The forest path was not as bright as it had been that morning and had definitely lost some of its fairy-tale quality, but I pushed on to my destination and hardly noticed. The metal gate latch opened just as it had before and clanged loudly behind me once I stepped through. I ran up the long gravel drive, kicking up small stones behind me as I plowed on. I hurried, somehow needing to see it again. I breathed a sigh of relief when the mermaid angel statue came into view. Yes. It was still there. I chastised myself for thinking it would be otherwise. It was real and not a figment of my mind. You are so losing it.
I sat right down at the foot of the statue and felt my heart pounding. It beat so hard I’m sure it moved the skin above it. I wasn’t dressed for running, but at least I had on shoes that worked.
I sat there for a long, long time.
The sea looked darker and more blue than it had that morning. The wind was sharper and a hint of rain could be found on the breeze. The smell was a good smell to me; earth and water and air all blended. The smell of life.
Life.
Did I have a little life starting inside me? Everyone seemed to think so. The idea of the three of them discussing me like some kind of lab rat still made me see red. Secrets again. Ethan knew I did not do secrets. I just cannot handle them and I doubt I would ever be able to. When I am the last to know things, even if they are small, it takes me right back to that moment when I first saw the video of me on that pool table being . . . f**ked like I was nothing but trash. Worthless. Ugly. So very ugly.
It’s my hang-up. My cross to bear. I hope there comes a day when I can close the lid on that Pandora’s box and keep it closed, but it’s not happened yet. Since meeting Ethan the lid has been knocked off several times.
It’s not his fault, though. I do know that much. It’s mine. I made choices like everyone does. I have to live with them. The old cliché “reap what you sow” makes a lot of sense, actually.
I wasn’t ready to look at the test yet. I just wasn’t. I guess it made me weak, but I don’t claim to be all together in the head. That’s Dr. Roswell’s job, and I’ve given the poor woman plenty to work with over the last years. She would have a field day with this news. I’d need a third job just to pay for the extra therapy.
So back to what could be. Pregnant. A baby. A child. Ethan’s baby. The two of us parents . . . I’m quite sure that when Ethan suggested we should get married, he didn’t have becoming a father in mind. He’d make a wonderful father, though. I’d seen him with Zara and the boys. He was so good with them. Playful but with some common sense. He would be the kind of father I had. The best. If that was something he even wanted. And I was terrified, because I just did not know the answer to that question.
Picturing Ethan in the role of daddy is what broke me. The tears came then, and I couldn’t hold them back for even one more second.
I cried there on the grass lawn of a beautiful stone manor perched along the Somerset coast, at the foot of a mermaid angel that looked out to sea. I cried until there were no more tears in me and it was time to move on to the next stage of this process. I’d already done denial and anger. What was next? Bargaining? Ethan would have something to say there. I felt guilty again for leaving him at the house. He was going to hate me . . .
Strangely, the crying jag helped, because I did feel marginally better. I was terribly thirsty, though.
I needed water and figured dehydration was the culprit. All that puking and running will do it to you. I looked around for a faucet and spotted one. I walked over and turned the handle to let it flow for a bit before cupping my hand and bringing the water to my mouth. It tasted so nice, I drank handful after handful until I was satisfied. I did my best with my face too, trying to wash away all the tears and snot and absolute disgusting mess I was by now.
I came back over to my place beneath the mermaid angel and again watched the sea for a time. My wet face felt cool in the breeze until it dried in the wind.
It’s time to look now.
Time to look and see what the cards had in store for me. I was as ready as I would ever be, I decided. As I reached into my pocket for the stick, I felt another wave of nausea take hold of me and wondered how I could possibly vomit up anything else.
Apparently even water wasn’t welcome in my stomach, because I was reduced to kneeling over the rocks and heaving again as all that lovely, refreshing water came right back up.
I stayed back the whole time. I gave her the space she asked me for and respected her wishes.
Until she got sick again.
I couldn’t let her suffer through that alone. Not my girl. Not when she needed some help and compassion from someone who loved her. Seeing her sitting beneath the mermaid statue and then weeping her heart out had been hard to watch. I didn’t have any other choice, though. I wasn’t letting her go it alone outside in public where she was at risk. It just wasn’t going to happen like that. I’d made sure the GPS was activated on her mobile after that morning she went out for coffee and met up with Langley on the street. The cocksucker. And since she had her mobile with her and turned on, I had been able to track her movements for nearly the whole way. The stop into the Sea Bird Café surprised me, though. I wondered why she’d done that. The statue made much more sense to me. It was very peaceful here. I could immediately see why she’d come back to this place to be alone.
“I’ve got you,” I said as I touched her back and gathered up her hair—again—for more times than I cared to count.
“Oh, Ethan . . .” she choked out in between the heaving, “I’m sorry . . . I’m sorry—”
“Shhhh, it’s okay. Don’t fight it, baby.” I rubbed over her back with one hand and held her hair with the other. “It’s just the water you had coming up now.”
When she was finally done she drooped like a wilted flower, hunched over the ground looking so very ill. I knew I needed to get her back to the house as soon as possible. She was in desperate need of Fred’s doctoring and some rest.
I pulled her up to me on unsteady legs, her tragic state shredding me from the inside out. I couldn’t help but feel horribly guilty for doing it to her too.
“Th-thank you for coming to f-f-find me,” she chattered, her lips looking more blue than anything. She was chilled and shivering, so I took off my shirt and put it on over hers, hoping the extra layer would warm her a little.