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‘The only place he let me go was work. The café I worked in became my sanctuary. Then, one day, like I told you, I ended up working in a branch in London, and I met Edmond. He was kind and honest. It was as if he saw right through me, like he could see that I was trapped.’
I think of Edmond last night in Paddy’s, and I feel like a dick for challenging him.
‘After I started working for Edmond, I was commuting in and out of London, and it meant I spent a lot of time out of the house. Over time, Mike got angry about it. He started talking about children and saying I should stay home. Rather than telling him I didn’t want to have children with him, I told him I should keep my job, for money to help our family.’ She wipes another tear and drains the drink in her glass. Then she looks me in the eye, as if she’s building courage. ‘I got pregnant.’
I try not to react outwardly, though everything in my body is screaming at me.
‘I’m sorry to disturb you. Will you be dining with us this evening?’ We look to the waitress, accept menus. For my part, I’m grateful for a short break to get my head straight. I don’t know what I was expecting, but it definitely wasn’t this.
I barely take in the menu, selecting dishes I probably won’t even eat. My mind is awash with thoughts of Becky, babies, her being hurt.
The waitress takes our order and leads us to a table. Whether she took her cue from Becky’s red eyes, or just has good intuition, she places us in a secluded table in a dimly lit corner.
Becky gives me a meek smile and thanks the waitress. Before she sits, I place a hand on the small of her back. I’m terrified of what comes next in the story, but she’s hurting more than me, and I can’t stand it.
I move my table chair from opposite her until we’re adjacent. The waitress adjusts our place settings, and the sommelier brings a bottle of wine. We both take a drink, our silence unbroken.
‘Becky, you don’t have to tell me more if you don’t want to.’
‘I don’t want to, Drew. That’s why I didn’t. But in not telling you, I risked everything. I might still. But you flew to London to hear what I’m keeping from you. The least I can do is be honest with you now. And…’
‘And what?’
‘And hope that… you’ll still want me.’
I want to tell her I can’t imagine a circumstance in which I wouldn’t want her, but the words don’t come because they’re locked behind fear. Fear of what she might tell me.
She looks away and runs her fingers around the base of her wineglass. ‘I had an accident one night. I left work. It was dark. I slipped down the steps at the underground station.’ Her face contorts as she fights back sobs. I take her hand beneath the table, and she grips me tightly. ‘I lost the baby.’
A slow, unsteady breath leaves me. ‘I’m sorry.’
I’m not sorry that she doesn’t have someone else’s child, but I’m sorry that she lost her baby.
She pulls her hand from mine and sniffs, pressing the corner of her napkin to her eyes.
‘Drew, I… When it happened… I felt relieved. What kind of person does that make me?’
My throat is dry, and I have no words. All I can do is watch her pain.
‘I would have loved that baby. It would have been mine, and I would have given it everything I could. But, when I miscarried, it was like a second chance. It was as if something woke up inside me. I knew I couldn’t bring a life into the world with someone like Mike. I knew I wanted to be stronger. To be a better person. Otherwise, I’d never be able to show my child how to be strong. The night I lost the baby was the one and only time he hit me. I left.’
I don’t know what makes me lean in and kiss her, but I do. I hold her face and keep her lips pressed to mine, smoothing her hair as she cries against me. When she calms, she kisses me back.
I allow myself to hope.
She holds my hands when she separates from me. ‘I was afraid to tell you. I thought you would think I’m a monster.’
‘I don’t think you’re a monster, Becky. I think you’re strong. I think you’re amazing.’
‘Drew, you… you know a different version of me. I started to become the person I wanted to be in New York. Then I met you, and for the first time ever, I felt wanted. You make me feel confident and attractive. I didn’t want to lie to you, but I didn’t want you to know the old me. The weak me. I just wanted to be Becky. The Becky you know. I wanted you to see my wings.’
‘I see your wings, Becky. And I want to be your roots too. I’ll never try to control you. I never want you to be anyone other than who you want to be. But I’d like to be by your side.’
Her tears come again but they merge with a happy laugh and she presses her smile to my mouth. ‘I’d like that.’
When we break our connection, she digs her teeth into her lip.
‘What is it?’ I ask.
