Long Lost Everything - A Leaving Sequel

Chapter Three: The Woman in the Mirror

A week had passed since Julie rediscovered the hidden baby clothes. Michael knew that she had looked at them again due to how haphazardly she had put them back. Any attempt he made to talk to her about it swiftly turned into an arguement. Usually it was Michael who stormed out after one of their fights; but lately it had been Julie who left.

"Julie you need to talk about it. It's not good to repress your emotions."
"I'm not repressing anything, Michael. I told you after it happened that I never wanted to discuss it." Julie busied herself by hanging up their clothes in the closet, just so she didn't have to face her husband.
Michael shook his head in bewilderment, "you can't even say it."
"Michael I'm not in the mood." She said bluntly.
"No, you're never going to 'be in the mood', are you?!"
"Drop it, Michael."
"Say it, Julie. Say what happened."
Julie refused to respond. Michael stomped over to the dresser, he opened the bottom drawer and rifled through the sweaters.
"Michael stop!" Julie's voice caught in her throat.
Michael then pulled out the baby clothes. Holding them up to his wife's face, he demanded, 'Say it! Acknowledge what happened Julie! If you don't, it's going to eat away at you!"
Julie did her best to control herself. She always did. But seeing the tiny garments made her crack. She swung at Michael, scratching his face. He dropped the clothes and gripped Julie's wrists tightly, tugging her close to him, "You don't ever raise your hand to me! Who the hell do you think you are?! I'm trying to help you, Julie!"
"I don't need help!" Julie spat in Michael's face.
He smacked her, knocking her to the floor. Julie touched the side of her face. Her cheek burned, and the noise of the slap rang in her ears.

Once the shock had left her system, she stood up and gathered the little clothes in her arms. Straightening her posture and composing herself the best she possibly could in that moment, she said rather calmly, "I had a miscarriage, Michael. There. I said it. Are you happy now?"

She made her way downstairs and outside to the side of their house, where some large bins sat. With Michael swiftly following her every step. He watched as his wife disposed of the deceased baby's clothes.
"Jules..." Michael said gently.
"Don't," she spoke sternly - but quietly. The neighbours had already heard enough of them screaming at each other over the last few months. She didn't want to give them another thing to gossip about, "do not call me that." Michael hadn't called her Jules since before they were married, "what happened, happened. It's in the past. There's nothing we can to about it, so we may as well just move on and forget about the whole ordeal," she shrugged her shoulders, "I was only pregnant for four months," she bit her lip - holding back what she really wanted to tell Michael,"so... it's like I wasn't even pregnant at all."

Julie trudged up to their bedroom. Sitting on the edge of the bed, with her phone in her hands, she texted Angela:

Angela I need a night out. You up for it?

It's a bit late notice Julie. Everything OK?

I'm fine. Just need to get out of the house for a couple hours.

You coming or not?

Sure but I need time to get ready.

I'll be at yours in an hour.

And with that, Julie hopped in the shower, attempting to scrub away any negativity from her fight with Michael.

She sat in front of the mirror in her bedroom. Jesus, she thought as she traced her fingers over the lines on her face, how long have I had all these wrinkles? They make me look so old... Julie's heart sank to the bottom of her stomach, Oh God... I'm 45 next week. I am old.

She quietly pondered her life; thinking back on her younger years. Smiling to herself as she recalled her rave girl days. She had continued attending raves even after she met Michael. He didn't approve of her going out four, five, six nights in a row. He desperately wanted her to stop. Always trying to talk her out of going:

"It's bad for you health, Julie. You're going to drink yourself to death! I don't even know half the things you get up to at these parties!"

"They're raves, Michael!"

"Exactly! I've heard terrifying things about those raves. Don't people do drugs at raves?!"

"Some do, yeah."

"Jules..."

"Well... I don't!"

She refused to stop. Even after she and Michael had married. She only stopped when she found out she was pregnant with Dean; and yet, Julie found herself slipping back into her old ways some time after he was born.

It was only when she had started working at the hotel as a porter, and when she became pregnant with Maxine, did she cease clubbing. She realised that she was getting older, and that she couldn't keep going out and getting into a drunken stupor six times a week for the rest of her life. Since then, Julie had become an entirely different person; doting over her children, being an attentive wife (until, of course, Aaron came along), working her ass off at the hotel - picking up extra shifts every chance she could to get more experience, and working her way up the ladder to where she is now.

Julie had substituted the nightlife in favour of micro-managing every single aspect of her life. And only now - at almost 45 - did she realise how miserable it had made her.