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  “Any time,” he says.

  Getting up to leave, I turn when Patrick says, “Don’t worry, it’ll all work out.”

  I smile over my shoulder at him. Those words bring me comfort. It’s my father’s favorite one liner. My heart might buy it if my head would stop messing with me.

  2

  Amelia

  “He said he wants to build us a house,” I tell my friend and co-worker, Dora, over chips and salsa at our favorite Mexican restaurant.

  “That’s something.” Her tone is encouraging. I appreciate her for that.

  She’s trying to reassure me. Even though I told Jackson that I wasn’t going to tell anyone about the pregnancy, I had to tell someone. Dora was just the girl. She and I have worked together for over a year and we immediately clicked. I share everything with her.

  “You don’t understand. Sure, I’m grateful for him making an effort, but I know him. He doesn’t want to have a baby.”

  “How can you be so sure?” She takes a sip of her strawberry margarita. I’m jealous that I can’t have one too, but I would never do anything that could harm my baby. I’m only a couple of months pregnant and I already love the baby.

  “He’s my brother’s best friend. I’ve known him forever. And since I’ve always had a crush on him, I’ve paid attention to what makes him tick.” I load a chip up with guac and pop it in my mouth just before a chunk of avocado falls.

  “Has he ever gotten another girl pregnant?”

  “Goodness. I don’t think so. I mean, he did sleep around. I heard him having sex with girls more than once in my brother’s bedroom back in high school. He’s hot and all the girls wanted a piece of him.” I shake my head, thinking back about how I used to hate it when Will and Jackson brought girls back to our house and I would catch them kissing or hear them hooking up. “You’d think that would be a turn off for me, but nope, it had the opposite effect. I wanted him more. But, he was always unattainable until recently.”

  A waitress stops by and brings us our fajita burritos. The smell of spicy chicken and melted cheese causes my stomach to growl. Ever since I found out I was pregnant, I can’t seem to fill myself up. I’m constantly hungry. Cutting myself a bite, I dip it in the sauce and pile it into my mouth. I moan at the wonderful flavors.

  “What changed between the two of you?”

  That is a great question. I don’t know what exactly changed for Jackson, because I’ve always felt this way. “We were both at a party my brother threw at his new house. When Jackson saw me, he stopped over to say hi. Not unlike any other time when we run into each other. This time though we talked for over an hour. And there was more touching this time. It was the flirtiest we’d been with each other. We were both shocked when we found out that we both had trips coming up to Ireland and that we’d be there at the same time. We agreed that we’d meet up for a drink when we were there.”

  Dora has barely touched her food; she’s been watching me intently as I tell her the story. “So, you met up while you were in another country?” She laughs. “Seems funny that you guys live in the same town, but don’t hang out until you’re thousands of miles away from home.”

  “Now that you put it like that, it is funny. But when we saw each other there it was as if we could be ourselves and not worry about anyone else. Namely my Neanderthal brother, Will. At the pub we met up at, our chemistry was off the charts. I went back to his room with him and we stayed up all night wrapped up in each other. It was intense for me. All the years of pining for him came to fruition.” My body lights up thinking about Jackson’s hands on me and how we connected.

  “Whoa, girl, you’ve got it bad. Look at you. Your cheeks are as bright red as a tomato.”

  Taking a sip of my lemonade, I hope it will cool me off. “It was amazing, so you can imagine how surprised I was when we got back to Charlottesville, Jackson became cold and distant. I had no idea what I did wrong.” A chill runs down my spine thinking back to a few months ago when I tried reaching out to him and he was like a different person.

  Dora flaps her hand in the air and raises her voice. “No way. How dare he treat you that way!”

  “He told me that he was worried about hurting my brother, but if you ask me he was scared shitless of his feelings for me. He couldn’t stay away long. It was a little over a month and he was at my door apologizing.”

  “Obviously, you forgave him. What did he say to you? It must’ve been good.”

  “Oh, it was. It wasn’t just the way he said he was sorry. It was how he said it. He showed up with flowers and peach rings. He knows how much I love that candy. And we talked for hours about how things have changed for us and how we both felt about each other and how we’d figure out a way to make Will understand.”

  “Can you trust him? You don’t think he’ll run away again?”

  A pit forms at the bottom of my stomach. Would he ever leave me once I had the baby? Maybe. The way he reacted after I told him I was pregnant scared me. He was in his head and even though he’s talking about building us a house, he still doesn’t seem quite normal. “I’ve got no idea. He has feelings for me, that he can’t deny. I’m just not sure he’s figured out if he can handle all of the emotions and commitment a girlfriend and baby bring.”

  Dora takes a huge bite of her lunch and sits back with a satisfied look on her face. “I have a feeling you two are going to figure this out.”

  “Thanks for your confidence.”

  Thirty minutes later, we finish eating, pay our bill for dinner, and go our separate ways home.

  Since I haven’t heard from Jackson today, I decide it’s best not to go to his place, but mine instead.

  My apartment is small, but my furnishing and décor are perfect for my personality. Colorful paintings and leather furniture. Overstuffed pillows with crazy designs and multiple style lamps, some that sit on the end tables and others on the floor. And plants: I’ve got Peperomia, Philodendron, and English Ivy hanging from the ceiling. Items that at first glance might seem mismatched, but do in fact go together seamlessly.

  Tossing my purse on the kitchen counter, I remove my heels and go to my couch to sit down. I unbutton my pants, thinking maybe I shouldn’t have indulged quite as much at dinner. What a stupid idea to finish everything on my plate, but my stomach seems to be a bottomless pit since I got pregnant. Going to my room, I change out of my tight work clothes and put on a pair of comfy sweats and a t-shirt.

  When I text Jackson to see if he’s coming over tonight, he texts back that he’ll see me tomorrow night. He’s got dinner plans with his parents and Patrick tonight. It’s for the best. I’m definitely not feeling sexy tonight. Bloated and crampy is more like it.

  Sprawling out on my bed, I grab the murder mystery book I just started reading. It distracts me from the look I can still see on Jackson’s face this morning. He’s concerned and conflicted. If I’m honest with myself, I know he doesn’t want this baby. At least not yet. It’s going to take some time for him to get used to the idea. But I know he’s going to be great. He’s got so much love in his heart to give. And his family is everything to him. I’ve had a month and a half, he’s had two days. I have to give him time.

  Jackson mentioned building us a house. It’s a step in the right direction. While he’s figuring out where to put the electrical sockets and plumbing, he should get used to the idea of having a baby around. At least I hope that’s what will happen. Only time will tell.

  I’m up way before my alarm. My stomach aches and is twisting in knots. I hop up and out of bed and make it to the bathroom, not sure if I’m going to be sick or not. Something isn’t right. The pain gets worse on the left side of my abdomen. When the cramping doesn’t subside, panic ripples through my body and I reach for my phone to try and call Jackson. He doesn’t answer. It is four thirty in the morning. After I send him a text to give me a call, I try calling Dora. She doesn’t answer either. I leave her a message, telling her that something is wrong. With the cramping discomfort
growing unbearable, I do the only thing I can and dial 911.

  “You’re just waking up from surgery. Can you open your eyes for me, Amelia?” It’s a voice I don’t recognize. My eyelids are heavy and I’m nauseous. When I gather the strength, I blink several times to see an older nurse with a friendly face.

  “There you are. My name is Wanda. How are you feeling?”

  “I think I might get sick.” My voice comes out hoarse and my throat is sore.

  She hands me some sort of basin. “You can vomit in this if you have to, dear, but I’m going to get some medication in your IV. That should do the trick.”

  Focusing on my breathing, the nausea starts to subside some. Looking down, I see that I’m lying on a hospital bed with a thin white blanket draped over me. “What happened to me, Wanda?” The last thing I remember is cramping up and calling 911. I don’t even remember the ride to the hospital or speaking to anyone about surgery.

  “Try to relax. Your blood pressure is going up.” A monitor from somewhere behind me beeps faster than it was a moment ago.

  Dread takes over my thoughts and my mouth is as dry as a bone. “Can you please tell me why I had surgery? Did something happen to my baby? I don’t remember anything.”

  “The doctor will be over soon,” Wanda says as she walks away.

  “Please, can you tell me if Jackson is here?” My voice comes out weak and Wanda must not hear me. Either that or she’s ignoring me.

  I must have dozed off. When I wake up, I’m in a different room. The walls are drab blue and the sounds of beeping monitors play in the background. The smell of antiseptic and hand sanitizer fill the small space. When I look to my right, Dora is in the chair next to my bed. She’s asleep with her head leaned back at an uncomfortable angle and a soft snore is coming from her mouth.

  Inching myself up in the bed to sit more upright causes slight discomfort in my abdomen. A moan escapes my throat. Dora stirs and looks over at me with one eye open and the other closed. “Are you okay?”

  “I think so.” My voice is clearer than it was earlier when I was talking to Nurse Wanda and my throat isn’t quite as sore.

  She stands up and looks me over. “Let me get the nurse; she can get you something for your pain.” Before I even have the chance to object, she’s out of the room.

  When she returns, a young woman in bright pink scrubs is behind her. “Hi, Amelia. My name is Shelley. How is your pain?”

  “It isn’t too bad. Can you please tell me what happened to me? I don’t remember anything.” There’s chaotic thoughts going through my mind trying to figure out what went down this morning. All I remember is splitting pain in my abdomen and calling 911.

  Shelley opens up my chart on the computer in my room. “You had an ectopic pregnancy. It’s common with IUDs. Unfortunately, it ruptured and you had to have surgery this morning to remove it. But don’t worry, all went well and the doctor was able to make a small incision with the laparoscope and took care of everything.”

  All of Shelley’s words jumble together and stop making sense. “So, my baby is gone?”

  “Yes, I’m sorry, but you shouldn’t have any problems getting pregnant again,” Shelley says, matter of fact. Like I didn’t just have a miscarriage.

  I lost the baby. Tears well up in the corners of my eyes. Dora hands me the box of tissues on my nightstand. Taking out a few, I dab at my cheeks.

  “Can I get you something for your pain?” Shelley asks.

  “No. I’m okay.” But that’s a lie. I’m anything but okay. “When can I go home?”

  “In a day or two. The doctor will be in to see you later on. There’s a button on your remote. Press it if you need anything.” Shelley gives me a small smile; it’s a cross between ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘I’ve got other patients, I’ve got to go.’

  “Thank you,” I say.

  As soon as she’s out the door, I let the tears flow. I can’t believe this happened to my baby. It’s my fault. I should’ve called my obstetrician sooner. With work being so crazy lately, I kept putting off making the appointment. I’m sure this could’ve been avoided if I went to see the doctor sooner.

  “I’m so sorry, Amelia.” Dora puts her arms around my neck.

  Instead of comforting me, the tears fall faster. “I should have never let this happen,” I say between sobs.

  “Oh, this isn’t your fault.”

  “Yes, it is. I had the IUD.”

  “You didn’t know this would happen,” Dora says.

  She’s trying to make me feel better. I don’t think anything will help. In this moment, I want Jackson. Even though I dread telling him. How will he react? It’s not as if he actually wanted a baby. What if he’s relieved? Either way, I have to tell him. “Do you know where my phone is?”

  Dora goes to a small closet in the corner of the room and pulls out a white plastic bag with my belongings and hands it to me.

  Rifling through it, I find my cell in the pocket of my sweat pants. There are three texts from Jackson and two missed calls.

  I see that you called. Everything okay? Call me back when you have a minute.

  After the second time he called, two hours later he texted again.

  Hey, call me as soon as you can.

  After another hour, he texts again.

  I’m worried now. Please call me.

  There’s no way for me to avoid the conversation, so I call Jackson’s cell phone. He picks up on the first ring. “Amelia. Is everything okay?”

  “Hi, Jackson.” I swallow hard against the giant lump forming in the back of my throat. “I’m okay now, but I’m in the hospital.”

  “What happened?” There’s concern in his voice.

  Taking a deep calming breath before I speak, I give myself a minute to collect myself. I don’t want to cry on the phone with him. “I lost the baby and ended up needing surgery. I’m sorry.”

  There’s a long pause on the line before he says, “I’m sorry, Amelia.”

  That’s it? That’s all he’s going to say? “I’m going to be fine. I should be able to go home soon.”

  “I can come up there and see you.”

  It’s for the best that he stays away from here. I’m a mess and seeing him will only make things worse. I don’t want to see his reaction. What if he’s sad and disappointed? I can’t offer him any comfort, I don’t have it in me. And what if I see relief in his eyes? I’ll hate him. “No. Don’t bother. I’m sure you’re busy with work.”

  “Yeah. It’s crazy here today, but I don’t want you to be alone.”

  “Dora is here. She’s going to stay.” I do my best to strip all emotion from my voice.

  “Okay. Please call me if you need anything,” he says.

  “Sure will.” I hang up before I cry into the phone. Disappointment rips through me. It stings that he didn’t insist on coming here to see me, even though I told him not to. My emotions are all over the map. Do I want him here or not? My heart does, but I can’t afford another disappointment today.

  “Do you mind staying?” I ask Dora.

  “I’m not going anywhere, girl.”

  “Thank you.” If she told me she’s leaving, I’d be here alone. Calling my parents or brother isn’t an option. They didn’t know that I was pregnant to begin with and there’s no way I’m telling them now. It’s a secret that only Dora, Jackson, and I will ever know.

  3

  Jackson

  Popping the top off a beer, I pull a chair up in Patrick’s office. My last meeting today went long, so I was happy to see that Patrick was still here.

  “What’s on your mind, man?” he asks.

  “Bad news, brother. Amelia had a miscarriage today.” Crossing my foot over my knee, I get comfortable in the chair even though I’m anything but.

  “I’m sorry. How are you feeling?” Patrick’s elbows come down to the surface of the desk, his head cocks to the side.

  Conflicted. I’m ashamed to say it. There wasn’t much time for me to get used to the
idea of being a father. But now that I’ve heard she lost the baby, part of me aches for the child we might’ve had. “It’s terrible.”

  “Where is she?”

  “At the hospital. We only talked on the phone for a minute. She was distant.” Her voice was as cold as ice when we spoke.

  “Why aren’t you there comforting her?” His tone is curious, not accusing.

  “She told me not to come. Shouldn’t I respect her wishes?”

  “Women are so damned confusing. They often say one thing and mean another. My bet is that she’d rather have you there.”

  “Then why the hell would she tell me not to?”

  He shakes his head, eyes gazing off out the window. No doubt contemplating a good answer to give me when there just aren’t any. “I can’t explain it. Hell, if I could, maybe my wife would still be here.”

  It’s rare that he brings up Maggie. She’s always a sore subject. That’s why I do my best to tread lightly and not bring her up. “Don’t say that. None of us understand what was going on in her head when she took off. Stop blaming yourself.”

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring her up. I’m not being sensitive to you. Amelia lost a baby today. It’s a terrible loss and she has to be crushed. If I were you, I’d go up there, bring her some flowers. Tell her you’re sorry about what happened. She’ll like that better than you staying away.”

  She seemed pretty adamant about me not visiting her. And she’s not alone. “I would like to see her.” Imagining her lying in the hospital, upset and sore, tugs at me. “You’re right. I’m going to go.”

  This brings a memory up for me, as clear as day. I was thirteen and spending the weekend with Will. Amelia started to have pain in her side one evening. Her mom took her to the ER. She had an appendicitis attack. The next morning, Will’s dad wanted to go see Amelia at the hospital and wouldn’t leave us home alone, so we had to go with him.