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Her voice never sounded so cold:
“There’s… complications with the pregnancy. I might—I might not make it.”
The words echoed in my head until a sharp ringing replaced them. I struggled to find words that weren’t there until I stuttered, “I-isn’t there anything you can do?”
“I’m too far along. I don’t want to do anything drastic. If they try to remove the tumor,” her voiced cracked, “it could kill him.”
“But what about you?!”
“I don’t have the heart to risk his life.”
I know she won’t consider any other option than to put this in the hands of fate. She’s been so excited for this child and for a family. I never understood what changed in her. I’ve known her longer than anyone, and she’s never been interested in a serious relationship, never mind a family. Then, he showed up with his guitar and flowing hair, and she threw everything aside for him—even me. We haven’t hung out like we used to before him. At first, I thought he had to be a phase. I was sure of it. She couldn’t forget everything we had because of him. It’s always been us against the world. But now he’s everything to her, and this baby is even more. Even now as he’s struggling to get his life together after his music career finally crashed like everyone knew it would, she sees no faults. She always believes in everyone.
“But it’s only a possibility, right?”
“Of course! But we don’t know what could happen. I just want you to be prepared.” Well, I’m not prepared at all. “And… please don’t talk about this. I haven’t told anyone else yet.” Sometimes when I have doubts of how she sees us now, she does this and reels me back to her. I’ve always been the one she tells her secrets to.
“So there’s just… nothing? You’ll risk yourself for this? I don’t… I don’t understand.”
“I see so much potential in his life. Every being on this planet has entirely unique experiences. It’s all so wonderful, and I want him to be a part of that.”
I realize there’s nothing I can do and I start to feel dizzy. It finally hits me. The ground beneath me falls away. I begin to float as I’m overcome by a numbness. I know I’ve started sobbing, but I can’t feel the tears. The numbness begins to fade where her arms wrap around me, and I sense only her warmth.
I spend the following nights awake while I know she’s sleeping peacefully in his bed. I don’t know how he took the news, and I don’t care. I blame him for all of this—for taking what we had, and if he takes her permanently… I don’t know.
I try to spend the next few months with her as much as possible, but I know she wants to be with him. I don’t want to be a third wheel, although I used to enjoy it. I enjoyed watching his frustration as I got between them, but it’s not even worth it anymore. It never was. He was never affected by what I thought of their relationship. Nothing can break them apart. I know she would die for him. Does she remember I’d die for her? I know it’s wrong to feel that he’s stealing her from me, but she’s everything to me. We used to be everything together.
She does spend time with me when she’s away from him. Today is wonderful with her here, yet I can’t shake the feeling of doom lurking over me. We sit on the beach where we once lived together before he happened. We don’t speak. The quiet comforts me as the tide brushes our feet. For hours we sit like this while the sun sinks into the ocean much faster than I remember.
It was time. I fought against it for so long. Or maybe it wasn’t that long at all. I get a call from her that she’s at the hospital. She sounds so calm as she tells me the news. Her voice assures me for a moment that everything will work out.
By the time I get there, she’s in the operating room. No one is allowed in with her. I think the worst, and I know everyone else is too. I don’t sit near him, but I see him crying at the end of the hallway. I know I’m a mess myself.
I admit to myself that he loves her and I’m jealous; I’m jealous that she loves him too. But I’m not ready to forgive him. I’m not ready to forgive myself for how I’ve acted towards the both of them.
I don’t remember the doctor approaching us. I don’t remember her telling us the details. I don’t remember the new father being given his son. I do remember that forced smile through his tears as he first sees the baby. And the aching emptiness in my body is something I’ll never forget.
He whispers through the sobs that it’s all bittersweet, but it’s just bitter to me.
“Do you want to hold him?”
Of course not! I’ve never even interacted with a child. Knowing how to hold one is a completely different story. But he asks me first, knowing she always meant the most to me. I comply. This baby is all that’s left of her.
As I take him in my arms, he smiles up at me just like she always did. That warm smile… it brings me back to when we would sit on the beach till sunset, and I chuckle, though I don’t want to. The curls in her hair were mirrored in his. I saw her in his eyes. He giggles, un-phased by the sorrow. It was a cheerfulness she always had. I want to hate him for what he took from me, but I look at him and can see only her. My love for her, I now give to him.