hoping you’ll walk in soon.” Letting out a deep breath, he continued. “Are you sure you okay? Do you need me to bring you anything? Some clothes? Any of your things?”

“No, um, I’m afraid he’ll somehow follow you. I’ll buy whatever I need. I’m not sure how long it will be before I’m home, Jeremy … but I’ll keep you updated. Just let him know that you spoke with me, and that I’m okay. Maybe that will keep him out of your hair.”

He lowered his tone to almost at a whisper. “He’s waking up now. Okay, I’ll let him know. Love you, be safe.”

Swallowing back tears, I whispered, “I love you too, Jeremy.” He ended the call.

****

After a quiet dinner with my mother, I hibernated back into the bedroom. I felt extremely bad. I knew she was trying, but it was so hard for me to try back. I couldn’t laugh at her jokes or engage in conversation. I was too distracted. My mind would wander off when she began to talk. I thought of Jeremy and how he was handling Marcus. I also wondered if Marcus was drunk at this very moment.

Before me, he didn’t know how to handle his emotions, so he poured it into drinking. Then when he met me, he poured it into sex. Now that he doesn’t have me, did he go back to drinking, or was he still pouring it into sex but with others? That thought upset my stomach.

I sat on the bed, my back leaning against the wall, my knees up against my chest. I knew I shouldn’t do it; I knew that I’d just be setting myself up for another night of full-blown tears, but I couldn’t help it. Placing the phone on top of the pillow, I laid my head next to it, and lowering the volume, I heard his voice through the speaker as I listened to his messages.

The first message was right after I left him. “Mia, please come back. We need to talk,
please
, don’t drive alone upset…please call me. I love you so much.” He choked on the last sentence.

“
Mia
, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I wish I could go back and change everything. I wish I could make it better. I know I fucked up … please call me back. I love you.”

“I know you don’t want to speak with me … I completely understand … but please let me know you’re okay. I can wait till you’re ready to speak to me. Just please send me a text. I have to know you’re safe. Please don’t shut me out. I love you so much, Mia. Please. I’m begging.”

The next few were similar with him apologizing and pouring out his love for me. Listening to his broken voice made my heart ache. The most recent message was not long ago. I left my phone in the room after speaking with Jeremy. Marcus called during dinner. He called after Jeremy told him that we spoke.

He spoke in a low tone. His words broke my heart as I heard the sadness in his voice. “I spoke to Jeremy … He said he’d talked to you. I’m
relieved
you’re safe. I thought maybe something might have happened to you …” He paused and continued in a raspy, out-of-order tone. “Mia, I know you
hate
me. I know there’s
nothing
I can do to change that. I just want you to know that
you
and our
peanut
mean everything in this world to me. Without you, I’m nothing. I will always be here for you, no matter what, and I know it’s best the two of you stay away from me …” I cried along with him on the last sentence. “Make sure to tell our baby that his father loves him every day of his life, just like I will always love you
every single day
.” The call ended.

Burying my face into the pillow, I sobbed in soft, painful screams.

I have to tell him.

After listening to that message for the hundredth time, I worked up the courage to send Marcus a text message over two weeks later. I told him that I needed to talk to him and to meet me at a coffee shop near the university.

A public place should prevent us from breaking down
hopefully
. A week ago my mother picked up my vehicle from the hospital parking lot. Still not having the courage to go home, I decided to stay with her until today. Packing the few things I had left, she sat on the bed and watched me load my small duffel bag. She looked sad that I’d be going back home.

“Sara, thank you again for all of this … you know you’re welcome to stop by my place anytime.” I wanted her to know that just because I was leaving didn’t mean it was the last she’d see of me.

“I know … hey my niece, well your cousin, will be moving here from Philly. She’ll be staying with me awhile until she can find a job and get herself situated. She’s close to your age. Maybe we can all go out for dinner, and you can show us around?”

I softly smiled. “Yeah, that sounds nice.” Not really. Don’t get me wrong. I was looking forward to slowly meeting my mother’s side of the family, but I didn’t want her to meet me while I was in this state of mind. I still needed time mentally before I could get back to being me. I wasn’t sure I’d ever be me again. Only time would tell. After placing the bag in the trunk of my car, I hugged and thanked her again.

When I pulled into a parking spot, my stomach fluttered with butterflies in anticipation. Then when I got there, I didn’t think I could do this. I’d wanted this in a public place because I was afraid of how I would react when I saw him in person. Now I was afraid that I’d collapse in front of everyone. He had a right to know, and he deserved to be told in person. Taking a long deep breath, I exited the car, and in a slow steady pace, I made my way to the café. Arriving a half hour early hoping to sit and wait for him, I stopped in my tracks when I saw him through the glass wall. He was already there.

Biting my lip, I studied him; he hadn’t noticed me. It had been over two weeks, and from this distance he seemed slimmer. His hair was a mess, though an adorable mess. He wore jeans and a navy blue fitted shirt. His hands were folded together on top of the small table…he stared down at them while his leg nervously bounced.

Running his hand through his hair, he began to mumble something then spread his hands as if speaking with someone sitting in front of him. No one was there. Shaking his head, he sank his face into his hands. Both legs were bouncing now.

At that moment, I was going to turn around and walk away, but after rubbing his face, he looked my way. His entire body froze when he laid eyes on me. His lips parted and eyebrows creased. I tried to swallow a few times, but my throat was too dry. He slowly brought his arms down to the table, and his eyes remained locked with mine. Looking down, I broke from his stare. Unhurriedly I made my way through the glass door and to him.

The entire few seconds it took me to finally reach him I thought of how I should greet him. Do I kiss him or hug him? Either way it would feel awkward, or was I more afraid that once I hugged him, I wouldn’t let go?

I took the easy way out and just slid in the seat across from him. Not bringing my eyes to his, I waited as we sat in silence. The leg bouncing had stopped, and I watched as his hands and fingers spread and pressed down on the table. His fingernails turned white with the pressure. It was like he was keeping them from reaching out. He cleared his throat before speaking, and even though the familiar sound of his low deep voice pulled me in, I kept my eyes down. “Hi,” was all he said. It was short, yet there was so much more behind it.

It worked, that simple word forced my eyes up and to meet his again. Both of our chests moved in a matching rhythmic speed. I shied my eyes away, looking out into the parking lot away from him. I couldn’t look into those eyes and break his heart with the news I had. I began to ache, knowing that I would have to relive the emotional heart-wrenching pain all over again. Lifting my hands from my lap, I laid them on the table and looked down at them. We were a mere inch away. His fingers flexed, I stilled, and with my reaction, he brought his hands under the table, rubbing them along his thighs.

“Would you like something to drink?” His voice was low yet steady; I knew it was an attempt to get me talking. I nodded. “Tea?” he asked. When I nodded again, he stood and walked over to the front counter to order our drinks.

Exhaling deeply, I stared at his back as he stood in line. I wanted to run up to him, throw my arms around his neck, and tell him I love him so much and that the past couple weeks had been nothing but miserable without him. Then I thought of all the lies, my brother, his still working for that
man,
and I couldn’t bring myself to do it. He looked over his shoulder, and a very small, crooked smile formed when he saw I was staring. Pressing his lips together, he glanced down and then focused back on the line.

Tearing away, I blankly stared out at the trees. I knew this was going to be hard to do. Even though I practiced over and over how and what I was going to say, each time I cried. In person, it would be even harder, and I knew my tears would take over, and it would be so difficult to concentrate on what I’d practiced.

Marcus returned, sliding into his chair. He placed the tea in front of me. Looking up at him, I gently smiled. “Thank you,” I said softly. He nodded while taking a sip of his coffee.

Closing his eyes, his eyebrows came together. He seemed to be thinking, and then before I could say anything, he placed the cup aside and brought his hand to mine. “Mia, I miss you so much.” He breathed out as if he were holding it in the entire time.

Searching my face, he remained still. His touch shot warm, familiar electricity through my veins. “I miss you too,” I admitted. I did; it wasn’t a lie. His eyes grew wide with hope, and I couldn’t lead him on. “
But
, that’s not why I’m here, Marcus.” His brows furrowed with confusion.

Attempting to swallow again, I bit my lip, trying to think of the best way to say this. There was no best way; no matter how I said it, it would destroy him. “Marcus, I asked you here because I thought you had a right to know in person.” Looking down at our joined hands, my eyes stung with tears.

He gently squeezed my hand. “The right to know what?”

I brought my eyes back to him, “A right to know that the night we’d gotten into the argument, that night I bled, a lot. I called Dr. Lee … and when I arrived at the hospital ...” I paused to hold back my sobs as the tears rudely escaped my eyes. Still keeping his hand locked to mine, he brought the other against my face, cupping my cheek. He repeatedly stroked his thumb along the moisture. I closed my eyes, allowing slow steady breaths to calm me before opening them. “Marcus, I lost
our
baby … I miscarried.” I cried.

“
What
?” He shook his head, not wanting to believe what I just said. He searched everywhere in our area, letting out deep breaths, taking in the words, the loss. Fixing his gaze down on our hands, panting, he cocked his head to the side, studying our hold. “It’s my
fault
,” he whispered.

Squeezing his hand tighter, I lowered my head, trying to fix his eyes with mine. He didn’t stare at me. “Marcus, it’s no one’s fault.”

His eyes finally met mine, “
Oh
yeah? Then how did it happen?”

Shaking my head, I slightly shrugged. “Dr. Lee said anything could’ve happened, lack of nutrition, stress,
anything
, Marcus.”

“You were always stressed because of
me
.” He pointed at his chest with his free hand. “You were always worried about
me
, scared every other night, afraid that something would happen to
me
. Then the whole Romeo and Lou situation and the documents you found … all because of
me
, Mia.”

“Marcus, I …” I couldn’t say anything to that. Yes, it was true I was always worried sick about him, but to blame the miscarriage on him was too much. I couldn’t allow him to think it. It wouldn’t be fair to him. “Marcus it is not your fault. Things like this happen all the time; it’s normal. I’ll be fine, and so will you.”

“You went through it on your own? You must’ve been scared, and I wasn’t there. I was …
ugh
.” He shook his head disgusted with himself.

The anger I felt towards him slowly drifted as I looked into his wounded eyes. Yes, my body was the one that physically went through the changes of carrying and losing our child, and yes it would take time for me to physically and mentally heal. But I knew he fell in love with our child the moment I told him I was pregnant. His love grew even more when he saw the peanut-shaped body on the ultrasound. This was just as hard for him as it was for me.

I wasn’t exactly sure what I was doing; all I knew was that we couldn’t stay in here any longer. I stood, his hand still with mine, and began to move towards the door. He followed behind me as we slowly walked out of the café and into the parking lot. Spotting his all-black, tinted Mercedes, I headed towards it. Once we were by his car, I leaned against the back-passenger door and pulled him into me. Wrapping my hands under his arms, I hugged him tightly. I wanted to comfort him. I wanted him to comfort me. With his arms firmly around the middle of my back, we did just that for a long time. We said nothing, did nothing—just soothed each other.

It was bizarre how out in the parking lot even while people walked by minding their business, this felt more private to me than in that secluded, tiny shop. Not bothering to see if anyone was staring at us because at this moment I truly didn’t care, I closed my eyes and sank my head into his chest. I took in his
oh-so-
familiar lingering scent, allowing myself to savor this moment, not sure how long it would last, but knowing that it would eventually have to end. He did as well when he lowered his head, burying it into the base of my neck.