Goddesses Don't Get Sick (16 page)

FORTY-TWO.

ALTHOUGH NEITHER PRETTY NOR PERMANENT
in their damage, the little fights became somewhat common between Jason and Angela as the months progressed. Angela had taken to feigning sleep as best she could in the mornings while Jason got ready for work, merely to prevent another fight from starting. Unfortunately, her body had other plans much of the time, and Angela would often find herself waking up before her husband did, only to occupy the bathroom.

At which point they would argue—about whether Angela was going to accept any help, whether the doctors could do anything, whether this was normal—and then Jason would storm out to work, usually after a particularly catty comment from one of them, only to return at the end of the day with a heartfelt apology. The apologies for the bigger fights were punctuated with flowers, but Jason’s apology was always the same: he was being unfair to Angela; he couldn’t possibly know what she’s going through; he should be more aware of her emotions; he should trust her enough to know her own body; and so on.

Angela had no problem with her husband attributing her mood swings to the pregnancy, but she had a harder time believing the excuse herself. Sometimes, she felt as if she couldn’t tell the difference between a pregnancy-induced mood swing, or the general anger and frustration she had begun to feel about the path her life had taken.

On more than one occasion, Angela wondered if things between her and Jason would have been much different if she hadn’t conceived.

The months passed by at a snail’s pace, Angela’s symptoms slowly increasing and growing worse, while the early signs refused to leave. Even when she was well into her fourth month, Angela couldn’t keep food down before noon at the earliest, and anything after that was only a gamble at best.

Doctor Harris had grown so concerned that she’d insisted Angela visit once a fortnight; each time taking what tests she could, each time getting the same results. To all appearances, this was nothing more than a normal—if somewhat difficult—pregnancy.

Slowly, Angela’s shape began to develop, and when she could stand it Jason would delight in spending all the time he could holding her close, his hand on her stomach as he searched for the telltale signs of a kick.

He’s going to be a good father
, Angela would often think to herself sadly.
Wonder if I’ll be any good as a Mom.

On the days that Angela could manage to stand upright without her vision blurring, she would leave the house for some fresh air and walk as far as her body would allow. Angela and Jason’s house was close enough to their former university that she would often find herself heading in its direction, wandering by her old house to go and sit in the park, or just meander around the campus that had been her home for that pivotal handful of years.

It was on one of these walks—Angela not paying attention to where she was going as she brooded about her latest spat with Jason—that she suddenly found her thoughts leaping unbidden from him to Tuyen. Her heart twisted with longing as she thought about the Angel, and wondered where he was. She hadn’t seen him since that night before the wedding, and although she still wore the feather, and thought about him often, he had made no attempt to get in contact with her.

Unable to decide if this was because of something she had done or caused, Angela was too nervous to focus all her attention on calling the Angel, settling instead for a kind of constant longing in the back of her mind.

Oh, Tuyen…

Rousing herself out of her musings, Angela found that she had taken a wrong street, heading not towards her home, but to a certain bridge. The one she had nearly jumped off the night she had first met her Angel.

I wonder…

Out of a kind of morbid curiosity, Angela turned in the direction of the bridge and began to walk towards it.

Tuyen sat on the edge of the bridge and looked down at the water below, hands hanging limply in his lap as he brooded. The burn on his face had healed badly, leaving an angry, red slash of a scar that felt horribly to the Angel like some sort of hellish branding.

He had tried to continue going about his Duties, but had begun to find it hard to convince his charges that life was worth living. A challenge not helped by the fact that he knew they were deterred by his scarred face. That the burn still made it painful to smile didn’t help, either. Tuyen had all but given up on his Duties, by now only performing the tasks that were absolutely necessary to his being, and leaving it at that.

There are plenty more that can do a better job than I am right now,
he told himself bitterly.

More and more, the Angel would find himself sitting at this bridge, remembering the woman he had met on it as he focused on the feather around her neck. The emotions he was able to pick up from Angela since the wedding had only further confused his troubled mind; sadness, fear, anger, sickness, longing…And something new, tied in to everything—especially the sickness and fear—but completely foreign.

He could feel when she yearned for him. The intensity of it was almost too much to bear at times. But for all its strength, Tuyen would never feel it for more than a few moments before Angela would once again reign herself back under control. To the Angel, it felt as if she was trying to forget about him; a concept he did his best to weather, despite the pain it caused in his heart.

!!!

A sudden, overwhelming surge of joy radiated through Tuyen. Looking behind him, his confusion was soon obliterated by his own joyous disbelief.

Standing at the end of the bridge was Angela, staring at him as if she didn’t trust her eyes.

Twisting off his perch on the bridge, Tuyen began to walk towards her, his steps jerky as he fought the urge to break into a run. In the short time it took to cross the distance between them, his mind rejoiced at the love he could feel towards him.

She loves me
, he thought deliriously.
She loves me and doesn’t regret me and it’s all okay and she loves me I can’t believe she’s here
.

Choking back tears, Angela ran towards the Angel and flung herself into his arms. The two held each other close for a moment, before they both let go and stepped back in shock: Angela’s in surprise at the rough scar that had touched her cheek, Tuyen’s in final understanding of the fear and sickness.

“A—Angela,” he stammered, reaching out a hand to gently touch her slightly rounded stomach. “You’re pregnant?”

Cheeks flushing, Angela dropped her head and nodded, giving the Angel time to look at her oddly diminished form.

Why didn’t I pick up on this earlier?
He wondered. Angels generally had a good sense of human life, and could often tell even before the mother when a child had been conceived.

Lifting her face back up to look at him, Angela let out a small gasp as she saw the scar on Tuyen’s face.

“What happened?” She asked, reaching to touch it, but hesitating at the last moment. Tuyen gave her a pained half-smile.

“My punishment for loving a Goddess.”

Shame and regret welled up in Angela as she realized what harm she’d done.

“Oh, Tuyen. I am so sorry, my Angel,” she whispered, tears spilling over her cheeks. He shook his head and gently gathered her back into his arms.

“Don’t,” he murmured into her ear. “I paid the price, and would gladly do so again, for you. I told you, Goddess: I cannot deny you.” Tuyen pulled back slightly so that he could smile down at Angela.

She tried to return the expression, before sighing unhappily and shaking her head.

“I’m not a goddess, Tuyen.” Her voice was dull with regret. “A real goddess wouldn’t have allowed for her Angel to be punished because of something she…commanded. A real goddess wouldn’t get so sick with a pregnancy.” Angela faltered slightly, a nervousness carrying through to Tuyen that he puzzled over. “A real goddess wouldn’t have married the wrong man,” she finished quietly, subdued.

Tuyen’s heart wrenched as he began to understand the melancholy he had been feeling from her for so long.

Oh, my Goddess!

“It could have been worse,” he tried another smile in an effort to cheer Angela up. “They let me keep my wings. Although I’m not sure why…” He trailed off, looking troubled.

Angela smiled weakly at him, before a bout of lightheadedness hit her, and she swooned in his arms. Catching her easily, Tuyen walked her off the bridge and guided her to one of the park benches situated on the other side. They sat there for a while, Angela leaning gratefully on Tuyen’s shoulder and enjoying his presence, allowing her thoughts to drift idly until they took the shape of more persistent questions.

“How come I haven’t heard from you?” She asked softly. Tuyen sighed and wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

“I was afraid you didn’t want to see me,” he admitted. “I thought you might have regretted what…what we did. I didn’t want to disrupt your life again with my presence, if that was the case.”

Angela turned to look at him in surprise. “Why would I have regretted it? I asked for it!”

“That feather may pick up emotions, but it isn’t always clear as to what they mean.” Tuyen looked sheepish. “It was…simpler when we’d first met, and nothing had happened between us. You were easier to read, I suppose. Easier for me to guess what a particular emotion was focused on. Since you go married, what I’ve picked up from you was…much harder to understand. I know some of it was connected with me, but I wasn’t certain what. I didn’t want to make matters worse.”

The Angel stared out over the water, brow furrowed slightly as he went back over his memories of the past few months, wondering if he’d been particularly dense to have missed as much as he had.

“What have you been feeling?” Angela asked, curious despite herself. Tuyen sighed and closed his eyes.

“Anger. Fear. Pain. Regret. Longing. Sickness. Sometimes love. I suppose, in light of recent events, a lot of those have been focused on your pregnancy.”

“And now?”

“Now? Love,” the Angel smiled softly. “Still some fear. You seem ashamed, and I suppose it’s about this scar.” He touched it lightly, before turning his gaze to her, his eyes showing only love. “You shouldn’t feel ashamed about this, Goddess. I’ve come to accept it.”

A lie. But one that would be better for Angela to hear, he reasoned, than the truth. “And despite the situation, my maker must not be angry with you, otherwise they would not have blessed you with a child so quickly. What is it? A honeymoon conception?” Tuyen tried to keep his voice cheerful, swallowing the bitterness that rose in his throat. Angela bit her lip, suddenly doubtful.

(
Tell him!
)

But she looked again at his scar, barely healed…

I can’t
…

“Apparently so,” Angela smiled weakly at him, before sighing heavily. “It’s been such a horrible experience, though. I’m sick
all
the time, and I’ve had to take leave from work already. I’m basically stuck at home all day, missing you, and waiting for Jason to come home and apologize for whatever we fought about in the morning.”

“You fight often?” Tuyen asked, concerned.

“It’s nothing, just the mood swings I guess,” Angela sighed again. “Maybe. I don’t know. Jason’s fine but…he’s not you, Tuyen.”

The Angel smiled, although his thoughts turned down darker paths at the news.
I cannot break her vow to him
, he thought sadly.
Maybe it is best that I stay away. If nothing else, it would be better for the child.

They sat on the bench for a while longer, chatting idly about whatever entered their minds, before Angela admitted that she had to go home. They stood in each other’s embrace for a long moment, both struggling against tears, until eventually Angela pulled away gently.

“Will I see you again?” she asked, hopeful. Tuyen gave her a small, sad smile.

“Only if you wish it, my love. I will always come when my Goddess calls.” He gently brushed away an invisible strand of hair from Angela’s face. “Maybe once things have calmed down a bit?”

“Yeah, maybe.” Angela moved closer to kiss the Angel goodbye, aiming for his lips, but hitting his cheek instead when he tilted his head to the side. Nodding as if she had expected this, Angela gave him a final, small smile, and turned to make her way home.