Page 114 of The Has-Been

Straight to voicemail.

Shit. Why isn’t he answering?

I pace back and forth on his porch, sinking to my knees, as I so easily lose hope. I cover my face with my hands as I sit in the frigid mid-winter temperatures, shivering uncontrollably.

Just when I think I can’t wait another moment, I find Liam running down the road, his hoodie pulled up against the cold, his back to me.

The same man who thought he’d never be able to run again.

And sure, I could wait for him here. But I don’t.

No, I go after him.

“LIAM!” I yell.

But he’s fast, sprinting further and further away from me, earphones likely blasting music, making it impossible for him to hear me.

My lungs burn as I sprint, the pregnancy test still clutched in my hand. It’s only now that I’m questioning why I brought it in the first place.

I’m closing in on him, which is crazy because I’m not a cardio girl, and I’m still fighting the nausea coiling inside me.

Liam still hasn’t noticed me, though. I keep running regardless; it’s my turn to chase after him anyway.

Liam finally looks over his shoulder before crossing the road, allowing him to see he’s not alone and that I’m desperately chasing after him—just seconds before I lose my footing and I fall forward. I fall hard to the ground, rolling in pain, clutching my back on the snow-covered road.

“What the hell, Aubrey?” Liam calls. His headphones must have fallen out because “Comeback Story” by Kings of Leon is now blasting from his phone’s speaker.

I’m still on the ground when I see him bend down to pick something up.

The test.

I swallow. I guess that is one way to do this.

He picks it up, looking at it intently.

“Why do you have a negative pregnancy test?” he asks slowly, walking over to me.

My chest is heaving. I try to tell myself it’s from the running—but I know it’s not.

It’s more than time I stop lying.

“I don’t want silence.” I breathlessly say, shaking my head, trying to find my feet. “I want laughter. I want noise.” I try to explain, heaving a deep sigh that sinks my shoulders. “You were my noise, Liam. The music I danced to. I sang too. And then you got so quiet.”

He looks away.

“And I couldn’t take it.” I blow my breath out. I can do this, I tell myself.

He looks down at the test, again, then back up. Liam’s eyes go soft.

I think he’s figured it out. But I want to say it.

I need to say it.

“We were gonna be parents, Liam. I was pregnant.” My lips curl inward as he takes a slow step toward me. “But…But I lost our baby. About a week before the overdose. That night I tried to wake you up—” I can’t read the expression on his face. And it’s killing me.

I blow out a shaky breath, hands trembling at my sides.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you. I’m sorry I kept you from grieving just because I was. I’m sorry I kept the truth from you.” I swallow. “I didn’t think you deserved to know. But you did. I’m so sorry I didn’t see that. I’m sorry I didn’t see you—that you were still there. Just muted, struggling in a way I know I might never understand. But I want to. If you’ll let me…”