One Day Soon (23 page)

“You would be an amazing mom, Imi. I always knew that,” Yoss said softly, but I barely heard him.

“Weeks passed and my belly got a little bigger. Not much. Just enough to start wearing bigger pants and stretchy shirts. Then the day came when we were able to find out the sex. We were having a little girl.” Breathless. Joy. So much happiness.

The baby in the bassinet began to stir, her little mouth open and closing. “We were going to name her Gabrielle. Gabby for short. I bought her pretty pink blankets and Chris put together a crib. We argued over colors for the nursery. We never could decide. Though in the end, we didn’t need to.”

“Imi—”

“For three months I was the happiest I could ever remember being. Even when I was with you, it was nothing compared to feeling Gabby growing inside of me,” I told him. Heartbeats. Excited smiles. Contentment.

I watched as Maria put one baby down and picked up the tiny girl who was now crying. I wished I could hold her. If one of the other nurses were on duty I’d be able to. But Maria wouldn’t allow it. So I’d be have to okay with watching from the outside.

“That’s my happy story, Yoss. The one that’s real.”

I felt Yoss press his shoulder into mine. “Where’s Gabby now?” His question was gentle. His words were knives.

This was the part of the story I didn’t like to think about.

“I suffered from a placental abruption at twenty-eight weeks.” Pain. So much of it. Blood. Red and dark running down my legs. Then an emptiness I never recovered from.

“I woke up one morning and I knew something was wrong. I could feel it. Just a few weeks before I had felt her move for the first time. That morning she wasn’t moving at all. And I
knew.
Chris rushed me here and I gave birth to our little girl.” I took a deep breath. “And then two days later we buried her.”

Yoss didn’t say he was sorry and I was thankful for that. I didn’t want his sympathy any more than he ever wanted mine.

“But those twenty-eight weeks were amazing. The most perfect time of my life. I was a mother. And I knew the second I found out about her that that was the only thing I ever wanted to be.” Marie realized we were standing there and gave me a sour look. I knew it was only a matter of time before she came out and told us to leave.

I took Yoss by the arm and started to walk him back to the elevator. He had been on his feet too long. I could tell that he was exhausted; his eyes were drawn. He also looked incredibly sad and I knew that my story had done that.

“A happy story doesn’t always have a happy ending,” I said as we left Labor and Delivery, feeling the need to defend my feelings.

“You didn’t have any more children,” he stated. Not asked. I noted the difference.

“No. After losing Gabby I had two more miscarriages before I was told I would never be able to carry to term. I learned that some things weren’t meant to be.”

We waited in front of the elevator and I felt strangely relieved to share my loss with him. Losing Gabby and each subsequent miscarriage had chiseled away at the shaky foundation of my marriage. Chris hadn’t understood why I chose to lock myself away in order to cope. The horrible truth was that I hadn’t loved him enough to explain.

Yoss was right. I
was
different. Imogen Conner was a changed woman. I had felt it the day Yoss left me. I had felt it when I was told I would have to give birth to a dead child. I had felt it when my husband closed the door behind him as he walked away from me and our marriage.

And while each had hurt in different ways, I had accepted them. I lingered over some. I swept away the others.

I felt I was stronger for it.

I had given up on happy endings and one day soons.

I was
okay.

But seeing Yoss again had made me question all of it.

“Did you think about adopting?” Yoss asked and I flinched. I couldn’t help it. It had been the source of a major disagreement. One of many but perhaps the worst. The one that ultimately ended us.

I had suggested adopting. Chris had been adamantly against it.

“I won’t raise another person’s child!” he screamed, slamming his fist down on the table. If we weren’t so emotionally disconnected I would have seen the despair in his eyes at the thought of never having a baby with me. I would have realized that his anger was not only about losing our dream of a family, but it was about losing me as well.

Because I had checked out of our relationship a long time ago. Maybe I had never really
checked in.

“I’m not married anymore. I’m not sure I’m up to raising a baby on my own,” I admitted.

Yoss started to take my hand just as the elevator doors opened, but then promptly stopped himself. “If you want it, you can have it, Imogen. Don’t make excuses because you’re scared,” he remarked harshly, almost angrily.

“That’s not fair, Yoss, and you know it.” I was starting to get just as angry. Just as frustrated.

Yoss ran his hands over his face, letting out a beleaguered sigh. “I wanted so much more for you than this.”

“Than what? I’ve done all right for myself,” I argued half-heartedly.

“Your happy story shouldn’t be remembering dreams you gave up on. It’s not right. Not for you, Imi.”

Yoss dropped his hands and in a sudden movement he grabbed my upper arms and pulled me towards him. I barely had time to register what he was doing before his mouth crashed angrily against mine.

Teeth. Lips. Tears.

Heartbeat slamming in my ears. His fingers curled almost aggressively into my skin.

He kissed me, not like the boy he had been, with passion and longing. This was a desperate kiss. Full of pent up emotions that had been bottled up for entirely too long.

He moaned low and ragged in the back of his throat and my knees started to buckle. I was just bringing up my arms to put around him, to try to soften the attack, when he abruptly ended the kiss.

His eyes were bright. His cheeks were flushed. Our breathing was erratic, coming in short, angry bursts.

I hadn’t kissed him in so long. But I hadn’t forgotten how he could make me forget everything. I lost all sense and reason when Yoss put his lips on mine.

I wanted, more than anything, to do it again.

But then I realized where we were.

I cast a quick look around, hoping no one saw us. There were people about, but no one seemed to be paying us any mind.

I touched my tender mouth, still feeling him there. Harsh. Almost enraged. His hands were shaking and I reached out to touch him, but he tensed, backing up slightly. Increasing the distance between us.

“Why did you leave me underneath the bridge?” I asked. For the third time.

And again I didn’t get an answer.

We were engaged in a frustrating dance where I’d ask the important questions and he would ignore me completely.

Once on the elevator, I hit the button for the third floor, staring at the ceiling as we began to make our decent. Yoss didn’t say anything else.

Neither did I.

He refused my help getting back into bed and I didn’t push it. He seemed upset. Frustrated. I didn’t really understand what had prompted the drastic mood shift and I was too emotionally exhausted to question it.

Talking about Gabby had left me open and raw. Kissing Yoss had rendered me oozing and vulnerable. I needed to leave before he inflicted more damage.

“I’ll check in with you before I leave,” I told Yoss as he lay back against his pillows, clearly tired. I felt guilty for letting him do so much when he was still recovering.

“You don’t have to. I’ll be fine. Just go home,” he said as I turned to leave.

I hesitated, hurt by his dismissal. “Okay.” That’s all I could say. Even though I wanted to argue with him. I wanted to scream and cry and yell. The numbness was gone. I was all emotion. Too much emotion.

But I couldn’t give it to him. Not yet.

“I’m sorry, Imi.” His apology whispered in my ears as I left the room. But it was the words that followed that burrowed deep.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be who you deserved.”

I stopped just before opening the door.

“I’m sorry I believed that you already were,” I responded softly.

I left, not sure if I imagined the sound of his sobs.

Fifteen Years Ago

S
ummer felt endless. Warm days. Cool nights. Toes dipped in the river. Swimming in the current.

Drying in the grass and laughing with new friends.

Sunsets and stories.

Holding hands and stolen kisses.

It sounded perfect.

It wasn’t.

Far from it.

Summer was also dark corners and silent secrets. It was falling in love with a boy who was trying to keep himself from crumbling.

We were homeless. Living in a dirty warehouse falling asleep to the sounds of crying every single night hoping that the next day would be better than the one before it.

It was ugly.

It was real.

But there were moments that were almost beautiful. It was impossible to be with Yoss and not see the hope in the middle of so much misery.

His lips were warm on mine. I tried to ignore the taste of blood on my tongue from where his skin was split. I ran my fingers over a new burn on his arm. It was small, circular, like the end of a cigarette.

He had been gone all night. I had woken up to an empty bed and a stomach full of fear.

But then he showed up before sunrise and I was all right again.

“Get a room,” Di groaned, throwing something in our direction. Yoss grinned under my mouth, kissing me one last time before pulling away. His green eyes were shadowed, but happy.

So, so happy.

“You’re just jealous,” Yoss smirked at our friend who was trying to light a cigarette with a Zippo that had obviously seen better days.

“Of what? Swapping spit? I don’t think so. I have other things I’d rather be doing with my time,” Di snipped, finally tossing the dead lighter into the river. “Anyone have a book of matches? A blowtorch? Anything?” she yelled, clearly frustrated by her lack of nicotine.

Bug pulled three lighters from his pocket. “Pick one.”

Di smirked. “What’s with you and lighters? I don’t get it.”

Bug shrugged and dumped the pile in the grass at her feet.

Yoss wrapped his arm around my shoulder and kissed the top of my head. He nuzzled my hair and I beamed, feeling hot all over. “What are you getting up to today, Di?” he asked. Di was finally taking a long drag from her smoke and passed the pack to Yoss. He fished one out and dangled it between his lips.

“You’re looking at it.” She flicked ash onto the ground and spit out a stray piece of tobacco.

“I was thinking of heading to the park later,” Bug piped up, rubbing the side of his neck. He didn’t seem as strung out today, which was nice to see. Lately Bug had been high most of the time.

“That could be fun,” I said as Yoss leaned down and kissed the skin below my ear. I shivered. It would never go further than that.

Yossarian Frazier was the only eighteen-year-old boy I had ever met that
wasn’t
trying to get into his girlfriend’s pants.

But I couldn’t allow myself to get overly frustrated about it. Because then I’d have to think about the reasons why he wouldn’t let himself get intimate with me.

I tried to be satisfied with what he was willing to give me.

But I was sixteen. I was full of desperate, needy hormones. I wanted more. So much more.

“You want me to push you on the swings, Buggy Boy?” Shane chuckled, flipping his skateboard over in the dirt.

Bug threw a handful of rocks at Shane, who easily dodged them. “Maybe I should bury you in the fucking sandbox, asshole.”

They started shoving each other playfully and Yoss rolled his eyes. “Now play nicely kids,” he said drolly.

“It looks like the boys need to burn some energy. So I say let’s go push some kids off the seesaw,” Di snickered.

“You’re going to the park? I want to come!” Karla exclaimed, sitting down on the other side of Yoss.