Mine to Lose (22 page)

My body aches.

I keep trying to move and get comfortable,
but every movement causes greater pain. The same machine noises, which were so
loud last night, lulled me to sleep after my “talk” with mom. But the
scratching sound I keep hearing is a new one. The room is freezing and I do my
best to keep my eyes shut because I’m sure I’ve only slept for a couple of
hours. I keep having strange dreams that I can’t remember, I just know they
wake me briefly and then I manage to get back to sleep.

What in the world is that scratching
noise?

It can’t be normal. I roll over to see my
mom’s hand grasping at the blankets that are covering her body. I sit up as
fast as my body will allow and get to her bedside. I take her hand in mine and
look at her face; her good eye is barely open.

“Mom,” I squeeze her hand. “It’s Emmy.
Can you hear me?”

She squeezes my hand back. “I’m going to
get a nurse. I’ll be right back.”

I rush into the hallway to grab someone
so they can check on mom. They send me out of the room while they examine her
so I end up walking around the hospital, somehow ending up in the maternity
ward. It’s still early, so there aren’t many visitors or even people standing
to look at babies behind the glass. There are only a few that remain in the
nursery, the rest are probably with their mothers. I stand there and look at
them sleeping peacefully, so tiny and innocent.

Maybe it just wasn’t the right time
, I try to rationalize, but it doesn’t make it hurt
any less.
Would I have been a good mom?
I like to think I would be, but
I’ve never really been around any kids. Hell, I never really considered having
any of my own anytime soon. Even when Ryan and I were engaged, we never talked
about it. I think we both wanted them,
someday
, but our careers were our
top priority at the time. He would have been the most amazing dad. I’ve seen
little girls look at him and he would smile widely at them and give them a
wink. They would hide behind their parent’s legs and peek their head back out
and smile at him. Those times where he acknowledged kids would make me smile
and excited for the day we would have our own.

I make my way back to my mom’s room and
knock on the door before opening it. She’s still on the ventilator, but she
seems slightly more alert. A nurse is there with her checking something when
she sees me.

“You’re her daughter, right?”

“Yes ma’am. How is she?”

“The doctor just left but he told her
that he wants to keep her on the ventilator for a little longer. I’ve given her
a pad and pencil to communicate. It’s probably going to be frustrating for her,
but I told her that it’s just for a little while. Hopefully she’ll get the tube
taken out this afternoon.”

“Thank you,” I say to her as she leaves
the room.

Mom waves me in closer and her one good
eye is open more than it was before. She taps the pad that’s on her chest, so I
reach for it and hand it to her, assuming she has something to say. She shakes
her head and points to me, so I take it and read her words.

“I’m sorry.”

“Mom, you didn’t do anything wrong,” I
answer, hoping to ease her guilt.

She shakes her head and points to the pad
again, but this time she wants it back. She scribbles something down and hands
it back to me as a tear runs down her cheek.

“About the baby.”

 “You heard me?” I start to cry
reading her words.

She tries to nod her head and set the pad
down on the table next to the bed. She waves me closer and I place my hand in
hers. She squeezes weakly, putting as much love into the movement as she can.

“It hurts so much, Mom. I didn’t know I
could feel such pain.”

She reaches out to touch my face and her
brow furrows. She points to the pad again so I hand it to her. “What are you
going to tell Ryan?”

“Nothing. He doesn’t even know I was
pregnant. I don’t want him to go through what I’m going through. To say
anything would kill him, and it’s bad enough that I have to deal with it. I
love him too much to hurt him like that.”

She shakes her head and writes again. “He
has the right to know.”

“I know you’re right. But what is it
going to solve, is it going to make him feel better? No. I’m trying to spare
him.”

We look at each other and she silently
disapproves of my decision, but she nods in understanding. I send Lang a text
letting her know that mom is alert, but unable to communicate right now. She is
on her way, so I only have a few more moments alone with Mom.

“So you heard what I said. What about
everything else? What about Scott?”

She writes something down and shows it to
me. “It’s never been this bad.”

She looks ashamed that I have to see her
like this, and it gives me hope. Maybe she’s going to do what’s necessary to
make sure it never happens again.

“He’s in jail right now. They need your
statement as soon as you’re ready. Please promise me you’re going to press
charges,” I plead with tears in my eyes.

She closes her good eye in defeat and
nods her agreement before jotting something else down. She hands me the pad and
I read her question. “Trey?”

I laugh, for the first time since early
yesterday and shake my head, “Friends. We’re just very good friends. He was
worried because he’s the only one who knows I’m pregnant.” I pause to correct
myself, “
Was
pregnant.”

For the first time in a long time, being
with her is a good thing. The sympathy she feels for me is visible through her
bruised and swollen features. I wish my body didn’t ache as much as it does,
because I want so much to crawl into her arms and let her console me. The door
opens to reveal Lang and Reid holding hands, Ryan trailing in behind them. I
didn’t know he was still around, I figured he would have headed to Salt Lake to
get back to work. I remember the messages mom scribbled, so I take the pad and
rip the pages free and toss them into the trash, leaving it ready for her next
conversation.

I look down and shrug when she gives me
that look, the one that says she knows exactly what I was up to. I wink at her
and move aside so my sister can talk to her, and hopefully reiterate what I’ve
already said.

* * *

By the afternoon, Mom’s ventilator was
removed and she was a bit more comfortable. She was in a lot of pain, but at
least she was able to move more freely. Langley kept trying to tell me it was
okay for me to head home and she would keep me posted, but there was no way I
was leaving until I knew that Mom did the one thing I asked of her.

I was in the room when the police came by
early Monday morning to get her statement about the attack. It was somewhat
hard for her to talk because her throat was sore, presumably from the breathing
tube. The officer was patient as he listened to her recount the events of the
day, but I couldn’t help but cry, hearing the story for the first time.

“Scott came over around three in the
morning. He was still drunk from the night before, so I let him in and fixed
him a place on the couch. I went back to sleep, but when my alarm went off for
me to get up for work; he was in bed beside me. I didn’t even hear him come in.
I tried to get out of the bed without disturbing him, but he woke up anyway. He
started yelling crazy things, he sounded paranoid. Accused me of cheating, and
then saying that I don’t make any time for him. I knew he was still drunk, so I
tried to calm him down, but that pissed him off more.”

She looked over at Lang and me before
continuing, but we both nodded for her to resume and tell them everything.

“I told him that I was going to call in
sick to work and I would spend the day with him, and that’s when he snapped. He
started screaming that he’s not a child and doesn’t need someone to babysit
him. He started throwing crap all over the place and telling me that I’m
worthless and lucky that he’s even with me. I tried to defend myself but he
backhanded me and said it was no wonder my husband left me. I was holding my
face and crying, but he didn’t care. I knew he was wrong, my husband left
because he had issues, not me.”

It was the first time I’d ever heard mom
acknowledge that my father was the problem, not her. I grabbed Lang’s hand and
she squeezed as she heard the same thing. I felt hope; hope that maybe Mom was
going to come out of this stronger.

“I fought back. For the first time since
I met him, I yelled back and that set him off. He grabbed me by my throat and
threw me against the wall. I was trying to pull his fingers off of me, but he
was too strong. He head butted me in my eye and dropped me to the floor. I put
my hand to my eye and there was blood, so I tried to get up and run, but he
pushed me into another wall and that’s the last thing I remember.”

Listening to her find the strength to
file charges against him made me both proud and hopeful that things were going
to change. It was hard hearing the details of what happened, but I was also
thankful she couldn’t remember the most brutal part of the attack. She knows
she was stabbed in her stomach and her arm was broken, but she had already
blacked out by that point.

I was convinced that things were taking a
turn for the better, so I listened to my sister and decided to head home. Lang
swore she would call me if anything changed, but she was taking Mom home with
her once she was released from the hospital. Since I didn’t have anything to
pack, I said my goodbyes and told Mom that I would call her to check in when I
got back to my place.

Ryan followed me out to say goodbye, or
so I thought. He insisted he could drop me off at the airport in Salt Lake,
since he was heading back too. I argued that I had a rental car, but he said it
made sense to leave it at the nearest drop off spot and drive to the city
together. Somehow, being with him was exactly what I needed, so I agreed and
here I am, ten minutes later regretting the decision.

“Can I ask you something?” I ask him, as
though we are mere acquaintances.

“Yeah,” he nods, never taking his eyes
off the road.

“Why did you drive all the way out here?
I mean, I appreciate it, it’s just, we’re not together anymore, and well, I
guess I’m just curious. You got me Langley’s message, you could have stopped
there. But you didn’t, why?” I use the chance to stare at him while I wait for
his answer. I haven’t been able to really look at him with everything that’s
going on. He looks thinner than he did the last time I saw him. He’s still so
beautiful, but something about him looks worn, but then again, the last two
days have been pure hell.

He shrugs and looks over at me before returning
his eyes to the road. “You’re my family, Em. I love your family and I knew that
you would be scared. I really didn’t even think about it, I just knew I needed
to get to the hospital. For you.”

“About the date-” I start to explain, but
he shakes his head and interrupts me.

“You don’t need to say anything, Em. It’s
none of my business, I mean, I don’t like it, but what can I say about it?” He
sounds hurt when says this.

“Agreed, I don’t have to explain.” I
glance at him and see the faintest of a smile appear. “But, just to let you
know, I haven’t moved on. There are things that- I mean, work has me really
busy.”

He reaches out to my hand that rests on
my lap, but pulls away, until I flip my hand over, welcoming the gesture. His
fingers entwine with mine and he squeezes gently. “I’m sorry for the
circumstances, but I am happy I got to see you again.”

“Why did you leave the apartment the
other night? I didn’t even know you were still there until I heard the door
shut.”

He pulls his hand away, pain in his eyes.
“You said it was over.”

“As I recall, I only repeated your words,
Ryan; you ended things between us and I’ve been doing what I have to do to be alright
with your decision. It’s been harder than you know,” I admit, thinking about
the baby we just lost.

I decide that now is not the time to talk
about the failings of our relationship or what could have been. I’m still
trying to wrap my head around the happenings of the last four days, and I’m exhausted
and emotionally drained.

“How’s work going?” I ask him, sticking
to a safe, superficial subject.

“It’s been okay, things have been pretty
busy. We’re supposed to talk to a potential client on Wednesday.”

“Are you ready for it?” I’m curious how
he could be; he’s been at the hospital for the last three days with me.

“I told Alex she needed to handle it, I
had family business to take care of,” he states without any hint of sarcasm.
“What about you? How’d your event go?”

I smile and give myself a mental pat on
the back. “It went really well. I even gave out my card to a couple of
interested ladies. I was supposed to meet with Elle this morning to brief her
on everything, but obviously that didn’t happen.”

We talk the rest of the drive like old
friends, but the air is heavy, and I can’t help the sadness that hides beneath
the surface. He pulls into the drop off area at the airport and reaches for my
hand again. To him, everything going on with me right now is related to my mom,
because he doesn’t know that anything else has gone on.