Awaken Me (The Jaded Series Book 4) (42 page)

“Why isn’t anyone back with her? She shouldn’t be alone right now.”

“She wanted us to leave. She doesn’t want anyone back there with her right now. She became upset when we refused to leave, so we decided to give her some space for a little while.”

“Fuck,” I mutter, fisting my hair with trembling hands. I don’t like the thought of her being alone. No one should be alone during a time like this. It’s not good for them. I, of all people, know this. I realize now that I shouldn’t have pushed my friends aside like I did after I lost Anna. I should have let them in. Just like Chris needs to let us in now.

We all sit in silence for a while. Ethan took Karyn home about an hour ago. She’s heavily pregnant and needs as much rest as she can get. Hours pass quietly. With the exception of Ethan and Karyn, we all stay vigilant in the waiting room. Jase and Mia went back a while ago to check on Chris, but came back a few minutes later saying she was sleeping.

Andrew and Jase get up from their chairs. Andrew stops to tell me they are going to the cafeteria for some coffee and ask if Jaxon or I want one. We both nod. Mia and Bailey are both curled up in their chairs fast asleep. Mac is over by the bank of windows, seemingly looking out into nothing.

Jaxon’s mom calls for an update, so he gets up and walks across the room to speak with her without disturbing the women. The opportunity and need to see if Chris is okay are too great. I look over at the nurses’ station and see she’s on the phone with her back to me.

I take one last look at the women, then at Mac and Jaxon, and carefully get up from my seat. I don’t know what room Chris is in, but I’ll peek in every damn one I come across until I find hers. I just need a glimpse of her, something to reassure me that she’s safe and sound.

I walk down the hall and look in several open doors before I come across the one I want. I see her deep red hair first. She’s on her side facing away from me, huddled up into a ball. She looks so small and childlike lying there like she is. I stand in the doorway, contemplating going in. I know she doesn’t want to see me, with good reason, and I don’t want to upset her, but I need to see her green eyes.

I must make a noise, because she slowly straightens her legs and turns on her back. When her face comes into view, my gut drops down to my toes. Her eyes are red rimmed and slightly swollen, like she’s been crying. Her already fair skin is even more pale. It’s only been a several hours since I last saw her, but I’d swear she’s lost weight in those short hours. Her once beautiful bright green eyes now look dull and lifeless.

She only glances at me for a second, and in that second I see a bottomless pit of pain before she turns so her back is facing me again.

“Leave,” she says in a voice void of all emotion.

Instead of heeding her demand, I take a few steps closer to her. I know I should leave. The last thing I want to do is upset her, but the need to make sure she’s truly okay is too much to ignore.

I stop by the bed and just look down at her. She’s looking sightlessly forward. Her arms are around her stomach with her knees drawn up to them, like she’s trying to protect a baby that’s no longer there. Her pillow looks to be soaked from her tears. The sight of her defeated form shreds my insides.

“Chris,” I say on a croak and reach out to place my hand on her shoulder. “Please, Sugar—”

She violently flinches away from me. “Don’t”—she turns menacing eyes to me—“fucking touch me. You got what you wanted. She’s gone.” She ends with a broken sob.

“No, baby, no,” I whisper brokenly. Her words send jagged pains through my stomach.

Not able to bear her cries, I reach out again, intent on taking her in my arms. I only get as far as rolling her on her back before she starts bucking on the bed, shoving with her small arms to push me away.

“No!” she screams. “Leave me alone! Don’t touch me! I don’t want to see you.” She slams her fists against my arms.

I take a step back, shocked at her hysterical behavior. She curls back into a ball and crushes my heart all over again when she starts crying uncontrollably. She tucks her head in her arms and weeps so hard her body is shaking.

There’s a sound behind me, but I can’t take my eyes off the sight of Chris coming undone in front of me. Never have I seen grief so great before. A nurse rushes past me and goes to Chris’s side, gently consoling her.

“Sir, you need to leave,” comes a firm voice behind me.

Tearing my eyes off the crumpled female in bed, I turn to see a nurse standing two feet from me. Her eyes are filled with regret and compassion. I turn back to Chris, who has quieted down some but is still sobbing. The nurse by her side is soothingly running her hand down her hair and back.

I don’t want to leave. I want to stay here and witness Chris break. This is my punishment for everything I’ve done to her. Every cruel word I’ve said or action I’ve taken. But I know I need to leave for her sake. She’s already going through so much right now as it is, I won’t add any more stress to her. I won’t be far though. I’ll never stray far from her again. I’ll wait however long it takes.

Taking one last look at the woman who’s come to mean more to me than anything else in the world, I turn on my heel and walk out of her room, leaving every part of me I once told her I didn’t possess to give anymore.

Chris

Even through my inconsolable crying I hear Nick leave. As soon as he’s out the door, my sobs become worse. When I heard the noise behind me a few minutes ago, he was the last person I expected to see. I told everyone I didn’t want to see him. I just can’t handle it right now. After what he said to me in my apartment, the way he acted, there’s no way I can see him. I don’t know if what he said was how he really felt or not, but knowing the thought even crossed his mind ruined something inside me.

I pull back from the nurse a few minutes later and wipe my face. My head is pounding from all the crying I’ve done the last few hours. I’m exhausted, but I’m scared to go to sleep. The couple times I have, I relive the scene in my apartment. Then I forget I’ve lost the precious life that was inside me, and I wake again to the crushing pain of the loss. Is this how Nick feels when he wakes from his dreams? Does he relive Anna dying night after night?

The thought is depressing and terrifies me.

The nurse injects something in my IV to help me sleep before leaving. I told her I didn’t want anything, but she’s insistent.

“Your body needs rest to recuperate,” she tells me gently. “To do that, you need to sleep. You’ll feel better in the morning.” She pats my hand in sympathy and walks out of the room.

I wanted to laugh in her face. There’s no way I’ll feel better in the morning. I don’t know if I’ll ever feel better again. With the loss of the baby, I feel empty inside. As if when my body passed the baby, it took all the vital parts of me with it.

I roll to my side and clutch my now babyless stomach. The doctor told me it was nothing I did that caused me to lose the baby; that sometimes there’s just something wrong with the fetus and nature takes over to dispel it. When I told him about my argument with Nick, he said the body is more than capable of handling stress and that I shouldn’t think that was the cause either. I know he’s right, but I still can’t help but think I could have done something to prevent it.

I wonder if Nick’s secretly glad she’s gone. I also can’t help but feel anger and resentment toward him for suggesting I give her up. I hate him at this moment. It’s wrong of me to think that way, but I do. Maybe over time I can forgive him, but right now it’s just not possible.

Whatever the nurse gave me is making my head feel fuzzy. I close my eyes to help with the spinning. I’m being released tomorrow. I hate hospitals. I should be excited I get to go home, but the thought of being there again is daunting. I’m worried I’ll hear Nick’s words echoing off the walls. I’ve only known about the baby for a little over a week, and I hadn’t planned on being in the apartment for long after she was born, but I already pictured her there. Of getting up for late-night feedings and diaper changes, or seeing her sleeping in a bassinet. Of giving her baths in the claw-foot tub in the bathroom and sitting beside her on the floor on a blanket and tickling her toes. My mind was making so many plans and they were cruelly snatched away from me. I have no idea how or if things will go back to normal. I just know the thought of walking in that apartment again scares me.

The house is finally quiet. I’m in my bed, where I’ve been for the last couple days. I haven’t gotten up much, except to use the bathroom. Not because I’m in pain, although I have been having some mild cramps. No, I don’t get up because I just don’t feel like it. My desire to face the world is nonexistent. With the loss of the baby and Nick, I’ve lost the need to do anything except lie in my bed.

Bailey and Jase have been here since I got out of the hospital. Sometimes the others stop by to check up on things, but I can’t find the energy to go out there to be social. I just want to be left alone. Jase and Bailey have tried forcing me out of the room, but when I glare, they relent and leave me alone.

I feel terrible that Bailey’s here all the time. Jaxon’s brought Amari by a couple times to see her mom. I could hear her in the other room, and every time I do it pierces my heart, but I think they know it hurts too much to be around another baby, so he doesn’t stay long. I’ve told Bailey she needs to go home to her own family, but she insists she’s staying for a few days to make sure I’m alright. She says Amari and Jaxon are fine by themselves for a few days and on the nights he works, Amari is with his mom. She’s tried getting me to talk to her, but I won’t. If anyone knows the pain I’m going through, it’s her. But I’m not ready to talk about it yet.

Even though I didn’t want to, I spoke with my parents briefly. My mom was hysterical and my dad was his usual calm self. It’s sad to think he really only shows emotion when he’s berating Jase for whatever reason. However—and it could have just been my imagination—I thought I could hear a hint of concern in his voice. Mom wanted to come immediately, but I flatly refused. I can’t deal with seeing them on top of losing the baby and Nick.

Jase came in about an hour ago to bring me something to eat. It’s still sitting on the nightstand untouched. I have no desire to eat, and even just the thought of it makes me nauseous. I haven’t really eaten much since the day I lost the baby. I know I need to, but I just can’t stomach much right now.

Although I force myself out of bed every day to shower, I stay in my nightclothes. I torture myself by wearing a t-shirt of Nick’s he left behind. I miss him so damn much, but I still feel loathing toward him. It hurts to think about him, but he and the baby are all I think about. I know I’m in a self-induced pity party, but I can’t find it in myself to give two shits.

Even through my closed door, I can tell that isn’t Bailey or Jase talking. The walls are thin, so I know it’s Andrew and Mac. I listen.

“I’ve told him to leave, but he won’t,” Andrew says to someone.

“I’ll get him to fucking leave,” comes Jase’s growly tone. “She doesn’t want to fucking see him. What doesn’t he get about that?”

“Leave him be, Jase,” Mac says next. “He’s not hurting anything.”

“Whatever. He just better stay on the other side of that fucking door.” Jase again.

“He looks like shit. He needs to at least go home and sleep, eat, and shower,” comes from Andrew.

“He says he’s staying as long as it takes. I’ve been taking him food,” Bailey pipes in. “I told him to come inside.” Even through the walls, I hear Jase’s growl. Bailey cuts him off when she continues firmly, “No, Jase. Have you seen how he looks? He looks awful. I don’t know what happened between them that night, but whatever it was, he’s paying for it.”

They turn quiet for several minutes. I’ve known Nick’s been out there since the day I got home. He just sits out in the hallway across from my door. He never tries to come in. I don’t know why he’s here; maybe out of guilt. Part of me wants to go to him and beg for comfort, for him to tell me everything will be okay, while another part wants to go out and scream at him and tell him I never want to see him again. And yet another part just wants to forget he exists. I want to forget every moment I’ve spent with him. Which also means forgetting I was ever pregnant. Maybe I’m wrong for wanting that, but I feel like it’s the only thing that will help. Nick and this baby have been a part of my life for such a small amount of time, but the impact of them both has been monumental.