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“No. God sent you there that night. You were a blessing she didn’t know she needed. Thank you for making sure she had a place to lay her head. Why did you come back?”
I shrugged. “She was weighing heavy on my heart. I needed to make sure she was okay.”
She nodded. “She’s not doing well. She won’t open the door for me, and when I use my key, she’s just been lying in bed. She won’t talk. I don’t think she’s eaten. I’ve been sending food to her room, which always comes back untouched. She suffers from depression and anxiety. It started after her parents died in a car accident. Then she had a few miscarriages, and when she lost her son, it just spiraled. Being in that house with that man... He just wasn’t good for her mental health.”
My heart went out to her. So many major losses, one right after the other, and now to be hit with a cheating husband and his pregnant mistress... I could see why she wouldn’t get out of bed. Part of me wanted to go to her room to comfort her, but that wouldn’t be wise. I didn’t know her, and she didn’t know me. The exchange might have been awkward, and I knew I couldn’t stay away from her if I took it that far.
“She’s in my prayers,” I said. “Can I leave you with my number? She has it, but I know she won’t contact me. If she needs anything, please let me know.”
“You can leave your number, but why would you go through so much trouble for a stranger?”
“Because I know what it’s like to feel helpless. Maybe not in the sense that she does, but I get it. Everybody needs somebody.”
She smiled. “I can tell you were raised on love.” She grabbed my hands. “Thank you for being a good person.”
She pulled me into a hug, and for a moment, I stood frozen. There was the touching thing again. Luckily, it was brief. She handed me her phone, and I programmed my number in. We then headed back up front and said our goodbyes before I left the hotel, praying that Pasha would be receptive to the help her friend would give her.
Chapter Five
Pasha
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Sinclaire... There’s no heartbeat.”
I stared at the monitor, willing it to move... to make a sound... something. I needed them to be wrong. My poor, sweet, innocent baby was gone. His life was snatched from him before it could even begin.
“Check it again!” I pleaded.
“I have,” the doctor said. “I’ve checked it three times.”
“He can’t be... He can’t be gone. I just felt him moving last night.” Tears poured down my face as I tried to come to terms with this heartbreaking reality. “Please... Tell me this is a mistake.”
She squeezed my hand as she gave me a sympathetic look. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. We have to induce you.”
I began to cry harder. I was eight and a half months pregnant. She just told me my son was dead, and now I had to deliver him. Not only that, but I also had to go home without him. Beside me, Raymond rubbed my back, not muttering a word. I couldn’t tell if he was as upset as I was, but he didn’t show any emotion. He didn’t offer me any further condolences. After three miscarriages, we were finally supposed to have our bundle of joy. Now, that dream was back to what it was... a dream.
“Can I hold him?” I asked through my tears.
“Of course. You can take all the time you need. We have a bereavement program where you can take pictures with your baby to take home. We find sometimes it offers comfort. We’re here for whatever you need, Mrs. Sinclaire.”
I nodded, although no source of comfort could ever ease the pain I was feeling. My child was gone...
I sat straight up, gasping for air. My body was covered in sweat, and I struggled to breathe. I hadn’t dreamed of my baby in a while, and now, the memories came flooding back. Scrambling from the bed, I ran over to my suitcases and the trash bags, dumping everything out. I frantically searched until I found the locked box that housed the only memories I had of my son and my parents. Using the key I had on a chain around my neck, I opened it to make sure Raymond left everything inside. I prayed he wasn’t vindictive enough to tamper with it.
I sighed with relief when I found everything as I left it. If something happened to this, I would have lost it. Closing the box, I sat back on my haunches, clutching it to my chest. Burying my face in my hand, I cried for what seemed like the millionth time. I just wanted to fall apart.
“God give me strength...” I whispered. “I don’t know if I can make it through this with my sanity.”
Other than getting up to pee, I’d lay in this bed for the last four days. I hadn’t taken my medication. I hadn’t showered. I hadn’t brushed my teeth or washed my face. I’d gotten a total of maybe eight hours of sleep in the last seventy-two hours. My stomach cramped because I hadn’t eaten, and I was beginning to smell myself. I physically did not have the energy to deal with life.
Avyn had been coming by, and all I wanted her to do was leave me alone. I understood her concern. I understood she wanted to be there for me, but I just didn’t know how to accept that right now. I depended on someone for the last twenty-eight years. First, it was my parents and then my husband. My parents were dead, and my husband was leaving me. At some point, I had to learn to stand on my own two feet.
The last thing I wanted to do was get out of bed, but I needed to get myself together. If I lay here, my two free weeks would be up, and my situation would only be worse. I was so tired... so drained... so fucking done. But all I had now was me. I could either sink or swim. After saying a quick prayer, I stood and placed the box beside the dresser to prepare for whatever kind of day I was about to have.
Rummaging through my things, I found something to wear before heading into the bathroom. I turned on the water, then stripped out of the robe I’d been wearing for four days. I avoided the mirror because I didn’t want to see the pitiful mess looking back at me. Stepping into the hot shower, I embraced the heat and steam.
I closed my eyes and basked in the soothing stream of water raining down on me. My body was stiff from lying down for so long. I knew I couldn’t allow myself to get like this again... I couldn’t afford to. With my eyes closed, I began praying for strength, clarity, perseverance, and understanding. I had to believe that God had a greater plan for my life than this. There was something better waiting for me. I just had to climb over this stumbling block.
Opening my eyes, I grabbed my washcloth and body wash to give myself a good lather. Once I was done, I thoroughly washed my hair before applying the leave-in conditioner. My natural curls rejoiced at finally getting the TLC they so desperately needed. My depression was crippling. At times, it was a struggle to manage self-care. I knew I needed to get myself together, and I was trying, but damn, it was hard.
