I know I’m being a bitch to everyone, especially Brian, but I don’t know how else to cope. I just want everyone to go away and leave me to grieve on my own. I don’t need them meddling and trying to do shit for me. I just need to be left alone.

When I woke up yesterday, I just knew something was wrong. It didn’t take me long to see the blood, and I knew instantly what was happening. I called my mom first, knowing I needed to go to the hospital. I cringed at the thought of going to the ER, and being seen by one of the doctors I work with, but it was my only option.

When I told my mom what was going on, she, of course, was sympathetic and heartbroken for me. I still hadn’t told her about the baby, so it was a double shock. She kept pressuring me to call Brian, saying he needed to know. I just didn’t know how to tell him. I figured he’d be pissed at me; my body failing and all that. I know, deep down, there isn’t anything you can do to avoid a miscarriage, but it still fucking hurts and the guilt is there.

I’ve done my best to keep everyone locked out. I was weak for a little while after Brian showed up on my doorstep, and I allowed him to hold me while the emotions overtook my body. Crying with him holding me like that made me feel so loved and cherished. But I don’t deserve that from him. Not after what my body has done, how I’ve crushed him with the loss of our child. I have to push him away. There is no way he will ever forgive me for losing our baby, and that kind of resentment will just create a rift between us, eventually tearing us apart. I would rather push him away now, while I’m already miserable, rather than later down the road.

With my mind made up, I just have to figure out how to get him to leave. I know he can be stubborn, and trying to convince him to go back and join his team isn’t going to be easy. I’ll sleep on my decision, and come up with a plan tomorrow, to get him to leave once and for all.

I wake up feeling so protected. Strong arms are around me, a warm body against my back, and I know it’s him. The calm that I wake feeling isn’t welcomed, though. I don’t deserve to feel this way. I deserve to feel the pain and heartache that comes with losing a baby. But, I give in and remain in Brian’s arms for a while longer, second-guessing myself and what I have planned to do today. As I lie there in the comfort and security of his touch, my mind is conflicted, going back and forth between pushing him out of my life and taking what he’s offering, using him as my sounding board, my protector, my everything.

The tears come again, almost hitting me like a semi-trailer truck slamming a brick wall. I can’t control them, nor the emotion that floods my body, hit so hard by the wave of grief that I start convulsing. I don’t realize Brian has woken up and is talking me through my panic attack, running his fingers through my hair and rubbing my back, all in an attempt to help calm me down. As soon as I notice what he’s doing, I practically jump from his embrace and run for the bathroom, locking the door behind me.

You don’t deserve him, the devil on my shoulder keeps whispering in my ear.

I take a look at myself in the mirror, not even recognizing the reflection staring back at me. My face is so swollen from the amount of crying I’ve done the past couple of days. My hair is a huge rat’s nest, my clothes are baggy and covered with tears and snot. I’m an absolute basket case.

I strip my clothes and start the shower, turning the water as hot as I can possibly stand it. The scalding water loosens my sore muscles and relaxes my body. Before the water turns cold, I at least get my hair washed, but otherwise, I just stand in the water, crying, feeling so lost.

Leaving the bathroom, I find a clean pair of sweats and a sweatshirt to put on. I can hear Brian moving about my kitchen, and from the smells of things, he’s cooking breakfast. After pulling my hair up into a knot on the top of my head, I finally exit the bedroom. I stop at the end of the hall, and he looks up at me with a sad smile on his face.

“Feel better, sweetheart?”

“Yes.”

“Are you hungry? I made enough for the both of us.”

“Not really,” I lie, not wanting to accept his help, even if I really am starving.

“How about just some toast?” he asks, as my stomach growls loudly. I know he’s heard it by the way his left eyebrow raises in a questioning manner.

“Fine, but I can get it myself,” I snap at him.

“Okay,” he says, a little sadly.

I walk into the kitchen and pop some bread into the toaster, then turn and lean against the counter so I’m facing him.

“How long are you staying? Don’t you need to get back for the playoffs?”

“I’m staying as long as you need me. The team can live without me for a few games.”

“I think you should go back and do your job,” I reply, the snarky tone in my voice evident.

Brian levels his gaze on me, staring me down, which I break when my toast pops up. I turn, pulling it out and buttering it quickly before I escape the kitchen.

He finishes making his food, and comes into the living room. I notice his hesitation as he decides whether he should sit right next to me or give me some space. He chooses wisely, as he takes a seat on the chair across from me. He’s quiet as he takes a few bites before speaking up.

“Is that what you really want, Kinley? You want me to go?”

I let his questions settle between us. Am I really going to push him away? Will he really let go this easily? And if he does, does that mean we really didn’t have the connection I thought we did?

“Yes,” I finally get out.

“Why?” He levels his eyes on me again.

“Because, I need to be alone. You need to go and just forget about me.”

“Look at me, Kinley,” he says sternly, hurt lacing his voice. “I will leave, if that’s what you really want, and need, right now, even if I do think it’s the worst fucking idea ever. But don’t you think, for one minute, that I will ever forget about you. I’ll give you space, but don’t think this is over between us. I love you and I will fight for you, for us. I will come back for you, I can promise you that.”

* * *

Brian did as he said, and got himself a flight back to Indy that leaves this evening. It’s for the best. I need to learn to live without him. He’ll realize soon enough that I wasn’t what he wanted, and he can go back to his playboy ways. I just have to get through the next few hours with him, and then I can shut the door on the past ten months of my life.

Now that I’ve successfully executed pushing him out, though, and the moment he’s leaving is imminent, all I want is him surrounding me, protecting me, and holding me up. I don’t hesitate when he pulls me into his arms on the couch, where we remain all afternoon. I know I shouldn’t give in, but it’s all my body craves now. The calmness that I feel while in his embrace has me second-guessing myself all afternoon, and doubt starts to crawl in as the minutes tick by.

Brian orders an Uber when it’s time for him to leave for the airport. He didn’t bring much with him, so it didn’t take him but a couple minutes to pack.

Brian stands from the couch and pulls me into his arms, holding me tight to his body.

“I love you, Kinley. Nothing is going to change that. Please don’t push me away. We can get through this, baby,” he says to the top of my head, then places a kiss against it. He leans back, bringing his forehead to mine. Hurt and worry laces his gaze, and I inwardly cringe, knowing I put that there.

His phone buzzes, letting him know his driver has arrived.

He cups my cheek and lowers his lips to mine, placing one final kiss against them.

“I’ll let you know when I’ve made it home. Please, at least text me to tell me how you’re doing.”

I don’t answer him as he grabs his bag and walks out the door, looking back at me as I close the door behind him, locking it. I feel as if the sound of that lock was more than just a simple movement. I lean against it, the grief washing over me again. I drop to the floor, the tears flowing erratically.

What have I just done?