Chapter 7

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Chris spent two weeks with me in Boston and then we both flew to LA so he could get back to work on 'Many a Splendid Thing'. I still felt sad most of the time. I started seeing my therapist. The hospital called with the tests they'd run saying our baby had been a boy. That it was just one of those genetic abnormalities that happen. One in four chance. Don't blame yourself. You can try again in four weeks if you want to.

None of that helped. I was broken. I was pregnant and excited and now I wasn't either of those things.

Chris seemed to move on faster than me. Not that I resented that. I know he was devastated. I think he was just better at compartmentalising than I was. He had work to do. He needed to do it. I on the other hand had nothing now. Except him. I started putting the next steps in place for me to have work in Boston. I needed something.

The tabloids were harsh. There was a lot of speculation over what procedure I'd just had. They seemed to think it was probably plastic surgery. The 'fans' seemed to like to think I'd had an abortion because I'd cheated on him before the wedding.

We went back to Boston for Christmas. Being around Chris' family was a weird sort of torture. Carly said she was pregnant again. Seeing Chris with Miles and Ethan. All the 'we're so sorry's and 'it will happen's killed me. Then when I just went to Chris' room and slept I felt guilty. It was like there was no right move for me. I was destined to be miserable.

I went in for a follow up exam in LA after six weeks. Chris was still filming, so it made sense to just be living there for the time being. I had them put a birth control implant back in. I wasn't ready to try again and I wanted to make sure that it only happened on my own terms. Chris went with me and the look of disappointment on his face when I said that's what I wanted to do. We hadn't been talking about it. I just found it too hard. Anytime someone even said baby it made me break down.

We got home and I went and collapsed on the couch face down. Chris made sandwiches for us and brought them out on a tray with tea. East tried to get up on the couch with me, but couldn't quite do it. Chris lifted him so he was on my legs.

"What's going on, buddy?" He said, scratching East's head.

"He's slowing down. Aren't ya, pal. You're an old dogger." I said, reaching behind me and patting him.

"Fuck." Chris said. He flopped down on the recliner.

"What's wrong? I asked, rolling over and looking at him.

"Just, don't want to think about that." He muttered. "Fuck."

I slipped my legs out from under East and got up, climbing into Chris' lap. "He's probably got lots of years to go. I know death is kind of right at the front of our minds, but he's old. You can be old for a long time."

"Emily. Do you not want to try to have kids again?" Chris asked.

I started at the sudden change of subject. "Of course I do. I want us to have kids more than anything. But I'm not ready now. How can you be ready yet?"

He shook his head. "I - I dunno. I guess I'm not. But you could have gone on the pill."

"I got pregnant on the pill. I need to do it on my own terms next time. I need to make sure I'm taking the vitamins, and eating right, not drinking or smoking pot, and not fucking Tom. Mostly I need to make sure I don't feel like I'm trying to replace Jelly Bean with a new kid. I need to move on from this first. I can't be mourning and not feel the excitement of getting ready for a new baby because I'm still sad about losing the first one. It was our son, Chris." I started crying again, like I always did when we spoke about babies now.

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