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I’m empty and hollow inside. I don’t pay attention as we’re driving. I’m trying to remember how to breathe.
It’s just me now. Just me and this child I need to bring to term. I need to do anything and everything I can to make sure that happens.
Bed rest.
Good food.
Water.
Vitamins.
I list them all from rote memory, trying to will myself back to a place where I can feel confident and productive and centered.
But I can’t do it.
I think I sleep a little on the ride.
I had prepared myself for life without Lyam. I had convinced myself I could be a single mother and be resilient and capable and strong. And I still know I can. But the loss of him after what we’ve been throughburns.It hurts so badly.
I wish I could believe there was hope for us, but everything feels so hopeless.
Yes, I should have told him the truth before it was too late. Now he’s done the very thing I feared from the beginning.
Somehow, some way, I end up at the apartment he’s planned for me.
The apartment they bring me to is clean and simple and functional, but lacks any interior decoration. The clean lines seem vacant, and even though the bed is made up with luxury sheets and a gorgeous comforter, it feels empty in here.
There’s no Lyam.
He secured this place before he rejected me, back when he thought he loved me, but sending me here now was a quick decision he likely made on the fly. Still, he’s taken care to make sure I have what I need here.
I open the fridge and note it’s stocked with my favorite things, even though I have no appetite. I find my prenatal vitamins, my favorite sparkling water, even light-blocking window shades and a state-of-the-art sound system. It’s beautiful and luxurious but feels barren.
I lay down on the sofa and glance at the clock. My only hope is that after Lyam’s burned off some energy, he comes back more centered and focused and ready to listen to the truth.
But as time ticks by, I begin to wonder.
Did he tell me a lie?
Did he only placate me?
After three hours pass with no Lyam, I begin to get angry.
Doesn’t he know that sometimes you have to do things you don’t want to do? Doesn’t he know that affiliation with someone doesn’t necessarily mean actually being in cahoots with them?
Does he really love me, or does he only love theideaof me?
I have my answer when Lyam doesn’t come at all.
* * *
SEVENTEEN
Lyam
I openmy eyes and for a minute think I’m dreaming again.
Because this is where I come in my sleep. Dark walls. The smell of must and urine and the squeals of rats. The prison of my dreams.
