Crushed Page 8

  Seth releases me with an exhale. “Fine, take his headgear off, but you’re putting him at risk, not me.” He turns his angry, volcanic gaze to Jackson. “You clearly don’t know who you’re dealing with.”

  I move to the stairs as Jackson laughs at Seth. “I know who he is. Mitchell Fabriza. World Middleweight Boxing Champion, two years in a row.”

  “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  Jackson moves to the ropes with a smile just for me. I reach out and pinch the straps of his headgear between the tips of my fingers. “Because I don’t care. I’ll beat him anyway.”

  Seth snorts. “Yeah. Okay.”

  “Confidence is sexy,” I tell him, freeing his chin from the strap.

  He smirks. “You think I can beat him?”

  “You’re just sparring.” I grab the top of the soft headgear and free Jackson’s head, smiling at his flat, sweaty hair. “It’s friendly.”

  “When am I ever friendly?”

  “Good point,” I tease. “I think you can beat him, but I also think you don’t have to. We have a scan soon, remember?”

  “How could I forget?” Shooting forward, he kisses me on the nose. “Give me ten minutes and then we’ll go.”

  I nod. Lucky for Jackson, I arrived early just in case something stopped him from leaving straight away. I make my way back down the stairs. Behind me, the heavy sounds of fists pummeling flesh fills the air, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand tall.

  I join Olivia and Chloe on the mats, crouching low in my heels.

  “Weena,” Chloe cheers without looking up from her scribble on Darryl’s notepad.

  “Hi, sweetheart.” I touch her chocolate hair, smoothing down her waves with my palm. “What are you drawing?”

  She ignores me, making Olivia giggle.

  “I’m sure there’s an animal in there somewhere.” She rests back on her hands, grinning widely at me, exposing her pearly white teeth. “Are you excited for the ultrasound?”

  I nod. “Yeah. I’m a little nervous too. Is that normal?”

  “Of course.”

  I woke up this morning irrationally thinking what if I made this all up? What if I’m not actually pregnant? It’s possible, you know. Women have phantom pregnancies all the time. Mine was confirmed with a blood test, however, so I have that to keep me sane, at least.

  “I know we couldn’t talk much at breakfast because Seth was there, but I’m really glad you and Jackson sorted it out. It kills me to say it, but you’re good together.”

  Olivia and Jackson have rarely seen eye to eye, like Seth and I, but she knows the guys I usually date. Jackson’s hard to swallow, but I’ve never felt with anyone the way I do when I’m with him.

  Heat swells in my cheeks at the thought of last night. He asked me to marry him which was a surprise. I had no idea he was so invested in us.

  “Why are you blushing?” she probes, her green eyes igniting with glee.

  I contemplate keeping it from her, but the urge is too strong. When I have I ever been able to keep gossip like this under wraps?

  “Jackson asked me to marry him last night.”

  Her eyes go wide, her lips parting. “Oh my God. What did you say?”

  “I told him to ask me again when we’re in a better place and Amelia isn’t in the picture.” More or less.

  As much as I would enjoy rubbing our union in Amelia’s face, I can’t. Trying to one-up her is the reason my life became such a mess in the first place. From here on out, I’m going to worry less about Amelia ruining my relationship with Jackson and focus on not ruining what we’ve already got myself.

  “Good. I can’t stand that woman.”

  That makes two of us.

  “I don’t know why he’d want to work for her,” she continues. “I don’t trust it.”

  “Yeah, well, he’s convinced he’s doing the right thing.” I swallow. “Would Seth do it?”

  Olivia exhales in thought, glancing over my shoulder. “I want to say no, but…I think he would if it meant he could better support us.”

  I don’t know why I find comfort in that answer. I guess, in a way, I do admire Seth for all that he does for his family, and if he’d do it for Olivia, Jackson can do it for me without the added pressure of my worries. I want to be there for him through this whole ordeal and then, when it’s over, we can finally put it all behind us and move forward with our precious little jellybean.

  ***

  My bladder is full. Like, crazy full. The sensation makes me want to puke. Beside me, Jackson bounces his leg, his attention flicking over the baby photos and scans that run along the skirting of the ceiling. It’s interesting, what they can see inside the belly. Legs. Arms. Head. Organs. I don’t think our baby is going to look like much of a baby at this appointment, but at least we get to see its heartbeat. That’s all I want. Once I know everything is okay, I’m sure this dread I’m feeling deep down will go away.

  I can’t explain the feeling…it’s heavy and not comforting at all. I don’t know if it’s something I’m bringing on myself or—

  “—Selena Graham?”

  Jackson and I jump to our feet and the mature woman that called my name offers us an endearing smile.

  “Right through here,” she says, stepping to the side, clenching a small white paper in her plain hand.

  Jackson plants a firm, supportive hand on my lower back and ushers me through reception, down a hall, into a dark room on the left. It smells like disinfectant, as all of these medical places do, I’ve recently noticed.

  The lady closes the door and suggests I lie down on the bed and expose my belly. I do the best I can to relax my whole body without peeing myself, and once my flat tummy is out in the open, Jackson moves into the space beside me.

  “You can sit down on that chair over there, if you like.”

  “I’m good,” he tells her, taking my hand in his and offering me a comforting smile.

  I didn’t tell him that he looks good in his tight black polo and loose jeans and he smells even better. The sonographer asks me to confirm my full name and date of birth, so I do. She asks me how many times I’ve been pregnant and I ignore the unintentional twitch in Jackson’s grasp before I answer with “once.”

  Without a word, she lifts a strange-looking wand thing and squirts a clear lubricant on the end. I inhale through my mouth, subtly, as she brings the wand to my belly. I close my eyes for a brief moment, until I can’t bear not looking at the screen, and I glance up at the screen above me.

  I wait.

  She pushes a little harder and I can’t see anything. It’s cloudy, almost. I wait some more, patiently, catching my lip between my teeth. How small is this little baby? Does it usually take this long to see it? Swallowing, I look at the lady’s face. There’s a slight wrinkle between her manicured brows. She’s focusing hard on the screen and every now and again, she’ll freeze it and take photos.

  Jackson drags his thumb over the back of my hand and it stirs panic in my chest, but it’s okay, right? Of course, it is. This is normal. I mean, the woman hasn’t said anything. Wouldn’t she tell me if there’s something wrong?

  Ten minutes pass and still nothing. I blink rapidly to hold back the tears. Still, she hasn’t confirmed if everything is okay or not. In my chest, my heart beats like it never has before and suddenly all I want is to do my pants back up and leave. I want to pretend like I never even came here.

  “Okay,” the woman says after an eternity of silence. With a gentle, sad smile, she hands me a towel. “I’ll be right back.”

  Without adjusting the ruffle in the bottom of her shirt near the hem of her purple uniform, she rushes from the room. I press the towel to my belly. My lungs don’t feel big enough, all of a sudden.

  “Here,” Jackson utters, taking it from my hand. “I’ll do it.”

  He gently rubs at my belly, cleaning off the gel. We don’t speak besides that. I think we both know what’s coming. When he’s done, I sit up and button my pants. I
manage to get my shirt over my belly as the woman reenters the room, another sheet in her hand.

  She closes the door behind her.

  “Selena, darling…”

  My chest tightens unbearably and I bite my tongue to stop tears from welling in my eyes as a wave of anguish threatens to hit me. I can’t cry, right? She hasn’t even given me the bad news. Assuming it’s bad news, I can’t cry over something that wasn’t there in the first place. It makes no sense.

  “I couldn’t see anything,” she admits, her thin lips turning down at the corners.

  I nod, trying so damn hard to keep my composure, to treat this like any other medical check-up, but if I don’t leave soon, I’m going to implode.

  “I have to recommend that you go back and see your doctor.”

  I nod again, more vigorously. “Okay.”

  Tears flood the rims of the lady’s eyes and they turn red, but she does an amazing job at holding them back. Jackson’s warm hands touch me. He rubs my back and caresses my shoulders as he asks the lady what’s wrong. I don’t hear much. My blurry stare is focused on the carpet and I can’t lift it. She mentions that she can’t really say, and that the next step would be to speak to my doctor, who would be better suited to have this conversation.

  Choked sobs rack my chest as the tears finally pour over the brim of my eyes. I don’t try to stop them. I can’t. The sonographer gestures toward the toilet and I rush to it, in shock, fear, pain, and embarrassment. In the bathroom, I rest against the cold door and cover my mouth. I’ve never been a loud crier, and in this moment, I want to be silent more than anything, but I can’t. A hiccup in my chest has me gasping for air.

  I use the toilet and cry into a handful of toilet paper. When the tears stop flowing and my makeup is pretty much ruined, I straighten myself up and exit the room. Jackson waits on the edge of the bed, holding my clutch in his hands. The poor woman who delivered the news is nowhere to be seen. Not that I mind. I’d rather not deal with her.

  “Can we go?” I ask, swiping at my face.

  He nods and stands up.

  “Selena…” Our stares lock. Jackson isn’t an emotional man. At least, not in my opinion, but his watery eyes perfectly reflect how hurt he is…how hurt I never, ever wanted to make him.

  “We’ll get through this, yeah?”

  I reach out and grab his shirt in my hands. Stepping forward, I bury my face into the fabric and cry against his hard chest. The tears flow with ease, like I didn’t just cry a literal river in the bathroom already.

  Jackson holds me close, comforting me without saying a word. He does the whole way to my doctor’s office. Thankfully, he was more than happy to make time in his schedule to see me.

  I don’t know how this day got so fucked up. I just don’t.

  Chapter Ten

  Jackson

  This morning I was the happiest I’d ever been in my life, and now? I’ve never been so devastated. It’s hard to see her like this. It’s like the color in her eyes has faded. I didn’t realize how badly she wanted us to have a baby…until the ultrasound didn’t show one. Not long ago, Selena was anti-children. Even Chloe was too much for her to handle. Funny how things change.

  I’ll admit, the results are disheartening, but my top priority is making sure Selena is okay and healthy. Where do we go from here? What do we need to do? How can I help?

  I hold Selena’s trembling hand as she bounces her leg. The doctor reads over the report again and again before turning his attention to us. There’s a sad tilt to his lips as he looks at me.

  “You’re the partner?”

  I nod. “Yes.”

  “I’m sorry to be the bearer of such unfortunate news, but this pregnancy is not viable.”

  I shift on my seat. You’ve got to be kidding me. “Yeah, we got that impression when they couldn’t find our baby on the scan. What I want to know is why? How can you be so sure?” I demand, catching Selena lowering her head out of the corner of my eye.

  She sobs and I stroke the back of her hand with my thumb. I don’t mean to upset her, but I want answers. I want to know why it’s not viable. What if they made a mistake? What if they’re wrong? It happens.

  “What I’m diagnosing Selena with, as a result of all of the tests I did, is a molar pregnancy.” He reaches for a pen and a scrap of paper before placing the white sheet in front of me. With his left hand, he draws an oddly shaped circle. “This is the uterus,” he points out, adding other bits and pieces to his shitty little art project. “These are the ovaries, tubes, etcetera. Now, a molar pregnancy is formed when an egg with no genetic information is fertilized by a sperm. Unfortunately, it doesn’t develop into a fetus, but continues to grow as a lump of abnormal tissue that resembles a cluster of grapes.” He draws it onto his diagram. “It expands at a quick rate, and comes with all of the usual pregnancy symptoms, plus others.” He turns his sympathetic brown eyes on Selena, who can’t bring herself to look at him. “Like the on and off spotting you’re experiencing. With risk to my own career here, I’m telling you with one hundred percent certainty that Selena is suffering a molar pregnancy.”

  I clench my jaw as acceptance settles in. If there’s one thing fighting taught me, it’s that you can always trust a man who is willing to put his entire career on the line.

  “So, what’s the next step?” I ask, wanting to get Selena through this and on the road to healing as quickly as possible.

  I know she’s torturing herself—with thoughts of me, undoubtedly—and I don’t know how to let her know that these things happen, and I am okay, and she is okay, and we’re going to get through this…as a family.

  “It’s straight to the emergency room from here, I’m sorry to say.” From his drawer, he plucks out an envelope. “This will get you through the fray of the emergency room fairly quickly. There, they’ll take care of it.”

  “Take care of it?” Selena asks, her voice thick with emotion.

  She lifts her head, her beautiful eyes glistening. I swallow hard. The look of her, the quiver in her voice, and the tremble of her fingers, tugs at my heart strings. She doesn’t want to let go.

  “It’s important that you understand there is no baby, Selena. There never was a baby. You’re sick, and we need to get you better.”

  “Are they going to…” She slaps her hand over her mouth to suppress a sob.

  “They’ll terminate the growth with a simple procedure. You’ll be under general anesthetic. You won’t feel a thing.”

  “Just like that?” she utters. “It’s over?”

  Her doctor tilts his head on angle, his eyes soft around the edges, the corners of his lips down turned.

  “It’s over.”

  Selena

  For the second time today, I’m tucked under Jackson’s arm and ushered out of the door after he insists on paying for the appointment.

  I no longer feel pregnant. Funny that. I feel heavy, like there’s a sickness in me that grows larger by the second. Some…sick disease has hijacked my body and tricked me into thinking what I had was real. A single tear rolls down my cheek. I wanted it.

  I wanted it so bad.

  The plan now is to go home, pack an overnight bag, and head to the emergency room. Oh, how my plans have changed. Originally, after the scan, I wanted to take Jackson out for milkshakes, and then maybe walk around the shops to pick out a cute baby blanket or a pair of booties. It’s stupid, I know, especially considering miscarriages can happen out of the blue. I just wanted to put today in concrete. I wanted it to be immortalized in my mind forever.

  In a way, I guess it will, but not for the reasons it should.

  I’m not going to be a mother any time soon…and it sucks. What’s worse is the fact that I told Jackson he was going to be a father and then I ripped it out from underneath him, like Amelia did. Perhaps I’m not so different after all.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” he says as he opens the door to his truck. I climb in and sit. “And you shouldn’t be.”

/>   “How can I not?”

  “It’s not the same thing, Selena. You’re not her.” He tugs on my seatbelt and reaches across my thighs to clip it in. “I need to call Seth and let him know I won’t be showing up to our last session tomorrow. Do you mind if I let him know what’s going on?”

  I shake my head. I’d rather Olivia hear it through Seth than me. I can’t talk about it. I’m not ready. Jackson closes the door and turns his back to me. In the silence, I cry a little more. The tears drop into my palms and roll down my wrists. I don’t think I’m ever going to be able to stop crying—which is ridiculous. I feel so silly for acting this way. Grieving something that didn’t exist in the first place?

  I watch as Jackson paces back and forth in front of the car, talking to Seth. There’s disappointment on his handsome face, a little anger too, and then he’s done. He slips his phone into his front pocket and joins me in the car.

  “Seth said Olivia will want to come see you at the hospital, but I told him no.” He glances sideways at me. “Unless you want her company?”

  I shake my head. “No. I don’t want any company.”

  I’m not even sure I want his company, and I mean that in the nicest way possible. I want to cry alone, without feeling like I’m overreacting. Or is that an overreaction?

  Jackson drives away from the doctor’s office and toward my place. I glance out the window the whole time, watching the world zip by without really seeing it. When we get home, after taking off my heels, I sit on the edge of my bed while he walks around my room, packing things into a backpack on my behalf. Shirts, pants, a dress just in case, and a pair of runners. At one point, I hear him curse from the bathroom as he flicks through my makeup drawers.

  “Don’t worry about it,” I call out. “I won’t wear makeup.”

  He steps out of the bathroom, zipping up the full backpack in his hand, and a small smile on his lips. “That makes things a lot easier.”

  I look at him and his smile falters, falling into a sad expression I don’t like. It tears at my fucking heart.