My Biggest Mistake Page 21

  Beth helped me in the kitchen while I made dinner, and played with the kids. Donnie remained upstairs, giving us our space.

  “I’m sorry I left so quickly the other day,” I said, feeling the need to apologize to her. I had so much I needed to apologize for, but didn’t have the strength to say it all.

  “Don’t worry about it. I ate your soup, though. It was pretty good.”

  I laughed, knowing she only said it to be humorous, and it worked.

  “I take it Livvy was okay?”

  “Yes. She just needed an excuse to be doted on. It’s amazing how long she let that play out for, asking me to do everything for her except wipe her ass. I swear, had she thought about it, she probably would’ve asked me to do that as well.”

  “Well, she’s spent nearly her whole life fighting for the attention. She’s got two really cute little brothers to compete against.” She smiled down at one of the aforementioned boys, Gavin, running into the kitchen.

  “Mommy,” he called out, and I watched as Beth caught herself before answering. “Beff is here.” He excitedly wrapped his little arms around her leg.

  “I know. She’s having dinner with us,” I said with just as much excitement in my tone as he had in his. Although, mine was feigned whereas his was sincere. “Can you help Beth set the table while I go get everyone else so we can eat?”

  Beth didn’t return my glance as she started to help Gavin gather the silverware from the drawer to set the table with. I turned away and found Mikey with Livvy in the family room in front of the TV. I told them to wash up and then headed upstairs to find Donnie.

  He was in our bedroom and turned around to face me once I opened the door. The devilish grin on his lips made my heart skip a beat and brought a smile to my face, causing my cheeks to burn from its intensity. “Dinner’s ready,” I said as I stood there and took in the sight that I once thought I’d never see again.

  He had a glint in his eye as he slowly made his way to me. “The faster we eat dinner, the sooner I get to eat dessert.” He grabbed a handful of my ass and pulled me against his hard body before taking my mouth with his.

  I couldn’t help but think he did this to prove something to me—or maybe to himself—but I quickly squashed that concern when a grunt vibrated in his chest, sending a warmth throughout my body.

  “Then come on, dinner is on the table.”

  He followed me downstairs, where we found Beth and all three kids sitting, waiting patiently for us to eat. I was a little surprised to find Gavin sitting next to Beth, considering he always wanted to sit next to me, but I had to push down the ache as I reminded myself that she would be moving away in a little over a week and I wouldn’t have to worry about that again.

  And it wasn’t so much of a worry about Beth, just an uneasiness of being replaced. Again. It’s happened once before, and I feared it happening again. I wouldn’t survive it the next time. And the little voice inside my head, telling me there would be a next time, wouldn’t quiet down.

  “Is Beff back now?” Gavin asked animatedly with his eyes wide and his lips turned up into a wide grin.

  I glanced at Donnie, worried about how we were going to handle it when Beth spoke up, running her fingers lovingly through his blond hair. “No, sweetie. I just came over to say goodbye to you guys. I’m moving soon, so I won’t be here anymore. But it’s okay because you have your mommy back now.”

  “Why can’t we have both?” Livvy questioned from her seat. She seemed more curious than anything.

  I waited for Beth to answer, but instead, she looked to me for help.

  “Um, sweetie…well, Beth was here while I was away getting better to help you guys and Daddy. But I’m back now, so we don’t need Beth’s help anymore. Now she has to take care of herself.”

  “Is she sick, too? Like you were?” the inquisitive Livvy asked again.

  “No. Beth isn’t sick. She is leaving for her work. She got a job that’s not here so she has to move so she can work.”

  Gavin looked up at her, his chubby face pinched in a painful expression. “Do you not love us anymore?” His voice was high and cracked with emotion as he pronounced it as “wuv us anymoah.”

  All three of us—Donnie, Beth, and I—barked out, “No!” But then Donnie and I allowed Beth to speak for herself. “No, Gavin. Of course I love you. I’ll always love you. But I can’t stay here forever. I was only here until your mommy got better. I will be back to visit, and you can call me anytime. Just like you used to do. I’ll always make time to talk to you.”

  My chest ached and felt as if someone were sitting on it, stealing the air from my lungs. It hurt to witness this moment, knowing once again, it was all my fault and there was nothing I could do about it.

  Beth spent the remainder of the time talking to the kids while Donnie and I exchanged glances from across the table. I listened as Livvy told her about school, and then as the boys fought over their stories from daycare. She listened intently and responded theatrically with every story they told, and I just sat there and watched it all play out in front of me, wishing I could keep my children from feeling any more of the pain I’ve caused.

  Finally, after we finished eating and the kids excused themselves from the table to get ready for bed, Donnie asked Beth about her new job and what she would be doing.

  “God, can you image where we’d be right now if things were different?” she asked, although I wasn’t sure whom to.

  “What do you mean?” I questioned with apprehension.

  “Just thinking out loud. I mean, I left my job for a smaller store so that I could be here for the kids. If that didn’t happen, I wouldn’t have gotten this offer. This is a huge position for me. A dream come true. I’ll be overseeing the operations of ten stores. I never would’ve been given this opportunity at Furniture City.”

  I knew she meant no malice by her statement, and it was meant with optimism, yet it didn’t stop my heart from aching at the thought of how much would’ve been different—not just her job offer. I knew I had to excuse myself from the table before the tears made a comeback, so I politely stood and grabbed the empty plates, taking them with me to the kitchen.

  “Well, it’s a good opportunity for you. I’m happy for you,” I heard Donnie say, sounding sincere. “But you’re right, I doubt any of our lives would be the same right now if things had turned out differently. But I can’t say I regret anything that’s happened. Everything happens for a reason, right?”

  “You have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that. I worried so much that you wouldn’t be able to forgive Edie, and it saddened me to no end to think about that. No one deserves to go through what she did. And it just proves what a good person you are. I’m ecstatic that you two are happy.” Her voice softened some, but I could still make out her words from a room away.

  I tried to busy myself with the dishes, yet make as little noise as possible, needing to hear what they were saying in my absence. It wasn’t that I distrusted either of them—they have both been nothing but honest with me when I’d been the dishonest one. I simply wanted to hear their conversation.

  “But I mean, just think about it…who knows how many kids you’d have if things didn’t turn out the way it did.” An airy laugh filled the other room. “I know you’ve always said you wanted a dozen of them, but admit it, Donnie, you wouldn’t be able to handle more than what you have.”

  The room began to spin around me.

  “Who knows, we might’ve stopped at the three. Edie would’ve killed me if she had to carry another set of twins.” His laugh rang out through the room, finding humor in a conversation I knew would end in my tears.

  The plate slipped from my hand into the sink.

  “Well, you’d at least have one more.” Her voice sounded light, unknowing that her words would ruin me. End me.

  I couldn’t get enough oxygen into my lungs, no matter how hard I heaved in and out. I couldn’t breathe and felt as if I were suffocating.

  “Wha
t do you mean?” His voice grew harsh, and I could pick up on the concern, confusion, and panic.

  I fell to my knees, knowing I’d just lost everything. It didn’t matter if I ran into the room and stopped their conversation. It didn’t matter because the damage had already been done.

  “The baby… Edie told me she told you.”

  Silent tears spilled out of my eyes as my stomach wrenched, threatening to purge itself of the food I’d just eaten. I had no strength left in me, none. I couldn’t move even if I wanted to.

  “Oh my God, she didn’t tell you…”

  I don’t know if I actually heard that or if my mind had made it up. What I did hear, though, was the high-pitched screeching of the chair legs scraping against the tile floor as it was quickly pushed away.

  “Tell me what?”

  Blood whooshed through my ears at the sound of Donnie’s angry voice—the voice that meant he wouldn’t back down until he had answers.

  “I-I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  I could tell she’d been crying, I could hear it in her voice, in her shaky words. A ringing sound filled the space around me, filled my head until it felt as if it were in a vice, nothing but heavy pressure.

  “Someone better fucking tell me now!”

  A loud banging sound came from the other room, sounding much like a hand hitting the table with a lot of force, and it caused the edges of my vision turned black. My world was caving in on me.

  “She was pregnant…”

  I wanted to give into the darkness and never come back out. But it wouldn’t take me. It made me lie there on the cold kitchen floor as my worst nightmare played out in the other room. Made me listen to every word spoken, whispered, mumbled, taunting me with the biggest mistake of my life.

  “When?” A whispered question, yet it felt like it was asked right next to me, cocooning me in the sadness that filled his voice. Such a desolate sound, one that consumed me and threated to never leave. I’d felt this before. Two years ago to be exact. And I barely made it out alive…I knew I never would this time.

  “When she left.”

  And then my world went dark, but not before a heart-wrenching scream swirled around me. It was full of anguish, pain, sorrow. The agonizing sound filled my head as my vision grew dark and I wondered briefly where it came from. And just before I released my grip on reality and allowed the darkness to take hold, I heard it again, yet this time, it ripped through my throat, leaving it raw and sore. Those screams were mine…and mine alone.

  The tips of my fingers, my toes, and my lips tingled so deeply they almost burned. Without even opening my eyes, I knew where I was. I knew what had happened. And I couldn’t stop the searing tears from leaking out of my closed lids. They ran down my face, cooling as they pooled onto the tile floor beneath me.

  I didn’t want to wake up. I had no desire to open my eyes and see the devastation I’d caused, but everything around me seemed too quiet, felt too eerie. As the numbness began to fade, a deep sob erupted from my chest, leaving my chest tight and sore.

  A hiss from in front of me forced my eyes open. Donnie sat on the floor with his back against the cabinets, staring at me, his knees bent in front of him with his arms wrapped around his legs. There was no mistaking the pain in his eyes. They were lined with a deep red, and the blue seemed to shine so bright, nothing like the deep blue I’d become so used to. I never understood how crying could do that to eyes. How could that much pain and sorrow cause your eye color to light up, when there was nothing bright about the tears that filled them?

  Our eyes locked, and he immediately filled the distance between us with his body, crawling on the floor to lie next to me. He pulled me into his chest and wrapped his arms around my quaking shoulders, rubbing soft circles on my back. With my head against his chest, I could feel his own sobs wreck his body. I could hear his gasps of breath in my ear as he buried his face in my shoulder.

  I caused this pain he felt.

  “I’m so sorry, Donnie,” I cried into his shirt, feeling the soaked material against my face.

  “Why didn’t you come to me? Why didn’t you tell me? You should have never had to deal with that on your own. Why, Edie?” He never once pulled away to look at me, only sobbed his painful questions into me.

  “I didn’t want to hurt you.” It came out as more of a whisper, a quiet admission. I knew he didn’t understand, and part of me wanted to let him believe what he wanted, but the agony that swarmed me wouldn’t let me. I’d already caused too much pain…I couldn’t afford more.

  His entire body shook against mine as he cried harder and harder. His hold on me grew tighter with each sob that tore through him. “I would have been there for you. We could’ve healed together.”

  “You don’t understand, Donnie,” I wailed, covering my face with my hands and muffling my words. “I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t have another baby. I wasn’t strong enough. I couldn’t do it,” I cried over and over again, feeling his body loosen around me until there was nothing but space between us.

  He forced me to look at him, his eyes narrowed on me as he slowly shook his head back and forth, not believing what he’d heard. He leaned back more, creating even more space between us, causing the air to feel cold against my skin. “You didn’t have a miscarriage?”

  I couldn’t answer, I couldn’t speak or move. I was frozen against the floor in the kitchen, feeling more alone than I ever had before. Donnie sat a foot away from me, but he might as well not have been there. The way he looked at me—desperately pleading for me to give him something—made something inside die. My hope died. My dreams died.

  My heart died.

  It took every ounce of strength to shake my head, attempting to give him an answer, but unable to utter a single word of confirmation. My eyes stung with the flood of tears that poured out of them, burning my skin as they fell.

  Donnie backed away even more until his back slammed against the cabinet behind him. The sudden noise was enough to make me jump, yet he didn’t seem to register it at all. His eyes blinked rapidly at me as his hands fisted in his hair.

  “Where’s my baby, Idelette? Where is my baby?” He was frantic, yelling, crying, sobs ripping from his chest as he silently pleaded for me to give him the answer he desperately searched for. “Who has my baby?” His voice calmed to almost a whisper spoken through the cries of a man in dire pain. “Please, Edie,” he begged with wide eyes, “tell me where my baby is.”

  I couldn’t bear to look at him any longer, seeing the disgust in his eyes as they pierced mine. My palms covered my face as I let go of the pain that threatened to take me under. I’d gladly let it take me. I no longer wanted to feel anything. The pain was too much to handle.

  “Please, Edie. Please tell me,” he continued to cry, not once reaching out to me as if he already knew the answer. “Who has my baby?”

  “No one,” I croaked out, the words burning like acid as they came out.

  An agonizing howl rang out, followed by the word “no” being repeated over and over again. I couldn’t move. I could only remain in my curled up position on the floor with my arms covering my head as I cried. I cried for Donnie and the pain I’d caused him. I cried for me, for the life I could’ve had. And I cried for the baby I’d never know. The baby Donnie would never know.

  Suddenly, a quietness filled the room, only interrupted by a few sniffles.

  “I can’t look at you anymore. I don’t even know who you are.” And then the sounds of feet padding across the tile faded away as Donnie walked away from me, leaving me alone on the floor. Leaving me with nothing but my own pain, my own tears, and my own painful memories.

  I wanted to die in that moment. I wanted to give up. It wasn’t because Donnie walked away or even because I knew my marriage was over with no chance of saving it. It had nothing to do with him. I wanted to close my eyes and never open them again because of my own guilt. The guilt that I had carried around with me for two years. The guilt that refused to let
me fully release the pain of my actions and learn to live again. It was dark, heavy, and consuming as it took hold of me, dragging me further into the depths of grief. I had no one to blame but myself. No matter how many times Jan had told me it had been no one’s fault, I refused to believe it. It was my fault, all of it.

  Time didn’t register to me as I lay on the floor, suffering alone, but eventually, I found enough strength to pull myself up. I forced myself to stand, knowing I couldn’t stay there forever. I couldn’t allow my kids to see me that way.

  I made my way down the hall, slowly dragging my feet, feeling as if my body had moved on autopilot. I wasn’t in control of my movements as I found my way to the foot of the stairs and gazed up to the top. My family was up there. My children, my husband. I stood stoically still as I watched and waited for something—anything. I needed some direction as to where to go, not trusting myself with the decision.

  A cry came from the end of the hall and I knew it was Donnie, crying from the pain I had inflicted upon him because I’d been too weak to do the right thing. I wanted to go to him, but I had no right. I stole something from him, something he viewed as precious, and I could never give it back. I could make up for a lot of the mistakes I’d made in my past, but not that one. I’d never be able to make that one right.

  “I love you bunches and bunches and more and more,” I whispered, knowing no one could hear me. I wanted to believe that my children knew that, that I loved them with everything I possessed, and that my one selfish action didn’t take that away. But believing something didn’t mean I’d convinced myself of it.

  I turned and walked to the front door, not bothering to grab anything, not even shoes for my feet. I didn’t need anything. I was worthless and didn’t deserve anything. My fingers grabbed onto the door handle and turned it, yet I couldn’t feel anything. My entire body had been numbed by the pain. It left me feeling like a zombie, going through the motions but not understanding any of it.

  It wasn’t until I was a little ways down the street, no longer able to see the house in the darkness, before I could finally begin to feel something—the aching in my bare feet as they padded along the harsh road. I didn’t care how cut up my feet were, how much they bled, how much physical pain I’d feel the next day, because nothing could compare to what I felt at that moment, knowing my life was over.