Page 107 of Inseparable
I can’t move. I’m frozen in horror, sitting there in absolute shock as her words filter in and out of my ears. A pang of sorrow and grief consumes me. I’m feeling all manner of things as Ange softly sobs beside me. I want to pull her into my side, to crush my arms around her and ease her pain, but I can’t.
Today has been exhaustive, and I’m drained. I worked hard to rein in my anger during the session, but I’m not strong enough to keep a leash on it now. My God. No wonder she was in such a bad place when I found her. She’s spent the best part of the last five years believing she killed two people she loved. While I’m upset she had to go through that alone, she had no right to cut me out.
It was my baby too.
“Did the doctors say it was connected to your drinking?” I inquire, not bothering to soften my gruff tone.
She shakes her head, sniffling. “They said he had a congenital heart defect, but I’ve always believed they said that to relieve my guilt. It’s like I’m cursed, or maybe that was God’s way of punishing me for Ayden.”
“Why didn’t you call me? I had a right to know.”
Wrapping her arms around her waist, she hugs herself, rocking gently back and forth on the bench. It hurts to see her like this, but I can’t comfort her. My own pain won’t allow it. A mounting sense of futility is growing inside me. “I picked up the phone to call you so many times,” she tearfully admits. “When I first discovered I was pregnant, my initial thought was to hop on a plane and jump into your arms, but I couldn’t make myself do it.” I close my eyes as she speaks, struggling to get a grip on my emotions. “I cried after every prenatal appointment. It always felt so wrong that you weren’t there with me. I promised myself I’d tell you after he was born. That I wouldn’t keep your child from you.”
She breaks down, crying so pitifully it almost tears me apart, but I still don’t reach out to touch her. “When he was stillborn, I cried nonstop for a whole day. I wouldn’t let the doctors take him. I kept him close to my chest, and I hugged him all night until I had to let him go. I couldn’t call you then. I couldn’t tell you I’d failed you again. When they lowered his little coffin into the ground, I wanted to throw myself in after him. Another part of me died with Devin Junior that day.”
I don’t realize I’m crying until I turn to look at her, and I can barely see her through my tears. “You named him after me?” I croak.
She nods. “I had to name him so they could issue a birth and death certificate. Of course, I was going to name him after his daddy.”
Something shatters inside me. I jump up on shaky legs. My entire body is suffused with stress. “I can’t believe you shut me out of that. You had no right!” I yell, drawing fearful looks from a couple of girls passing by. “How could you not tell me? How could you think it would be okay to deny me all that? I should’ve been there with you! I should’ve been by your side for every appointment and holding your hand as you gave birth. I deserved to hold him too! I never even got that chance. You stole that from me too!”
Pounding footsteps approach. Ange is sitting rigidly still, silent tears coursing down her cheeks.
“You fucking left me! You tricked me and then you left. You didn’t just punish yourself that day. You fucking punished me too, and I’ve been in this hell with you all these years. I may look more together on the outside, but you aren’t the only one who’s been hurting. And now this!” I fling my hands in the air, as Dr. Bennett cautiously approaches with two security guards. “I can’t believe you kept your pregnancy from me. I can’t believe you went through it alone.” The level of despair and heartache I feel is incomparable to any other time in my life, and that’s saying a lot. The security guard takes my arm. “I need to escort you off the premises, Mr. Morgan.”
I shuck his arm away. “No need. I’m going.”
“Devin, please. I’m sorry!” Ange calls after me, but I don’t stop, don’t look back, sprinting toward my car. I get in, thrust the stick into gear, and floor it out of there, my heart torn asunder as I make the trip home.
I stare at the bottle of JD on my kitchen counter for a solid half hour, battling an internal enemy. The devil on my shoulder urges me to take a sip.Just one sip. One sip won’t hurt. One sip doesn’t count. You deserve it. She lied to you again.
I drop to the floor, pulling my knees into my chest, and sob like I haven’t sobbed since I was a little kid. When my tears dry, I call Michael. He’s a retired cop and an alcoholic like me. He’s been my sponsor since I started going to AA meetings, and I need him to help talk me off the ledge.
After our call, I empty the whiskey down the sink and toss the bottle in the trash. I need answers, and I won’t find them at the bottom of a bottle. I pick up my cell, punching in the familiar number. Nate answers on the first ring. “I need your help,” I tell him, and I start explaining.
A week goes by, and the craving for booze hasn’t dissipated, but I have managed to maintain control.
I didn’t attend the second session with Ange, and Dr. Bennett has been blowing up my phone. I’m still so fucking angry with her, but my heart hurts for her too—for enduring that all alone, for believing she had to suffer on her own.
I can’t wrap my head around the fact I was a father, and I didn’t even know it. I wonder what he looked like. Whether he had my eyes or her cute dimple. I’ll never know. I can’t ever get that time back, and I honestly don’t know if I can look at her the same for depriving me of the opportunity to hold my own child.
We’re such different people now, and I wonder if too much has happened for us to ever be happy.
Anger at Ayden has resurrected too, and I can’t help blaming him. His suicide set all this in motion. If he was here, I’d boot his selfish ass all over town. But he’s not, and I need to make some decisions. And fast. Ange is due to be released tomorrow, and I’m supposed to be picking her up.
I’m still undecided the next day, pacing the floor restlessly, warring with myself. “Fuck it!” I grab my keys, glancing at the clock and racing out of my rented apartment. I’m thirty minutes late pulling up to the front entrance, and Ange is just about to set foot in a taxi. I call out to her, and she whips her chin up. Leaving the engine running, I run to the taxi, thrusting a fifty at the driver. “Thanks, but I’ve got it.”
Her expression is impressively calm as she walks to the trunk and removes her case. I take it from her without a word, lingering as she wraps Dr. Bennett in a big hug. The doctor shoots me a cautionary look, and I get it. I’m supposed to be supporting her recovery, not making things worse, but I can’t shut my feelings off. This is a bolt out of the blue, and it’s totally shattered me.
We don’t speak as we drive to her old apartment. I follow her up the stairs and into her place. “Where’s Scott?” she asks, running her fingers along the thick layer of dust on top of the table.
“In prison,” I confirm. She stares at me, willing me to elaborate. “He assaulted a police officer, and he was physically abusive to you in public. Nate wasn’t the only witness. He’s gone away for twenty months.”
She purses her lips. “I guess I should feel something hearing that, but I don’t feel anything.” Leaning back against the table, she folds her arms, scrutinizing my face. “It’s okay if you hate me. I understand why, and you don’t need to hang around. I’ve made my decision. I’m going home to see Mom, and I’m going to get my life back on track. You’ve done more than enough, and I won’t ask you for anything else. I can take it from here.”
“I don’t hate you. Maybe it’d be easier if I did.” I press my knuckles against my brow. “But I’m still pissed at you, and I’m still processing.”
She nods before walking off. I hear her rummaging around in her room, and then she returns with a battered, faded blue box. She drops down on the couch, patting the space beside her. “Sit with me?”
