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We had come so far in the last year and a half. We hadn’t fixed everything, and we still went to therapy, but we were happy. I kept trying to imagine us both as parents. What would I teach him or her? Who would they look like? I was hoping that our girls would look like her; had her smile.
“Stop looking at me like that.” She laughed, kicking her feet at me.
“This is how I always look at you,” I replied, grabbing hold of her legs and kissing her thighs. “And I was thinking of names for our son, Brendan.”
“Brendan Callahan? It sounds so boring and simple.”
“Well excuse me, what names do you have in mind?”
“Our first kid is going to be girl.” She laughed.
“Sorry, baby. Callahan swimmers seem to only produce males.”
Before she could respond, the door opened. I stood up as the doctor walked in.
“Please don’t make us wait another second. We’re both going crazy here.” She smiled up at him, taking my hand.
However something felt odd. The doctor before us didn’t smile, he looked as though he was in pain. Like he didn’t want to break our hearts. When he frowned, I felt her try to pull her hand away.
“We’re not pregnant,” she said slowly, trying not cry. “I’m sorry we wasted your time, we were just excited. I think we should just go.”
“Mrs. Callahan, can you answer some questions for me?” he said to us. We both froze, staring at one another before looking back at him.
“Why? We aren’t pregnant, right?” I asked.
He shook his head. “No, I’m sorry, you’re not pregnant. But we did find something else in our tests that raised some questions.”
“What?”
“We found that you have abnormally high levels of CA 125. From there, we ran a few other tests…” He paused, and took a deep breath as if readying himself.
“The high levels of this protein suggest that there is a form of antigen that exists. It has symptoms that led you to falsely believe you were pregnant. There is a high chance that the antigen is attacking parts of your reproductive system. You explained earlier to the nurse that you have been feeling tired, experiencing abdominal pains as well lower back pains, these symptoms can be a sign of stress, other physical activities, or—”
“Just spit it out already,” I snapped; he was going to make her panic.
He seemed to pause to collect his breath, as if reading himself for another long-winded speech. “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Callahan, but such levels of CA 125 leads us to believe that there is a possibility that you may have a cancerous growth in your body. There are other reasons for such high levels of CA 125, but seeing as you are young and not premenopausal, it’s my professional opinion that these markers are evidence of ovarian cancer. There are other tests—” The moment he uttered his damning opinion, she stumbled back as if he had slapped her across the face. She grabbed hold of the bed, trying to catch her breath.
“Mrs. Callahan, there are procedures and tests…”
“GET OUT!” I roared at him, causing him to stumble. He was the cause of her upset, her unhappiness. All rational thought left me as he stumbled feebly to the door. I didn’t care that he had the unfortunate job of delivering such news to us, it didn’t matter that it was his job to do so, all I saw was him talking and as a result, my wife, my purpose for living, seemingly being ripped in two right before my very eyes. He was right to leave. I was feeling the irrational urge to make Coraline smile, as she was ten minutes ago, through any means necessary.
One of those means may have included carving his face from his body.
I stepped towards my wife, holding her tightly and hoping for some way to carry all of this burden. I didn’t care that marriage was supposed to be a fifty-fifty deal, when it came to anything that hurt my wife, I’d carry all of the burden without a thought.
“Coraline. Coraline, baby, breathe.” I held onto her, but she just kept sobbing, until her knees went out and we were both on the floor.
“I’m so sorry,” she cried into my shirt.
Biting on my lips, I fought my own tears; she didn’t need that from me, not now.
“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for, baby. We’re going to fight this,” I whispered, kissing her head. “We’re going to fight this and win.”
She only cried harder, and I lost the battle against my tears as they started to stream down my face.
Fifteen minutes ago, we were thinking about baby names, laughing, happy, dying to hear two little words: you’re pregnant. Now I was trying my best not to think about funerals, or about losing her, my reason for living.
Staring up at the flickering lights, I found myself speaking to God, truly speaking to him for the first time in what felt like forever.
If you think you can take her away from me without a fight, you’re fucking mistaken. She will not die from this; I won’t let her.
TWENTY-FOUR
“Life, although it may only be an accumulation of anguish, is dear to me, and I will defend it.”
—Mary Shelley
LIAM
“This is breaking and unprecedented news. Only hours after Senator Colemen’s all-white charity ball and Melody Callahan’s hospitalization, First Lady Julie Monroe was arrested and charged with treason and the murder of her husband, President Monroe. Thus, making her the first woman to ever have a hand in the assassination of a U.S. President. The FBI claims they were given an anonymous tip with undoubtable proof of her involvement. First Lady Julie Monroe only days ago vowed to run in her husband’s place for this year’s coming election. This is all very confusing and honestly unfathomable. But stay tuned. We hope to keep you updated on…”
“Are you eating my Jell-O?” Mel whispered, trying to open her eyes.
Staring at the cup in my hands, I frowned. “I thought you hated Jell-O.”
“You thought wrong, now hand it over.” She reached forward, taking the cup from my hands and eating a spoonful.
“How are you feeling?” I asked.
“Like I’ve been in bed too long…and hungry,” she muttered, scarfing down the little that was left in the small cup.
“Sixteen hours of sleep will do that to you.” Reaching over to her bedside, I grabbed the second cup I had conned the nurse out of from her tray. She watched my hand before taking my Jell-O once again. “Sixteen hours? Why in the hell would you let me sleep that long?”
“You haven’t had a good sleep in days. Besides, there was nothing for you to do anyway.” If I had woken her, she would have killed me.
She stopped mid-bite, glaring at me. “In our line of work there is always something to do. So the real question is, what have you been doing?”
All I could do was roll my eyes at her and turn up the volume of the television.
“People all over the world are still reeling over the arrest of First Lady Julie Monroe. It was only hours ago that the FBI announced that the First Lady was arrested in connection with President Monroe’s murder. From what we’ve been told, it took only one anonymous tip to unravel this national tragedy…”
“You tipped them off?” she asked.
“No, I tipped off your mole. He deserves a raise, don’t you think? Catching the President’s killer is a huge step up,” I replied, dialing Declan for what had to be the ninth time.
