Mine to Lose (21 page)

Lang comes outside to find us and sees me
in Ryan’s arms. She walks toward me muttering something that I can’t make out
but freezes, staring toward the parking lot. A chill runs down my spine, unsure
what’s unfolding in front of me.

“You okay?” I ask, walking to stand next
my sister to see what she’s looking at.

“Go inside,” she says in an eerie calm.
“Tell them to call the cops. He’s in the parking lot. I don’t think he saw me,
but if I walk back in, he’s sure to recognize me.”

“What? Where?” I ask looking around,
trying to see what she sees.

She nods her head and whispers, “Over
there. Now, hurry up, Em.” I see a large, disheveled man slumped against a car,
smoking a cigarette. He fits everything I imagined when Lang told me about him
the first time.
It’s Scott.

I back away from her and start to head
toward the doors as she instructed, but before I reach them, I stop and look in
his direction, catching his eye. He knows who I am, even though we’ve never met;
I can tell by his cocky demeanor and the way he smirks at me. He puts the
cigarette to his lips and takes a long drag; his eyes remain locked on me. When
he exhales he rolls his neck and resumes his stance, challenging me to move. I
don’t know how long I’ve looked at him, but all it takes is his feigned
innocent shrug that he follows up with a sneer to set me off. I start to move
toward him and take off running full speed at the disgusting excuse for a man
that seems too pleased with himself.

I can hear muffled yelling behind me, but
barely over the blood rushing in my ears, adrenaline my encouragement. He just
got away with destroying my mom and he thinks he’s untouchable. Scott’s eyes
grow wider with every step closer I get to him and when I get close enough, I
lunge at the asshole, knocking the cigarette from his hand while I scream and
kick anywhere my foot will land.

“You bastard! What the fuck is wrong with
you? How could you do this to her? I will kill you, you piece of shit!”

“Get off me you stupid bitch!” he yells,
grabbing me by the shoulders and holding me out so his knee makes direct
contact with my stomach. I fall to the ground clutching my abdomen in pain,
tears streaming down my face, but adrenaline prodding me to my feet. I roll to
my side and get to my knees when he plants three more kicks to my body while I
gasp for air.

I hear wailing and screaming, but I
realize these noises are coming from me and that freaks me out even more.
Somehow, I manage to get to my knees and I claw my way out of his reach, before
someone tackles him to the ground. Lang is by my side, helping me to my feet
and I see Ryan standing over Scott, using his face as punching bag. My sister
has her arms wrapped around me, guiding me back through the hospital door, as
police arrive and pull Ryan off of him.

What have I done? What about the baby?

Hospital staff meets my sister and help
get me to a gurney so they can wheel me away.

“Let’s get you to a room so we can have a
look,” an older man says gently, as they begin to move me. I don’t want Lang or
anyone else with me, so I’m glad that they made her stay back. Hopefully she’ll
go back to be with mom while I get checked out. No one knows yet about my baby,
and this isn’t the time or the place.

My baby.

The nurse comes over to me and helps me
remove my clothing and wraps me in a hospital gown. These simple movements
cause shooting pain throughout my body; I just want something to make it go
away.

The door opens and the doctor comes back
into the room, “I’m Doctor Norman. I know you’re in pain, but I need you to try
to relax, okay? Can you do that?”

I nod and wince when he touches my ribs.

“What’s your name?” he asks while he flashes
a light in my right eye, and then my left.

“Emogen,” I groan through gritted teeth.
My body starts to curl protectively and I’m doing everything I can to listen to
him. I have never known pain like this, “Please, will my baby be okay?”

He looks at me, concern evident on his
face. The nurse leaves the room in a rush, only to return, rolling a machine
in. She pulls out a device that looks like a pole or wand and places something
over it before handing it to the doctor.
He moves a stool next to the bed and
scoots closer to me.

“Emogen.” His voice is soothing, as
though talking to a child. “We need to try and take a look at the baby. How far
along are you?”

“I-” I start groaning in pain. “I just
found out the other day. Maybe six weeks? Seven?”

He holds up the wand thing for me to see.
“This is a transvaginal ultrasound so I can take a look at your baby. I’m going
to place this inside of you so we can make sure everything is okay.” The nurse
holds my hand while he inserts the wand inside of me and the action causes my
entire body to go rigid. “I know this is uncomfortable, but I need you to try
and relax.” He continues the examination, staring intently at the screen. The
room is so quiet, you can hear a pin drop, and I do everything I can to keep my
body relaxed while I am still in so much pain.

He moves the wand around and stares at
the screen, keeping still. He repeats the movement a few more times, making a
small noise under his breath, but keeping his eyes locked on the screen.
Slowly, he removes the device from inside of me and pulls the gown over my
knees. Doctor Norman stays seated next to me and before he can say anything, I
know.

“I lost the baby,” I whisper to myself as
tears spill down my face. The pain my body is feeling right now is nothing compared
to the pain my heart is feeling.

“I’m sorry, Emogen, but I couldn’t find a
heartbeat.”

“Why?” I ask. I need answers; I need a
reason why this happened.

“I wish I could tell you, but sometimes
these things happen. It could have been the attack or any number of things. I
know that doesn’t give you any consolation, but it’s all I have.”

I wish my heart would stop beating.

Until this moment, I didn’t realize how
much I already loved and wanted this baby, with or without Ryan.

Dr. Norman continues to check me, but all
I can think about is the baby I lost. If I had just done what Lang asked, this
wouldn’t have happened. Tears that haven’t stopped falling run down my face and
into my pillow as I lay down.

“You have some nasty bruises on your stomach
and back that will heal. You have two bruised ribs that I’m sure hurt, so I’m
going to give you a prescription to help you manage the pain.”

“Thank you,” I whisper. Too bad the pills
won’t heal the pain that I feel in my heart.

He looks at me waiting for me to give him
my attention. “I know you don’t want to hear this right now, but over the next
few days, you may experience some vaginal bleeding and cramping related to the
miscarriage.”

I can’t say anything in response because
the word miscarriage feels like a scab being ripped off again. I want to leave
this place. I want to go back in time to yesterday when the test showed
positive and be happy about it. I want to go back to before that asshole almost
killed my mom. I want to go back to an hour ago, when I decided to be stupid
and put my life and my baby’s in jeopardy. But I can’t. All I can do is try to
come to terms with the loss of my sweet little baby that I will never know.

“Would you like for me to get your
sister?” he asks, interrupting my thoughts.

“No,” I rush out before he can send the
nurse. “No one knew I was pregnant.”

“I don’t think you should be alone right
now,” Dr. Norman reminds me. “There are a couple of people waiting outside that
want to see you.”

“Can I have a few minutes alone, please?”

“Of course.” He places a sympathetic hand
to my forearm and squeezes as he stands up. “Take as much time as you need.
Just let the nurse know when you are ready for them to come in.”

I wait until they have left the room and
I roll to my side as my body convulses with sobs. I don't understand the loss
that I feel, because I just found out this little person even existed, but I
miss it already. The last piece of Ryan and me, the only part that remained
from the love we shared, is gone. My angel just died, the precious little
miracle that I didn’t know I loved is no longer here, and my world shatters a
little more.

I hear the door creak open and I wipe my
eyes, and any evidence of my loss before looking to see whom it is. When I
glance over my shoulder, Ryan is walking toward me with a concerned look on his
face.
How is it that he always knows when I need him most?
I try to hide
the tears, but figure he thinks I’m in pain, which I am, so I let them flow
waving him in closer. He sits behind me on the edge of my bed and places his
bruised and bloody hand to my arm. I reach my hand that is tucked under my head
to touch his knuckles, acknowledging his wounds.

“Doesn’t hurt,” he whispers, answering my
silent question.

He has no idea what’s going on, and I
can’t tell him, at least not right now. But I can mourn our loss
for the
both of us
, with him by my side, letting him take care of me. He doesn’t
ask if I’m okay, because he knows me; I’m far from it. He takes my tears for
worry over my mom.

“Mom?” I ask, suddenly alarmed that I
have pushed aside what’s happened to her.

“No change,” he says quietly. “I know
you’re worried, but you need to rest. What were you thinking going after him
like that, Em?” He’s not mad when he asks; I think he’s curious because it’s so
out of character for me.

I wince when I try to face him, my ribs
screaming in pain. I try to stifle the cry that wants to escape, a small moan
replacing it. “I wasn’t thinking,” I remind myself aloud. “He was standing
there so smug and all I could see is that he almost took her away.” The moment
the words escape I realize he succeeded. He might not have taken away my mom,
but he did manage to take away the one thing I didn’t know I wanted. I turn
away and give in to the pain, both physical and emotional.

Without another word, Ryan crawls onto
the bed with me and wraps his arm over me, cradling me as I let go. He runs his
hand over my arm trying to soothe my pain, whispering over and over, “Everything
will be okay.”

I’m not sure it will ever be.

* * *

Dr. Norman came in to check on me, and
asked Ryan to give us a few minutes. I was grateful that he remembered my
earlier plea. Once he was gone, the doctor gave me the prescription for the
pain, and said that I should check in with my local doctor when I get home.
Langley came to check on me after both had gone and helped me get dressed. She
confirmed what Ryan said; there was still no change with mom. She wanted me to
go home with her to get some rest, but I insisted on staying. I tell her that
someone should be here if mom wakes up. My sister had already been here for so
long and she looked like a mess. Mostly, I just wanted to be alone with mom and
talk to her.

I waited until everyone took off for the
night and settled into an uncomfortable hospital chair next to her bed. Reid
left his phone charger for me; so I plugged in my phone and powered it on to
see I had several missed calls from the girls, as well as text messages from
Trey.

11:56 p.m. - Did you make it in?

12:22 a.m. - Just checking on you

12:46 a.m. - Getting worried

1:13 a.m. - Going to bed, but call
anyway

I hug my phone to my chest as tears well
in my eyes. I’m about to tell only person who knew I was pregnant that I
miscarried. Considering his last message came through about an hour ago, I work
up a simple text to rip the Band-Aid off.

Me: I lost it

Trey: What are you talking about?

Me: The baby

I wait for his response, but when it
doesn’t come, I tuck my phone away. What does one say when someone tells you
they just lost their baby? There are no words, no condolences that make a
difference. I’m not mad that he doesn’t respond, I’m not even hurt, because I
think I would be at a loss as well, because any sentiment I could formulate
would be trite.

But Trey isn’t trite.

My phone vibrates in my purse that’s on
the floor beside me. When I dig it out, I see Trey’s name on the screen, but I
don’t even have to say anything when I answer, because I know he isn’t looking
for details.

“Hey. I didn’t want to text. I know
you’re not okay, but I just wanted to let you know that if you need anything,
I’m here for you.”

I hold the phone away from my face as I
exhale before responding. “Thanks, Trey. I appreciate it.”

“Did you get a chance to tell Ryan?”

“No, he doesn’t know anything,” I admit
with sadness.
Would he have even been happy?

“Do you want to talk about it?”

I shake my head, knowing he can’t see me.
Tears threaten again below the surface, but my silence answers for me.

“How’s your mom?”

My hand reaches out to touch hers. “Not
good. I’m here with her right now, and I can’t help but be scared.”

“What do the doctors say?”

“They really haven’t said anything that
makes me feel any better, so it’s pretty much a waiting game right now.”

“Like I said, I’m here if you need
anything.”

We say our goodbyes and I promise to keep
him posted. He offers to meet me at the airport, but I tell him one of the
girls will probably pick me up. I figure I need to let Joss or Cam know what’s
going on because both have called, but I haven’t returned their calls. I’m not
trying to be a bitch; I’ve had too much other stuff going on to deal with them.
I send them each a text briefing them on the news about my mom and promise to
let them know when I’m coming home. All of the small details have been taken
care of, and I’m left in the hospital room with my mom and nothing but time.

The room isn’t quiet. In fact, the
machine noises sing louder and louder while I try to hear my own thoughts. I
get out of my chair and sit on mom’s bed to be closer to her.

“So,” I start, feeling a bit idiotic.
“The doctors say you can hear us, but I’m not sure if that’s true. Seeing as I
can’t sleep anyway, I figured I’d give it a try. Do you even know what
happened?”

I lift her hand to cradle it in mine,
careful not to touch her IV line. Her finger nail polish is chipped and
scratched; her hands dry and wrinkled. Before my dad left us, she always took
great pride in her appearance, but after, the rundown look has become her norm.
She’s only forty-three, but she looks so much older with all of the drinking
and smoking over the years.

“Why did you stay with this guy, mom? He
almost killed you.” A tear runs down my cheek and I push it away with the back
of my hand. “How many times will he have to hurt you until you realize he’s bad
news? Your asshole boyfriend killed my baby.” Saying those words aloud hurt
more than the bruises all over my body. “When I got here today, I was pregnant;
you were going to be a grandma. I didn’t know how I was going to tell you, or
Ryan, for that matter. But your awesome boyfriend took care of that.”

Anger wells deep within me, not at him
for killing my baby, but at her for bringing him into our lives.

“I love you so much, but I hate you.” I
feel a sharp pain in my chest when those words exit my mouth. “I don’t mean it,
mom. I love you, I promise I do! I just don’t understand why you stay with him,
or half the losers you continue to date. Is this really the life you want for
yourself? This jerk almost killed you, and from what Lang says, it sounds like
he throws you around on a regular basis.”

“I don’t know anything about my baby,
other than I should have protected it, but instead I was fighting for you. But
that’s
your
job, mom. You’re supposed to fight for us, you’re supposed
to be the parent, but it’s a role you easily relinquished years ago. Sure, you
gave us advice, and scolded us from time to time, but then you just stopped
altogether, and chose you. I’ve always hated that about you. Your choices have
been whatever served Nora best. Shit, mom, Lang never had a childhood because
you were too messed up to do the job right. She’s more of a mom than you are,
but I’m still waiting for my mom to grow up and choose me; choose us. Hell,
maybe I’m more like you than I thought, because I wasn’t even thinking about
my
baby when I went after Scott.”

I brush my free hand through my hair in
frustration. How did this become my life? Ryan no longer a part of it, mom in a
hospital bed and me without the baby I wasn’t even planning on.

“Would you have been happy to be a
grandma?”

I laugh because I know she would have
insisted she’s too young to be a grandmother. She would have been thrilled, but
mortified, and I naively wonder if she would have changed at all.

“When you make it through this,” I
squeeze her hand, “because I know you will, you have to make some changes. You
have to take better care of yourself and stop dating jerks. I’m serious mom, if
this is what you want, then I can’t come around anymore. I’m pretty sure Lang’s
with me on this one, so you have to straighten up because I know you don’t want
to miss her wedding and she needs you there. We need you
here
, and you
need to get some help. So no more bullshit, mom.”

I try to lean to kiss her, but the action
causes pain to my ribs, so I kiss her hand.

When I move back to the chair next to her
bed, I try to get comfortable in any position, but it doesn’t seem possible.
Laying on my side, my eyes grow heavy and my silent tears fall once again.