Chapter Twenty-Three
Lauren
“YOU LOOK EXHAUSTED,” Julia says as we go into work Monday morning. “Did the shower yesterday wipe you out?”
I force a smile. “Something like that.” Really, I was up all night crying. My heart is broken. It’s only been about twelve hours since I last saw Noah’s gorgeous face, and I miss him so much. So, so fucking much. Hell, I missed him this much only seconds after he walked out the door. It’s not the length of time passing between us, it’s knowing that this is how it’s going to be.
Me. A single mom. A working mom. Trying to figure it all out on my own. I’m not the first to do it, and I certainly won’t be the last. But that doesn’t make me feel any better. And right now I’m not sure I can do it. I’m not sure I can provide everything for Ella.
And really, that’s what matters.
My broken heart can heal. I can learn to sleep alone again. But Ella … I can’t even think of her wanting, of her needing something I can’t get her without crying.
I start the day, blaming being the exhaustion on the pregnancy. The lie is bought with no question. The clock moves so slowly sometimes I swear it’s going backwards. But I keep pushing, because that’s all I can do. The current is against me, but I won’t drown.
I can’t drown. I won’t drown. Because I have Ella.
“Lauren,” Dr. Banfield calls when I walk past her office after going to the bathroom for the millionth time that day. “Any news from Purdue? I know letters are going out around this time.”
The words are like a slap to the face and I can’t help the tears that spring to my eyes.
“Oh, I’m so sorry.” Dr. Banfield gets up from her desk. She’s an older woman with her eyes set on retirement. All her employees love her. “I honestly assumed you’d get in. You’re so smart and such a hard worker.”
“I did get in,” I squeak out.
Dr. Banfield raises an eyebrow. “So are those tears of joy?”
My head falls and emotions take over, turning me into The Incredibly Pregnant Hulk. “I got in but can’t go because I got drunk and slept with my brother’s best friend and got pregnant and now he’s gone and I’ll be alone forever.” I have no control over myself at that point. I break down in tears.
Dr. Banfield is a wise, older woman, but she’s not emotional by any means. Reserved at all times, she awkwardly hugs me then calls Julia in into the office.
“Honey, what’s wrong?” Julia asks, wrapping me in an embrace. I hiccup and sniff back my tears.
“I got into vet school and can’t go because of Ella,” I say through tears.
“Oh, honey.” Julia gives me another hug, then the three of us sit around Dr. Banfield’s desk. Julia gives me a tissue.
“I went to school during a completely different time,” Dr. Banfield starts, trying to console me. “But there were parents in there with me. It’s possible.”
“Thanks,” I say and wipe my eyes. Parents are different. Parents are plural.
“What about Noah? Can’t he help?” Julia asks and suddenly I’m embarrassed. No, Noah can’t help because he’s not ready to be a dad, nor does he want to be. He made it quite clear when he missed our baby shower.
“Maybe,” I mumble. “Purdue is hours away. I just don’t see how it’ll work.”
“There’s always next year,” Julia offers. “You got in once, you could get in again.”
I nod. “I could.”
“And don’t rule out other schools,” Dr. Banfield adds. “You know I’m a fan of MSU.” She points to her degree on the wall. “And that’s a lot closer.”
I nod again. Talking it out makes things seem so easy. My heart needs to believe it is that easy, because it can’t take any more pain. It’s beating for two right now. I have to protect it.
But it’s not that easy. Ella will be older, but I’ll still have to find a way to pay for daycare and then find someone to help me in the evenings so I could study and do homework. Paying for daycare on my salary right now is damn near impossible; there is no way I could pay for daycare and school. Oh, and still squeeze in time to work. Because I’ll have to pay for shit somehow.
I smile, tell my boss and my friend thank you regardless. Nobody likes a wallower, so I’ll wallow in sorrow at home by myself. Because there really is no way for me to go to vet school.
I’ve been told that the best laid plans sometimes fail, but I think it goes farther than that. The more you plan, the more you try to get things just right, the more off course you go. And then the clear path you were counting on disappears beneath your feet and suddenly you’re alone in the forest, unable to see a way out.
*
I get home from work Tuesday exhausted, sore, and sad. The temperature has dropped, and gray clouds have moved across the October sky. Not feeling like making dinner, I get a bowl of ice cream, a big glass of lemonade, and plop on the couch, crying as I eat.
I miss Noah. I want him back. I want Ella to grow up with her father, and I want her father to be good. You can’t have your cake and eat it too, right?
Life doesn’t work that way.
Instead of watching one of my cherished Disney movies, I search Netflix for something more violent. Because right now I’m feeling like the fairytale endings are even more unrealistic than wild animals cleaning the house.
My phone rings, and my heart jumps. Noah has called more than once, and I’ve watched his calls go to voicemail each time. I’m not strong enough to talk to him, not yet. If I hear his voice I’ll cave. And I can’t. I have to be strong for Ella.
“Hello,” I say to my mother, more disappointed than relieved it wasn’t Noah calling.
“Hey, honey. I didn’t hear from you yesterday. How are you feeling?”
I open my mouth, wanting to tell my mom everything. She’ll come over and I’ll have a good cry session, and when she’s leaves I’ll feel better, even if it’s just for the night. “I’m fine,” I lie before I have time to think about it. Maybe I’m not ready to face the fact that Noah really isn’t coming back into my life the way I want him to. Saying it out loud makes it more real. “Just tired from work.”
“Have you thought about cutting down on your hours yet?”
“Uh…” Yeah. I had. And was going to, back when I thought I could count on Noah for financial support. I’m sure glad I dodged that bullet, even though it feels like it hit me. Right in the heart. “Yeah, I will soon. Everyone at work babies me.” I consider telling her about vet school too, but chose not to solely because I’m too tired to bring up those emotions. Again.
I chat with my mom for a few more minutes, hating lying to her the whole time. I end up falling asleep on the couch and wake up stiff. A hot shower helps loosen my muscles, then I’m off to work again. We’re busy with surgeries and two walk-in emergencies Wednesday, and the day actually goes by pretty fast, thankfully. I’m limited in what I can do now, which often leads to boredom, and boredom leads to my mind wondering.
I take the dogs to the dog park after work, leaving them there while I go grocery shopping. I keep myself busy and distracted enough that I don’t feel like I’m dying from a broken heart.
I go to bed early, hoping I can sleep away some of the pain, but I’m woken by my phone ringing at eleven PM.
It’s Colin.
What the fuck? He rarely calls, let alone this late. My hand shakes when I pick up the phone, scared something happened to my family.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Lauren. Are you at home?”
“Yes, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he says and hesitates.
“Then why did you call and wake me up.”
He inhales but doesn’t speak.
“Colin!” I exclaim. If nothing is wrong, then I’m pissed for being woken up. “Are you drunk dialing me or something?”
“I wish. Noah got in an accident.”
It feels like I’ve been dunked in ice water. “Is he okay?”
“Yeah. He’s pretty banged up and needed a few stitches, but he’ll be fine. I just took him home. He said you guys got in a fight and he didn’t think you’d come get him, but I know you. You could hate the guy and you’d still go, and you’d probably spend the night just to make sure he’s okay. That’s all he would say. What the hell did he do?”
Tears run down my cheeks. I would go get him. I would stay and make sure he wasn’t in pain, make sure he knew how to clean and care for whatever injuries he had.
“He’s just not ready to be a dad.” I take in a shaky breath. “Are you still with him?”
“Yeah. I’m about ready to leave. He got a shot of morphine and is passed out.”
“Stay there. I’m coming over.” I don’t have to think about it. Noah is hurt. I’m going to him.
“Okay. Drive safe.”
“I always do.”
I hang up, and gather up everything I need in a mad run. I forget dog food, and run my pregnant ass back into the house, spilling kibble all over the floor in my haste. Then I’m speeding through the dark to get to Noah.
The drive takes forever. I don’t even turn on the radio. Finally I pull into the parking lot, grab my bag and the dogs, and rush inside, texting Colin that I’m here to buzz me in.
“You brought the dogs?” my brother asks as soon as we bustle through the door.
“I’m leaving for work at seven. I kinda had to. Plus Noah likes them.” And now my heart is breaking all over again. Tears fill my eyes and I don’t want to cry in front of Colin. He’ll hate Noah for hurting me. Colin crouches down to greet the dogs while I run (okay…waddle at this point) through the apartment and into Noah’s room.
It’s dark, and the first thing I see is rumpled sheets. I’m hit with the memory of the first time we made love. I have to bit my lip to keep from breaking down.
“Noah?” I whisper, voice tight. “Are you awake?”
I dig my phone out of my coat pocket and use it as a flashlight. He’s lying on his back, and shadows merge with bruises on his face. His shirt is off, and a blanket is pulled up to his chest. His left arm is bent, resting on his stomach. It’s wrapped in gauze.
As a vet tech, I see a lot of nasty things. Infected wounds, horrible injuries…it doesn’t faze me. But seeing Noah like this makes my stomach hurt. Tears run down my cheeks. I wipe them away and gently kneel on the bed, bending over to kiss Noah. The second my lips touch his, my heart breaks into a million pieces.
This is out last kiss.
Noah takes a deep breath and his eyes flutter open for a split second. “Lauren,” he mumbles.
“I’m here,” I say through my tears. I lace my fingers through his. “I’m here, Noah. It’s okay.”
“Lauren,” he says again. “I’m sorry.”
No matter how hard I try, I can’t stop from crying. I cover my mouth with my hand, hoping to muffle the sounds of sobbing enough from Colin. A few minutes pass and I’m able to get myself under control. I mop my face with the bottom of my pajama shirt, and then go back into the living room with Colin and the dogs.
“Do you want me to stay?” Colin asks. I didn’t do a very good job covering up the fact I was crying, apparently.
“No, it’s okay. Jenny probably wants you home.”
“She’s not home; she got stuck doing a double.”
“Oh, okay. You don’t need to stay. I’m gonna sit in there with him and make sure he’s okay, but I’ll probably fall asleep soon anyway.”
Colin nods. “Are you two really done?”
“I don’t know.” My voice breaks. “Probably.”
“If that’s what you want,” Colin says and I know he’s confused since neither Noah or I offered an explanation. I don’t want to ruin Colin’s friendship.
“It’s not what I want, it’s what I need. I don’t want to think I can count on him when really I can’t.”
“I won’t tell you what to do,” Colin starts. “But I will say I’ve never seen Noah like that.”
“Injured?”
“No, I’ve seen that plenty of times. I mean sad.”
I close my eyes and fat tears roll out.
“I don’t know what happened,” Colin goes on. “But I do know he cares.”
That’s the best and worst thing to hear right now. It’s making my resolve waver.
“Thanks for picking him up, Colin.”
“Yeah … let me know what’s going on, okay? And if I have to throw a few punches, I’ll at least wait until Noah’s stitches are healed.”
“Thanks.” I step forward and give my brother a hug. I lock the door behind him when he leaves and turn around, leaning on it. I suck in a breath, jaw trembling.
I hate this. My head hurts, though not as badly as my heart, and I know I need to get some sleep since I have to be up early for work in the morning. Sleep won’t come easy, and I don’t know where to sleep. Next to Noah? He’s injured…but we broke up. Being here is hard enough. Being in bed next to him…I’m not strong enough.
Ella has to come first.
If I lay down next to him, wake up to his arms around me, I might go back on everything. I can’t. Instead, I set food and water up for the dogs, check on Noah, then take a pillow from his bed and move onto the couch. Physically, I’m exhausted. Mentally, my brain won’t shut the fuck up. And Ella is right there with it, kicking and pushing on my bladder, making me get up to pee every few minutes.
Finally, I fall asleep, only to be woken up by someone gently poking my cheek. I open my eyes, to see Noah standing next to the couch.
“Am I dead?” he asks.
“What?” I push up. “No, you’re not dead. What’s wrong?”
He blinks, and I notice his eyes are super dilated. He’s still heavy under the influence of pain medication. “Are you sure I’m not dead? I woke up with the dogs. And now you’re here.”
“Why would that make you think you’re dead?”
“Because this is what I want. You, with me.”
Damn you, drugged up Noah. Nine little words, like nine little bullets. I burst into tears, thank you hormones.
“Well, if I was dead I wouldn’t make you cry,” Noah says.
“It’s okay,” I hiccup. “Are you hurting?”
“I’ve been hurting since you said goodbye.”
I can’t handle that right now. Or ever. “Come here,” I say and heft myself off the couch. “Let me see.”
“Okay,” he says softly and follows me into the kitchen. I have him sit on a barstool so I can inspect his wounds. I don’t take care of people, but stitches are stitches. He has five stitches on his left arm. The skin around it is in bad shape from road rash, and I can see bruises all over the left side of his body.
Colin summed it up perfectly: Noah is beat to he’ll but will be okay. I believed my brother, but seeing it first hand offers relief. Noah and I might not be together, but I didn’t stop caring about him. I don’t think I’ll ever stop caring.
“They look good,” I say, putting the gauze back over the cut on his arm. “Make sure you keep it clean and dry.”
“I will.”
“Do you have anything to take for pain later?” I can’t look at him when I talk.
“I do. Lauren…thanks for coming over.”
“You don’t have to thank me.”
“Yes I do.”
I turn and he catches my wrist. His skin against mine causes a ripple in my soul.
“Lauren.”
“Noah, I can’t.” Tears are running down my face.
He gives my arm a gentle tug. “I miss you.”
I pull my arm back, breaking his grasp. “You need to rest, Noah.”
He nods, and through my blurry vision, I see the heartbreak on his face. He stays there for another few seconds, looking at me, before going back into his room.
I cry myself to sleep.
My alarm goes off too soon. I wake up tired. This is going to be a great fucking day. I stiffly sit up; sleeping on the couch with a pregnant belly is not comfortable. Sasha is on the floor near me and Vader is nowhere to be seen. He must be in with Noah.
After using the bathroom, I duck into Noah’s room. Vader is snuggled up with him, head pressed against Noah’s chest. It’s sad and it’s sweet and if I keep staring, I’m going to start crying again. So I turn and get ready for work. I make a sandwich for Noah and put it in the fridge. I know he’ll be hungry when he wakes up and won’t want to cook anything. He came home with extra dressings for his wounds. I go through the discharge instructions, rewriting it in simpler, easy-to-follow steps, and lay out what he’ll need to keep his stitches from getting infected on the counter.
I’m dressed and ready to get the dogs and leave. Yet here I am, sitting in the kitchen. When I walk out that door, I won’t ever come back here. At least not in a way that’s enjoyable. I hug my stomach, thinking of the little girl who’s inside.
It’s for you, baby.
I don’t try to hold back the tears. They will come eventually anyway. I am sad. I am broken hearted. And that’s okay. What’s not okay is giving in and letting myself get hurt again.
I get up, and go into Noah’s room, stopping in the doorway. My heart aches as I gaze upon him. I miss him so much.
“Goodbye, Noah,” I whisper.
I’m sobbing when I get into my Jeep. I want to rush back in, hold Noah, and never let go.