“Here.” Arrick hands me the salad bowl around my mom’s table where everyone is eating, barely
looking me in the eye and avoids touching me when I slide the bowl out of his grip. I told him I didn’t
want anyone to know beyond Jake and Emma right now and I want to act normal and enjoy being
home for once. Just one normal afternoon before I single out my mother and talk to her. I know he’s
told Jake from the beginning; I mean I always knew he would. He tells him everything and Jake would
have told Emma, so even though I haven’t had a chance to talk to her yet, I can tell by her glances my
way that she knows.
We are playing polite and nice, idle chit chat with a table of mixed Carrero and Huntsbergers who all
appeared for food when they found out we were here. Arrick and I are masters of appearing
unemotional and fine; we are doing it to Oscar winning standards and no one seems to be any wiser to
the fact we are barely able to look at each other.
He’s not exactly happy with me right now, seeing as he tried to tell me to go to bed and rest and I
insisted I wanted to get back to normal. Another fight, another stupid argument, because I won’t do as I
am told, and he won’t back off from telling me what to do. The hostility is deafening while being cloaked
in happy and fine. Like we are incapable of being around one another now.
My body seems to be recovering crazy quick, not that I have a comparison, but already the bleeding is
so light it’s almost non-existent. I don’t know if that’s normal in less than twenty-four hours, but I can’t
face seeing a doctor, not yet anyway.
I’m sure my mom will check me over when I tell her anyway and give me some advice. She will put my
mind at ease or make me go to get checked out if she thinks it’s wrong, not that I do. Apart from the
bleeding slowing down I feel exactly as I did before.
I don’t feel any different. I don’t feel like I have stopped wanting to eat, or cry, or act like a crazy person
in all of this and I wonder how long it takes for my hormones to recover on top of everything else. I’m
sick of feeling this way. It’s so hard to push it away when my body is holding onto it.
“Thanks.” I take it without smiling and go back to pushing food into my mouth. Everyone is chatting
among themselves and occasionally I hear Arrick answer direct questions on Paris and our plans… I
zone out and try to not interact if I don’t have to. I need the head space.
I catch Emma watching me from the far side of the table and smile at her softly. I notice Jake seems to
be sending some sort of subliminal messages to his brother across the table too. I catch him frowning
at Arry, who is frowning back with some weird message. No one else seems to catch their little
incognito bro code and I try to act like I haven’t noticed and instead hone into what Leila is droning on
about.
“The plans are coming along, but now you are done with school I guess you are taking more of a front-
line part in it, seeing as it’s your own wedding.” Leila is staring at us both expectantly and as I was
blanked out, I have no clue what she has even been saying. Arry has a flicker of ‘what?’ on his face too
as we both smile at her so very fakely.
Shit.
“We have been so busy it’s not been our priority; we need a few days to get used to being back here
again.” Arrick recovers fast, that smooth part of him swooping in to make everything appear normal.
Arry seems tense and I wonder what going through his head as he sits and eats. He doesn’t look like a
guy who wants to hear about wedding plans right now and Jakes narrows his eyes at him. I have no
clue how to deflect my sister as she locks her gaze and homes in on me to the point I start to sweat.
“You know planning things like that is not my strong point.” I answer her, trying to sound normal, but it’s
hard to play like you are when faced with someone who can read you a little better than the average
person. Leila is like a sniffer dog at times and avoiding her is the best way to make sure she doesn’t
put two and two together.
“Sophie is better at the showing up looking pretty, rather than the helping getting it rolling.” Jake
interjects and smiles my way with a wink. I smile back with genuine warmth, relieved to have back up
among the many, even if it’s in a small way.
“It’s so exciting, to finally see our two babies getting hitched. I have waited for this day for two years
and finally get to unbox my hat.” Sylvana sounds excited and I try to smile harder for her sake, to look
like an excited bride, despite my lack of feeling. Arrick smiles at his mom too and I can see even from
this side angle he isn’t really smiling; he looks like he’s acting it out.
“My baby is growing up.” My mom is taking her turn to get tearful and this is doing nothing for my frame
of mind. I wish we had skipped the ritual family food and catch up and I had gone straight to her when
we got here. I wouldn’t be enduring this right now.
“Sure is, and soon will be settling down and giving us some grandbabies.” Sylvana beams at us
adoringly and I instantly feel sick, losing my appetite as I Arricks fork pauses midway to his mouth and
he tenses. That flicker of jaw that signals he’s reacting internally and using every ounce of will power to
not let them see it.
“Too early for babies yet, momma… Sophie has a career to get on track.” Leila cuts in and my salad
turns to sawdust in my mouth.
“Congrats on finishing your second year by the way.” Daniel leans forward at the other side of Arry and
throws me a smile, clearly oblivious to how excruciating this is.
“Yes, you should be really proud of yourself and what you have achieved so far.” Emma is smiling,
offering me a little assurance opposite me and I can almost feel her sending me hugs. Jake is staring at
his plate looking pensive and I guess he’s feeling for his brother right now. Arrick avoids looking at me
at all and it all gets a hundred times worse. I can feel the walls closing in on me as an age-old panic
attack starts to rise in the depths and I shift restlessly. I haven’t had one of these in so long and I need
air.
“I’m not feeling great… flight left me with a headache mom, I’m going to go lay down to try and sleep it
off.” I drop my fork with a clatter amid the hushed family chatter and avoid all the knowing eyes at the
table. Not that there are many, but Arricks are burning into me the most. Probably mentally wondering if
I am dying from loss related symptoms and mentally dialing 911.
Stop being a bitch, Sophie.
“Need me to come with you?” Arrick takes my hand as I stand up, but I twist it away before anyone
notices and move out of my seat away from him.
I can’t. Not yet.
“Nope… Enjoy your lunch. I need a nap… I’ll be fine.” I go to leave but Arrick gets up anyway, catches
me by the hand and pulls me back to kiss me. It’s awkward, rigid and I can feel that neither of us are
wanting this contact right this second, it’s all for show.
I don’t fight it, because everyone will wonder what the hell is going on and start asking questions and I
don’t want to embarrass him either. He kisses me on the temple, edging in close so he can talk quietly,
and my body is hit with a cold wave of tingles at the close proximity.
“I’ll be up soon. We can’t leave it like this.” He looks me in the eye, voice barely audible to anyone but
me but it sends shivers through my soul and I look away, unable to really take the pain I am seeing in
his. I give him a fake half smile before bolting out of reach and run for upstairs, away from him and us
and everything I cannot face.
***
The knock on Arricks old bedroom door is too soft to be him, besides, he would walk in, and as it slides
open, Emma walks in with a soft smile. She looks really pretty in a long floral dress that hugs her
curves before flaring out around her legs in a really elegant way. It’s strappy and she has a good tan for
the colder months, evidence of the family holiday Jake took them on a few weeks back. Her short wavy
hair has blonder highlights and she looks glowy and ethereal, like always. Emma and Jake are the
perfect example of a couple who have their shit together in all ways and I cannot help my envy in how
happy they always seem to be together.
I miss feeling that way with Arrick.
I’m lying on the bed staring into space, still in my dress, drained, as she walks in and sits herself down
on the bed beside me. I’ve only been up here around twenty minutes and expected Arry to come
following me before now. I guess he is giving me space and is as tired with how strained being in the
same room has become.
“No entourage?” I blink at her, looking past in case he’s looming behind her and see nothing.
“He’s with Jake, taking a walk… Brother time.” Emma answers my question and I sigh. Relieved that
he’s not here yet also strangely disappointed. I cannot get a handle on my emotions.
“I’m being a bitch to him, you can say it… I know it.” I sigh, knowing he doesn’t deserve any of this, but
I don’t know how else to be. I am in over my head in every way. I always dealt with things on my own
and never had to consider someone else suffering the same thing; it’s all new ground.
“I think your being Sophie in pain, that’s a whole different thing and you know it… How are you? How
are feeling? He said you never went to a hospital.”
“Please don’t. I run away from him when he starts with the inquisition, what makes you think I will want
it from you?” I sulk childishly, instantly defensive and Emma ignores it. She knows me better than most.
“I think you need a woman’s ear … Someone who isn’t directly broken about your loss, Sophie… Arrick
is making you feel suffocated and you are reacting the way you always react… Run and hide, wall goes
up and everyone gets pushed away.” She takes my hand as I turn to face her, still lying down and sigh
again.
“You got all that from dinner? Or from an insider source?” I sit up when she climbs up beside me and
we mirror the same position as I scramble to lean against the headboard. Emma fixes her dress over
her legs and exhales slowly.
“You know he talks to both of us when it comes to you two. I think Jake is Arry’s speed dial number in a
crisis and Jake is a fan of speakerphone, so I can input.” Emma gives a little quick smirk and I look
away across the room sadly. Arry’s room full of his old things and old pictures.
The room we used to hang out in and play video games for hours, watch movies or make plans to go
away. The room where we used to lay on the bed and talk about nothing and everything or meet when
we had plans. I spent as much time in here over the years as I did across the street in my own room,
and this is the place we first ever had sex and became something more to each other. It seems a
million years ago and hasn’t changed at all.
“I don’t know how to deal with him right now. I don’t know how to do anything except do what I am
doing.” I shrug desperately and wish this weird achy cloud that descended over me days ago would just
lift so I could see my way clear for five minutes.
“Pushing him away is hurting both of you. He needs you too, Sophie, maybe more than you need him
right now. You deal with things differently.”
“I never used to push him away, maybe that means we’re not working anymore.” I can’t help that little
tremor inside of me that feels a lot like guilt, heartbreak and despair, and shove it back down.
“You have never had to deal with something like this that affects you both equally… He was always
your rock and it was your pain; I don’t think you quite know how to handle him in pain and it’s making
you defensive. Arrick doesn’t know how to be what he has been for you when he’s consumed with his
own grief. You are both walking blind and making a mess of it.” Emma slides her hand loosely in mine
on the comforter and squeezes it gently.
“I was only pregnant for like five minutes; how can it make everything fall apart?” I get tearful, washing
waves of something sliding up me and I am suddenly so utterly tired. I’m emotionally exhausted and
this is all t so tiring.
“He’s a Carrero, they are notoriously bad for insta-love …Whereas you and I, we take a little longer to
let it sink in and become real. It doesn’t mean that we don’t immediately feel something inside…We
hide it from ourselves and let all the fear consume us.” She hits the nail on the head with that one. I
know that the weeks leading to this were all shrouded in fear about what I was going to do.
“Is this my fault? … Because I didn’t want to be pregnant.” I say it out loud, a tremor in my voice and
she grips my hand again.
“It’s no one’s fault, Sophie. Nature has a lot to answer for and there were a million possible reasons it
didn’t progress. This was not your fault. Nothing you did made this happen.”
“Arry blames me too. I know he does. I wouldn’t expect him not to.” I croak as a part of me starts to
warm with emotion.
“You know that’s definitely not true… The sun and moon rise in you, when it comes to him, Sophie. You
are the last person in the world Arry would ever blame for anything. In fact, right now knowing him, he’s
beating himself up for the fact he wasn’t with you and tormenting himself stupid that he caused this. He
told me he left you in anger and I know he keeps questioning the importance of that.”
That thought makes me even more nauseous that he thinks he upset me enough to make this happen
and blames himself. I know how he is about walking away from me during a fight and yet he did it
anyway. I know how much that inner conscience of his must be obsessing over that tiny detail and I
hate that. Another level of guilt to my heavy-hearted soul
“Why is life so fucking hard?” I burst out in frustration, shoving softer emotions back into my pits of hell.
“Anytime it feels like something goes right, something comes at me to tear it all down again. I don’t
know which way is up and it’s like I no longer care. I don’t feel how I should.” I’m so agitated with this
rollercoaster inside of me.
Emma has always been a safe space to be honest, about everything, and right now, she is my Arry,
because he can’t be what I need.
“How do you feel?” Emma probes gently, that soft tone she uses when she is trying to talk me through
life. Councilor Emma to the rescue.
“I don’t know, empty… Numb, sort of… Sad, I guess, but not like heartbroken devastation like when
Arry and I fall out. I thought I would feel more than this by now. I look at him, and his pain is there on
full display and soul destroying, while here I am, like this. Like something in me is switched off.
Shouldn’t I be sobbing or acting like we lost our baby?”
Saying those words bite at me and I inhale slowly to soothe the way it tastes. I am not fully numb, but
it’s there, cutting off a lot off what lingers behind, so it doesn’t touch me. Like a million times in my
childhood when I thought I was living through the worst hell of my life. It amazes me how many different
types of hell one person can endure.
“I don’t think that sounds to me like you don’t care. It sounds a lot like you are in the first stages of
grief… Numb and empty are classic shock symptoms. When it comes to death, they can last a while,
with some, the more intense your devastation it seems the stronger the numbness hits you. I think you
maybe feel a lot more than you realize and you’re dealing with it differently to him. It’s normal.”
“Or maybe I’m a heartless bitch who didn’t want a baby.” I throw my head back against the padded
leather headboard and stare at the ceiling in despair. Frustrated with my own mind and heart. Biting the
words bitterly even though I know they do not ring true. We sit quietly for a moment and then Emma
squeezes my hand, pulls it up and turns to me purposefully.
“If you could undo it, and be pregnant still, right now… Would you? Don’t think, just answer.” She
nudges me gently and I impulsively nod. Not even giving myself a moment to think about the question.
I don’t doubt it. I begged it to stay with me on that bathroom floor when I knew it was leaving me.
“You’re in shock, Sophie… Grieving and feeling overwrought with lingering hormones. You need some
time to rest and digest. Physically you may be recovering, but emotionally, that takes a little time. You
maybe didn’t think you wanted the baby, but you would have gotten used to it in time and I don’t doubt
that somewhere deep down you started caring about it before you could really digest it.”
I sigh heavily, willing this weight to do one. I am so fed up with this eternal heaviness.
“Counsellor Emma knows best, right?” I frown at her. I don’t mean it sarcastically; I feel like none of this
makes any difference. None of it helps. It doesn’t change where we are at.
It doesn’t bring her back.
“Stop punishing him… Even if that’s not what you’re doing, it feels that way to him. Let him in, you
know you can and have done a million times before. Stop pushing, stop hurting him because you are
punishing yourself.” Emma draws me back in and I exhale.
“I’m not punishing myself?” I blink at her, unsure what to think and she lifts her hand to brush the hair
from my face. A gentle nothing moment of tenderness that brings Arry to the forefront of my mind and
how often he does this exact thing. It hurts, more than it should and I blink away tears.
“I think in a roundabout way you could be. Pushing him away because he’s the one thing in the world
that you need, and you don’t feel like you deserve it. Address the issues, Sophie. Not the fallout.”
“I don’t know how. It’s just… I need space and time. I need to get my head straight on all of this. I’m so
confused and you’re making me more so.”
I never evaluated the fact that I am pushing him because of my guilt and my feeling of unworthiness,
but she makes sense. I wanted him home and soon as he was by my side I didn’t. I blame it on his
pain, knowing it’s partly that, but she has a point. I did this to us; I don’t deserve his love and I don’t
want him to console me. I deserve to suffer.
Why am I so fucked up in the head sometimes?
“Then talk to him about it and tell him that, don’t cut him off and hurt him more. He has no clue what’s
going on in your head and no one knows you like he does. Whatever has gone on in the last months,
you know at the root of it all he still adores you and would do anything for you.” She strokes a hand
over mine and I interlace fingers with her snugly, needing to feel less alone in this.
“I’m not ready. I need time.” If it were as simple case of opening up to him then I would have gotten
there already. Arry is a talker, he likes to talk it out. He tried to make me talk and I didn’t want to. It all
comes down to me needing space and time to process all of it.
I sit up on the bed and stare at the pictures of him, opposite me on the board. Looking handsome and
young with his arm around me at some beach somewhere, both smiling and genuinely looking like a
couple in love, even though I’m sure I was only 16 at the time. It’s kind of sweet that the majority of the
pictures up there are of me and him, or groups of his friends with us always together in the middle. Arry
admitted he always loved me, but it’s when I see little glimpse of reminders like this that it hits home.
I don’t deserve him, or all he does for me.
“Time is fine, as long as you don’t make it so long that he drifts away, Sophie. Trust me. I know the
breaking point of a Carrero man if you keep them at arm’s length for long enough.”
Emma’s words wind me as I try to digest a future with no Arry, and the thought is abhorrent to me.
“I still want to marry him… I still love him as much. I just need to breathe a little and get some
perspective on everything. I don’t want to lose him.” Panic grips me tight, building up the nausea which
is becoming my constant bed fellow and my blood runs cold.
“Then tell him that; stop shutting the door on him and be honest about your needs in a gentle way. It
doesn’t have to be so black and white. So self-defensive and aggressively done. You are the queen of
hostile when you are protecting yourself, you can’t help it. Arry is probably the most understanding guy
on the planet when it comes to you, but even he has a breaking point and right now, he’s not himself
either. He’s struggling. He isn’t capable of dealing with you like this when the pain affects him too.”
“He won’t listen, you know what he’s like when he’s in care mode…Overprotective and pig headed and
won’t sway to what I need, over what he thinks I need. It’s hard to be patient with him when he
steamrollers over me. He takes everything I say and interprets it how he wants.”
I know that’s not exactly fair anymore, over the past two years Arrick has relaxed a little, gotten comfier
in our dynamic and he is nowhere near as bad as he was in the beginning of life in love. He has
mellowed and tends to listen sometimes. Just not when it comes to shit like this. He can still drive me
crazy at times.
“You rule that boy’s heart, Sophie… The only person he ever does listen to, is you. Occasionally Jake,
but usually not so much. You have so much power over him and that’s not always a good thing. He and
Jake are stubborn and overbearing at times, but it comes from loving us to death. Don’t hate him for his
natural instinct to take care of you, protect you. You wouldn’t love him if he was any other way, it’s that
unyielding devotion and care that made you trust him to start with.”
I rub my face in agitation knowing she is totally right. Arry won me over with undying persistence and
gentle handling. He broke through when no one else could and he worked his way into my secret inner
space with that passionate pure soul of a guy who really does have a solid heart of gold. He made me
trust him and he made me feel safe. When everything else was terrifying and cruel, Arry made me see
the light at the end of the tunnel and held my hand to get me there. His patience and calmness are
what gave him the ability to keep trying with me.
I owe him so much.
“I don’t know what I need … Arry aside, I don’t know how to act or how to be. So how can I tell him
what I need when I don’t know? How can I be what he needs? It’s all coming at me so fast and my
head’s still spinning around.”
It all tumbles out in a whoosh of chaos and I slump forward, pulling my knees up to prop my arms and
flop my head down dejectedly.
“You need space and time, yes, just try to tell him in a way that won’t wound his heart more than it is,
Sophie. Be delicate with him. Arry isn’t always as solid as you think he is… The rest will follow. Be
honest with him and stop pushing. Space is not too much to ask for when you are both on the same
page.”
Maybe I need a few days to be here without him. Alone with family while I recover and heal. Sometime
apart but knowing he’s only an hour away if I need him. I think we both could use some breathing
space to get some perspective and a break from the constant fighting.
I am so done with all of this and want to hibernate and be left alone for a little
while.
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