Joan
I had no idea how much time had passed, but when I opened my eyes, someone was sitting next to me.
Shoulders hunched, head bowed, my hand in his-and he was bloody. Damn bloody, all over.
I swallowed hard, my throat dry and parched.
“Aaron,” I whispered, and his eyes snapped up to meet mine almost immediately. They were bloodshot.
I didn’t need anyone to tell me why. My own eyes itched and burned as I pressed my lips together to hide the tremble.
“We lost the baby, didn’t we?” I asked quietly, as a tear slipped from the corner of my eye. I stared up at the ceiling.
“It’s my fault. It’s all my fault. If I’d maybe listened to you and-”
“It’s not your fault,” he cut in. His voice sounded cold, detached-very unlike Aaron. In the four years I’ve known him, he’s never sounded this… broken. I don’t know.
I glanced at him. His jaw was clenched tight.
My eyes traveled down his body where he sat.
His shirt was soaked in blood. How badly had they hurt him? Why wasn’t he being treated?
“The… the bullet. Did you get shot again?” I asked.
He held my stare for a long second before slowly dropping his gaze and shaking his head.
I pressed my lips together.
“Then how did you get so bloody?” I asked softly, and a long sigh escaped him.
“I snuffed the life out of them. Every last one,” he said, voice low, before his dark eyes met mine again. “I’m a murderer, and I don’t regret it. They fucking killed my child, and I almost lost you too.”
His voice broke, and I clapped my free hand over my mouth to stifle the sob escaping my throat.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry-”
“Stop,” he growled, and I clamped my mouth shut immediately. His eyes softened a fraction before hardening again.
“Do you see me any differently now? Knowing I’ve killed?” he asked.
I dropped my hand from my mouth.
“Do you want the truth?” I asked.
He was silent, just stared at me for a second before dropping my hand. I felt the loss of his touch immediately.
He nodded. “Yeah, I want the truth.”
“I still love you, Aaron. Nothing could change that,” I murmured, and his eyes glistened as his Adam’s apple bobbed.
“But don’t you feel even a little resentment toward me? Don’t you blame me, even a little? Do you still look at me the same way?” I shut my eyes tightly as tears spilled out. “I couldn’t even protect our child. We lost our baby, Aaron. And… and it hurts so much right here.” I placed a hand on my chest, unwilling to open my eyes.
I didn’t want to see resentment on his face.
“I can’t even imagine how you feel. But… I’m so sorry.” A sob escaped me, and my lips quivered.
The room fell into that kind of silence that warns something big is coming. Something heavy.
“Have I ever given you the impression that I’d stop loving you, especially in times like now?” he asked.
I kept my eyes shut.
“Blame you?” He huffed. “You did your best. You got to the hospital and tried to save our baby. It’s not your fault. It never will be.”
He remained silent for a couple of seconds.
“Do you need space to process all this? Your father was killed right in front of you and our baby…” He trailed off.
Warm tears slipped into my mouth, tasting salty… painfully salty.
I hadn’t answered yet when I heard the door open. Brisk footsteps, followed by softer ones, entered the room.
“Jo?” It was a voice I’d recognize even in my dreams. I opened my eyes to meet Rhoda’s teary brown ones. The doctor stood beside her.
She clasped her hands over her mouth before rushing toward the bed. I sat up as she engulfed me in a hug, both of us crying. She rubbed my hair while I sniffled.
Aaron pushed his chair back and stood up to talk to the doctor.
“Is this a good time?” the doctor asked, glancing between me and Rhoda.
Aaron followed his gaze, and our eyes met.
I looked away first. He nodded at the doctor, who straightened his shoulders.
“We ran a second scan after the initial one when she was rushed in,” he said, and my grip on Rhoda tightened.
My baby was barely two months, yet the pain of loss already consumed me. How does a mother give up her child and continue as if nothing happened?
Luna didn’t love me enough to keep me, huh?
“We found something,” the doctor said. Rhoda pulled away slightly, settling beside me with one arm around my shoulders as we both focused on him.
The doctor handed the scan results to Aaron, who stared at them blankly.
“What’s in here? I’m sorry, but I don’t understand any of it,” Aaron said quietly. The doctor nodded and gave a small, understanding smile.
“The first scan showed the baby was gone, but in the second, the baby is still right there,” he said.
I sat up straighter.
What?
“So, there’s a possibility you were having twins and lost one. Or the baby hid itself. The former is medically possible,” the doctor said, and Aaron turned to look at me.
“We were supposed to have two babies?” I whispered.
The doctor shrugged. “I don’t know for sure. You didn’t have an earlier ultrasound?”
I shook my head. Aaron and I were taking things slow. We’d planned to wait until after the first trimester.
“Well, for now, let’s just say there was a little bleeding, but the baby is still hanging on,” the doctor offered a small smile.
“You’ll need to be extra careful. The baby seems pretty attached to its mother,” he added with a chuckle, before quickly sobering.
“We’ll keep you here for a few more days for observation before you can go home. Sound good?” he asked.
Aaron and I nodded at the same time.
I placed my hands on my stomach. It stayed.
Relief flooded me-but grief lingered too.
I knew I’d lost a baby. The ache in my chest wasn’t for nothing. I’d lost one child, while another stayed.
It was bittersweet, but I was grateful for the one who held on.
Aaron made them pay. And I couldn’t love him any less for that.
I glanced at him as he listened carefully to the doctor.
God, I loved him. And he had no idea how much.