Goddesses Don't Get Sick (17 page)

I didn’t mean for you to get hurt my love
, she thought unhappily,
I won’t burden you anymore
.

Tuyen watched her go and puzzled once more over the complicated mess of emotions he could feel, before he sighed softly and turned back in the direction of the bridge.

Maybe it is better, this way
, he thought. Y
ou deserve a happy marriage, my Goddess. I won’t take that from you.

FORTY-THREE.

SLOWLY, EXCRUCIATINGLY, THE MONTHS PASSED.

Well into her seventh month now, Angela lay propped up in bed, feeling more like an invalid than ever. Her belly was so swollen that she could hardly get up and move without at least some help, using a cane to haul her body out of bed when Jason wasn’t home.

Jason had tried to use this fact as more reason to let Vera come and stay with them, but Angela continued to refuse. Eventually, she agreed that Vera could come and help out for a few weeks
after
the baby was born, but not until then. Jason had protested, but eventually agreed. He’d never been very good at saying no to his wife.

As the due date grew closer, Jason had taken to looking at his wife with a worried excitement, knowing that it would not be much longer now, but wondering how much more of this she could take. Angela no longer seemed like the woman he had married, and he went through most of his days experiencing a nervous fear that this child was causing more harm than its birth could ever redeem.

What’s happening to us?
Jason fretted.
We were so happy before. Everything was so perfect…

He’d tried expressing these fears once to a close work friend—a recent father himself—and had been told that it always seemed like that in the final weeks.

“Hell, I was certain my Sally was going to up and leave me any minute, by the end,” Michael had chuckled to himself, before turning his attention back to his friend.

“Don’t you worry!” he’d grinned, clapping Jason on the back. “As soon as she’s dropped the little tyke, everything will work out!”

Jason hoped so, with every fiber of his being, continuing to worry as he went about his work, his mind fixated on his wife at home.

Alone.

The day was pleasantly warm, for the most part. Which translated to Angela as stifling hot. It didn’t help that the only clothing she could fit into without a large amount of help and effort was a long nightgown, when what the weather really called for was short sleeves or swimwear.

I miss you, skinny past me
, Angela sighed wistfully to herself as she idly flipped through the channels on the TV. She felt wretched, still suffering from morning sickness even now, and every suggestion from Doctor Harris had failed to help. She was constantly exhausted even though she did nothing with her days, and the aching in her body was perpetual.

Feeling a familiar cramp rising up in her stomach, Angela tensed herself against the false contraction before it came. She’d been experiencing them for about two weeks now, and was beginning to grow very weary of them, daydreaming to herself about c-sections and epidurals for when the time came.

Stop teasing me, kid, and just come on out
, Angela thought as she gritted her teeth in anticipation. But something different happened this time. Instead of discomfort, what Angela felt was a true and ugly pain. As if she was being torn apart from the inside.

What the…?

Gasping for breath, she almost blacked out before she felt it beginning to ebb.

Please, let that be it. Don’t let something be wrong. Not now, not when I’m nearly there…

Angela continued to pray it was over, even as she felt another one hit her, the new pain cutting through her body like a jagged knife. The first hints of fear began to creep into Angela’s heart as she lay sweating on the bed. This was nothing like the doctor had described, not even with all the problems Angela had been suffering. It left her with only one conclusion to draw.

Something’s wrong…

Angela looked at the phone on the nightstand, and for a second wondered who to call. Jason’s parents were out of town—for once a real excuse not to involve them—but Jason’s work was at least half an hour’s drive away. The price for a house in the suburbs.

Think about this, Ange,
she told herself.
Don’t have the vapors
.

Taking a moment, she tried to evaluate the situation. Pain aside, she still felt as okay as she ever had for the past few weeks. The last thing she wanted was to call an ambulance, and have it turn out to be a false alarm, or something trivial. She did feel nauseous; maybe it was just morning sickness, protesting the lack of food in her stomach?

Hopefully not serious, but should get it looked at…

Making up her mind, Angela picked up the phone and began to dial her husband’s cell phone.

“Hello?” Jason picked up on the second ring, sounding almost desperate to hear from his wife. “Ange? You okay?”

How did he know it was— oh. Caller ID,
Angela thought to herself in a daze, before she tried to focus her thoughts.

“I’m okay, Jase. I just…something new is going on, and I…”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” Jason interrupted. “You need me to call anyone?”

“No, just…get here.” Angela managed, both touched and slightly disturbed at her husband’s eager-to-please manner about her.
Still like a puppy.

Hanging up the phone, she swung her feet to the edge of the bed, and was about to haul her heavy form upright when another cramp came, yanking a whimper out of Angela’s throat as she doubled over in pain. Sliding off the bed and onto her knees, she waited for it to subside before crawling laboriously to the bathroom. Collapsing by the toilet bowel, Angela kept enough coherency to tug her hair out of the way before her stomach clenched, violently forcing what little food that was in there back out.

How do bulimics manage this?
She wondered, half-deliriously, as her body continued to retch.

Eventually the heaving stopped, leaving Angela trembling as she leaned against the cool porcelain, eyes closed in an effort to stave off the black dots that danced in her vision. After a few moments, she lifted her head and reached up to flush the toilet, when she saw it.

Blood
.

Blood, everywhere in her vision, staining the bowl a sickly red.

Something
is
wrong
, she thought feverishly, mind racing as she stared at the blood.
Oh no, what’s wrong?
Angela felt herself beginning to panic, trying to think of what was wrong, what to do, who to call…

(
Tuyen!
)

Yes! Tuyen! Oh Angel, where are you?
Angela wasn’t even aware that she’d begun to weep softly, the mixture of the fear and pain overwhelming her.

There was a faint rustle, and then the Angel was behind, her in the bedroom, concern written on his face. He stepped into the bathroom, saw the blood, and immediately rushed to Angela’s side with a soft cry.

“Goddess?” He asked, kneeling down beside her, “What’s wrong? Is it the baby?”

Angela whimpered softly and nodded, before she tried to get up. Pulling one of her arms over his shoulders, Tuyen gently lifted her to her feet and began to guide her back to the bed.

“Is Jason coming to help you?” The Angel asked. As Angela nodded again, Tuyen sighed to himself. “I really hope he realizes what he’s putting you through, here,” he murmured, lifting her back onto the bed.

(
Tell him the truth. He needs to know
)

There was that voice, urging her on again. But this time, Angela found herself agreeing with it.

“Tuyen, the baby…” She began, before another wave hit her. They were coming faster, now, the agony never quite leaving Angela’s memory before the next one hit. “…y-yours,” she managed to choke out, trembling violently.

Tuyen blinked and shook his head, looking as if he’d been struck. “I…What?”

“It’s yours.” Angela relaxed as much as she could when the pain began to subside again, panting as she lay on the bed.

“…
What?
” Tuyen repeated, stunned. Angela gave him a weak, frightened smile.

“You’re the father. That night we were together…it has to be you, Tuyen. I was on the pill, and I’m sure I didn’t miss a day, so it can’t be Jason’s. I just…didn’t think an Angel would be any different from…” She trailed off, only able to shake her head tiredly and rest it back on the pillow, unaware that she was still trembling.

Is it possible?!
Tuyen thought in shock, gently placing his hand on Angela’s stomach. His eyes widened at what he sensed, and he snatched his hand away as if stung. Trembling, he got up and backed away slowly from the bed, fist pressed to his mouth as he tried to think.

No, this can’t be! How is this
possible
?!

“Why didn’t you tell me?” His eyes had grown wide in fear, while his mind raced. No mortal in history had given birth to an Angel’s child. He didn’t even know if it could be done. He’d heard of a few—very few—previous situations like his own, but in each and every case, the Angel had been forced to fall and the pregnancy terminated. Why should this one be different? To what purpose?

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He repeated desperately.

“I didn’t want them to punish you again,” Angela began to breathe harshly and twitch as another cramp hit her.
Too quickly
, she thought dazedly.
This is all happening too quickly…

Unaware that he had begun to weep, Tuyen went back to his Goddess’ side and fell on his knees by the bed.

“Angela, this…this could
kill
you. You should have told me! I could have done…”
Done what?
“…something.” He clung to one of her hands, wings arching protectively over the bed without him even being aware he’d unfolded them.

Angela tried to smile, and reached over with her free hand to brush a stray lock of hair from his eyes. Tuyen looked at her with naked worry, his grip on her hand desperate.

“It…it’s okay if it does, Tuyen. I love you. That’s all that matters,” Angela managed the smile this time, but couldn’t hide the fear behind it; abated since the Angel’s arrival, but still present.

Another cramp hit, this time drawing a desperate cry from Angela as the spasm of pain hit her body.

“Oh, ow!” She panted, clutching Tuyen’s hand so tightly that her nails cut into his palm. He keened softly and closed his eyes, silently imploring to his maker to save her, while he desperately searched his mind for a way to help.

Please, Lord, don’t take her away from me. I’m so sorry, I’ll never see her again I swear it. Just let her live….

Like something from a dream, Tuyen was able to sense the child, to see it in his mind’s eye. To see wings that weren’t visible to the naked eye. To feel them flexing, like a young bird stretching its limbs…

The blood beginning to pool around Angela’s legs…

“No!” He cried out, eyes snapping open in panic, thoughts racing

(
Still white the sheets are still white not yet
)

as he clutched at Angela.

“Goddess, you have to get to a doctor,” he pleaded. Angela looked at him blankly, her eyes glazing over from the pain.

“Jason’s on his way home—” She began, but stopped as the Angel shook his head desperately.

“No, you need a doctor; you need to get the child out of you now!”

Angela looked at his eyes then. And, seeing the panic in them, felt her own fear return in full force.

“What’s wrong with it?” She asked, trying to sit up, before throwing her head back and screaming as pain lanced through her.

Shaking his head, tears of fear and shared pain flowing down his face, Tuyen wrapped his arms around Angela and tried to catch her unfocused eyes.

“Your body can’t support this baby, Angela, you need a doctor or it’s going to kill you, and I— I can’t do anything to stop it,” he rested his head on her shoulder and sobbed, terrified for her soul as his mind kept repeating the same question, over and over:
Why?

Angela let out a strangled choke; a sound that seemed beyond a vocalization of pain, at the same time that Tuyen felt the being inside her flex and stretch. Lifting his head, he watched in mounting horror as thick, dark blood began to flow from between Angela’s legs.

“No,” he begged quietly. “Please, don’t do this,” the Angel turned his tear stained face to the ceiling, looking beyond it. “
Don’t do this!
” He screamed, Angela’s own cries joining his as another spasm hit.

“I love you, Tuyen,” she whispered, before her back arched in a contraction, spilling more blood onto the bed as her water broke.

“No, no, Angela!” Tuyen pleaded as he felt her giving in, her body spasming in its efforts to remove the child from the dying womb. Everything was happening too quickly, beyond any realm of control. Less than ten minutes had passed since the Angel had arrived, and now the woman he loved was in her death throes.

“I love you, Goddess,” he held her close and cried into her hair. “Please, don’t leave me.”

Angela’s body gave a final heave, expelling the tiny child onto the bloodied sheets, before it stopped moving entirely. Her grip on Tuyen’s hand weakened, leaving a series of small cuts in his palm that began to bleed slowly down his wrist.

Broken, Tuyen wept freely over her body, unaware that his wingtips were sitting in a puddle of blood that had ebbed onto the floor, staining them crimson.