Breathing For The First Time (18 page)

We each take one of Paige’s hands and guide her to the pedestal in front of the floor length mirrors. She stands still, her eyes pressed tightly closed, and we fluff the train of her dress. It’s a chapel length train instead of the cathedral train she wanted, but the dress is stunning. Tiffany and I step away from the mirror and tell Paige to open her eyes.

She gasps as she sees her reflection in the mirror. Her mouth hangs open while she takes in the beauty of the dress she’s wearing. Her hands smooth over the satin bodice and she gently fingers the ribbon at her waist. The skirt flows out around her, making her look like a princess from a fairy tale. Paige turns to look at the back of the dress and her eyes follow the rope detail down her spine to the train laid out behind her on the floor and then looks to me and Tiffany.

The tears teasing her eyes slip onto her cheeks, and we know she’s found The Dress. Tiffany and I leap forward and wrap Paige in a hug. 

Paige turns back to the mirror, admiring herself again. We step in beside her and we all breathe a sigh of relief. Tiffany walks away from the mirror and returns with a tiara. It fits over the top half of Paige’s head, sliding into her hair like it was made for her. The lavender crystals compliment the ribbon at her waist, but the best part is the silver shells tucked into the bottom of the tiara. It will look perfect with Paige’s amethyst engagement ring and the seashell jewelry she makes.

I step away and snap a few pictures for Paige’s mom and sisters. She looks like a bride. And she’s going to make a beautiful one.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Tyler

Rachel is doing better and recovering from her surgery yesterday. The doctors assured her that she will be able to have more kids, which is good news. Dad called Mom and told her what is going on and she agreed we need to stay for a little while. Heather offered to put us up at her home for a few days.

With Rachel out of surgery and the baby gone, I know we don’t belong here, but we wanted to stick around until Rachel is stronger. I booked a flight out tomorrow morning, hopefully getting back to Columbia before Brooke gets home from Charleston. She still hasn’t called me back.

Dad’s been on my case to call her again. He knows I’ve wanted to, but that I’ve been chicken. Losing the baby means I’m free to be with Brooke without ties to Rachel, but it doesn’t change the fact that I slept with Rachel. I know Brooke is still working on getting past that.

I finally give in to Dad’s pestering and call Brooke. She doesn’t answer her phone, again. Her automated voicemail asks me to leave a message. I tell her phone, “Hi Brooke, it’s me, uh Tyler. I just wanted to talk to you. I wanted to hear your voice. I, uh, need to talk to you about something, and I was wondering if you would call me back. I hope you’re having a good weekend shopping with Paige. Bye.”

I hang up feeling unsure about it all. I wish she had answered. Really I wish I could see her. In person is always the best way for me to talk to Brooke. Sitting in front of her, holding her hands, I could say what I really need to say. But on the phone, I know I’ll second guess myself.

At this point though, I just have to wait. A part of me fills with dread that she hasn’t called me back yet, but I push away those doubts. She’s just having a good weekend with her friends.

Dad stops at the cafeteria as we enter the hospital. I go straight to Rachel’s room, carrying a bouquet of flowers. It’s funny, Rachel had the surgery and she’s the one having to deal with the physical pain of all this, but I lost my child too. I’m having trouble processing it all, but the focus is all on Rachel. Really, it should be, but I’m hurting, too.

I knock on Rachel’s door and enter without waiting for a response. The curtain is drawn so I say her name once I push through the door. She answers and I walk around the curtain.

Rachel is sitting up in her hospital bed with a sheet draped over her lap. She smiles when I cross the room to her and kiss her cheek. I set the flowers on the window sill and take the chair next to her bed.

“How are you feeling today?” I ask her. After surgery yesterday she was pretty out of it, but the doctors said her recovery should be pretty easy because of the way they did the surgery. They used a robot which limited her incisions and decreases her recovery time.

Rachel winces as she adjusts her position, “I’m doing okay, I guess. The pain isn’t too bad, except when I sleep. They gave me a prescription for some heavy duty pain killers, but I’m trying not to take them, especially during the day.”

I nod, knowing Rachel has always been very cautious of what medicine she takes. She told me once that she took some cough medicine and it really messed her up. Ever since then she’s been careful and will have to be pretty sick before she takes any medicine.

“How are you other than the pain? About the baby?” I ask her, dropping my eyes to the floor. I still feel guilty, and can’t bear to look at Rachel and see her blame me also. After a moment I look up to face her, bracing myself against the blow I’m sure is coming.

I see pain and guilt in Rachel’s face. A tear breaks free from the corner of her eye and drifts down her cheek. I reach for her hand and hold it in mine. We sit in silence for a few moments. Rachel’s quiet sobs are the only sound in the room.

“I’m sorry,” Rachel whispers.

My eyes snap to hers and the expression she gives me is one of raw pain and pleading. “What in the world are you sorry for? The doctors said you didn’t do anything wrong. They even said you weren’t dehydrated and that there wasn’t anything that you could have done. How can you possibly blame yourself?”

Rachel’s body slumps forward as she begins to cry harder. I sit on the bed with her and wrap her in my arms. She leans into me and lets me hold her. I feel my tears start to fall, my own guilt washing over me. Rachel shouldn’t be punishing herself for this.

I murmur in her ear, “It’s not your fault,” and rock her with me. A part of me knows I’m trying to convince myself of the same thing I’m telling her.

Rachel’s sobs slow and her breathing begins to return to normal. I keep my arms around her, letting us heal together. She looks up to me and says, “Thanks. It’s not your fault either you know.”

I sit back and unwrap my arms from around her. I fall into the chair, knowing she’s trying to make me feel better. “Yeah, well, it feels like it is.”

“Because you didn’t want the baby? So you blame yourself. Divine Intervention to avoid trapping you with me?” Rachel says, sadness in her voice, but no accusing tone. I’m a little taken aback. How does she know I feel that way? It sounds so much worse when she says it like that.

“It’s not your fault, Ty. You said yourself the doctors said it just happens sometimes. I was right on the edge of the first trimester, and we knew the risks were there until that point. I should have been more careful, but maybe it was Divine Intervention.”

Rachel seems so calm right now. How can she be so relaxed in the midst of all this? Just yesterday she was pregnant, and now, the baby is gone.

“How are you handling this so well?” I ask her, narrowing my eyes at her, trying to figure her out.

She smiles at me, resting a hand on mine, “I talked to my mom, and your dad. They each came to see me early this morning, separately. The nurses let them in since they understood the situation.”

How did I miss that? I am in the same house with both of them. Then again, I’ve been self-involved, wallowing in my guilt.

“My mom told me that I could have more kids. She told me that next time it would be a happy occasion, not one that made me cry every day,” my heart drops at her admission of misery, but she holds up her hand before I can speak. “Mom knows the whole story and how happy you are with Brooke. She told me that this is my chance to let you go, and find the same love and happiness I told her you share with Brooke.”

My jaw hits the floor. She told her mom everything? Well, I told my dad, so I guess it makes sense.

“As for your dad... He cried with me. He admitted that even though we aren’t together that he still thinks of me as part of the family. He’s broken by this too and told me about a baby your mom lost.” My head snaps back up. I never knew Mom lost a baby and my confusion is obvious.

“What baby did my mom lose?” I ask her. I should be asking Dad, but he shared it with Rachel, and I need to know.

Rachel smiles a kind smile at me, one that tell me she will always love me, but she is ready to let me go. She tells me briefly about my parents and a sibling I never knew would have existed. The baby would have been the oldest. Mom was about as far along as Rachel and the same thing happened. She got worn out and went to bed only to wake up and find it was too late, the baby was gone.

I listen to Rachel repeating the words my dad told her and feel like I’m understanding a little more about Mom’s depression. Understanding how this can be so hard. And why Dad didn’t hesitate to meet me here, but Mom stayed home.

“I guess listening to your dad talk about their situation, and knowing they had you, and Ruth and Ann, gave me a little hope. It also helped me believe that this could happen to anyone. And that neither of us is to blame.” She says the last sentence forcefully, causing me to lift my eyes to hers.

I finally relent and nod. I accept her forgiveness, and give myself permission to admit I’m not to blame.

“Thank you, Rachel. It means a lot to hear you say you don’t blame me. And that you have hope for your future children. You will be a great mother, I never once imagined otherwise.”

A tear glistens in the corner of her eye and she thanks me.

I know Rachel and I will never be close like we once were, but it’s comforting to know we can still love each other, and be okay with where our lives have gone. And I’m ready for mine to continue at home, with Brooke.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Brooke

I pull into my apartment complex, ready to see Tyler. I missed a couple of calls from him over the last few days, but I never had a chance to call him back. We were up and out early and shopping all day. I felt silly calling to check in when I knew he was just sitting around. Plus, he probably just wanted to say hi.

His truck isn’t here. I thought he was going to stay at my place, but I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. He has his own place, and he’s probably more comfortable there. I’ll call him when I get inside and see where he is and if he wants to come over. I’ll probably have to do some groveling too since I didn’t return his calls.

I drop my stuff and instantly feel like something is out of place. I’m not sure what it is, but something feels weird about my apartment. Not creepy but strange. I walk around and notice things look messed up, like Tyler was in a hurry when he left.

I press his name on my call list and it goes straight to voicemail. That’s even more odd. Tyler never turns off his phone. What the hell is going on?

I listen to his voicemails again, trying to see if there’s any indication of what he’s doing. The first message is a rambling mess, something about he needed to go and he’ll explain later, but the noise in the background is loud and muffled, and almost sounds like an airport. The second message he says he wants to talk to me, but his voice is different, sad.

I call his phone back, desperate that he’ll answer this time, but no luck again. I leave him a message saying I’m home and to call or come by whenever he can. I send him a text too, just in case.

I keep myself busy, unpacking, and checking Facebook and Pinterest. I finally call and order dinner, making sure I get enough pizza delivered in case Tyler shows up tonight.

Maybe he’s giving me the silent treatment. I wonder if he thinks I was trying to brush him off all weekend and now he’s doing the same to me. No, he wouldn’t do that.

So where is he?

This better not be a way to get back into my bed. Tyler has spent the night a few times since he’s been back from Texas, but we haven’t had sex. I keep feeling like he’s holding something back from me, and I need to know what is going on before we bring that part of our relationship back.

I’ve asked him about his trip. I tried to pull some information out of him, but he never really wanted to share anything with me. It made me feel like he was hiding something, and I don’t like that feeling. The last time he was hiding something from me he went on vacation with Rachel and got her pregnant.

A knock on the door tells me the pizza is here and I get up, cash in hand. When I open the door Tyler is standing there, holding my pizza, and he looks completely worn out. “Can I come in?” he asks.

I step back to let him in and he walks straight to the kitchen, setting the pizza on the stove. He pauses for a minute before turning back to me. “Are you waiting for someone? I don’t want to be interrupting your night, I just really wanted to see you.”

I pull him into a hug, “I was waiting for you.” I say into his neck. “I ordered enough to make sure I had food in case you decided to come over.”

He opens the boxes, pepperoni for me and mushroom, onion, and pepperoni for him. He obviously believes me, but something isn’t right. There is a sour expression on his face, one I can’t quite place.

I try to lighten the mood and ask where he was when I got home. He looks into my eyes, and I can finally place the sour expression. It’s a mix between sadness, disappointment, and anger. “I was in Louisiana.”

My eyes narrow, my own anger rising to the surface holding hands with a pang of jealousy. I leave for one weekend and he runs off to be with Rachel?

“Rachel lost the baby,” he says before I can say anything.

I heart pounds in my ears as I imagine the pain he’s been through this weekend. “Oh, Ty, I’m so sorry. Is she okay? Are you okay? God, I’m such an ass for not calling you back.”

“It’s okay, Brooke, really. There wasn’t anything you could have done. Rachel’s mom called me right after you left and I went right away. My dad met me there and we stayed with Rachel’s family. She went home this afternoon, shortly after I flew out.”