𝔹𝕖𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕋𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝔹𝕣𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 ➂

𝟚𝟞.

It lasted a full week. One full week of pure torment was what God thought I deserved. It was either him or karma telling me that sleeping with my best friend was a mistake. Everything revolving around my experience in Las Vegas was a mistake. I don't think I ever want to go back there again.

Jamie barely said anything to me the entire time he'd stayed with me. He'd called Rhoen and explained that I had to be out of work for medical reasons. I wasn't sure if he'd told him anything else but I highly doubt it. He'd called his boss and said much of the same. He was staying with me because something had happened.

I had miscarried. I had miscarried Jamie's child.

On the third day I'd asked Jamie to leave because most of the cramping and heavy bleeding had stopped by then. It had stopped but my mental torment had continued. Every time I looked at him I couldn't help but feel sad.

I don't know if it was all the hormones flowing throughout my system or what, but every single time I glanced at him I wanted to cry. I thought of having his child, something I'd never ever thought of before. I thought of us being together. I thought of a lot of things and with him there it hurt all the worse.

So, he'd finally agreed to leave and I had been left with my dreary thoughts alone. Every single time I'd fallen asleep I dreamt of a little baby with red hair skewed across their head. I didn't know if it was a boy or a girl. It didn't matter because I felt their warmth in my arms.

I felt it until I'd wake up.

I'd wake up to a bout of cramps that were a reminder that the dream was just that; a dream. The likelihood of Jamie and I ever even having sex again was slim to none, let alone having a child together. Not that he was anywhere near fatherhood. Not that I was anywhere near wanting to be a mother. At least I'd never thought about it being one before.

Now, images of a younger version of Jamie play throughout my mind every so often. I picture having a spunky miniature version of him. One that picked up his father's accent, the same one my best friend had still held onto even after all these years. It had grown faint but it was still there. Every time he cooed certain words to me, things he'd said a million times previously and I'd felt nothing, had made a warmth spread throughout my body.

I feel the tears prick my eyes, yet again. They begin to flow down my cheeks just as the cold flood of sadness trickles throughout my veins. Empty. I feel completely and utterly empty. Never in my entire life have I ever felt as incomplete as I do now. Jamie is gone and he's my best friend no longer. We'd ruined that.

I don't even think I can look at him the same way ever again. Every time I had throughout the few days he was here just about drove me into near depression. I can't imagine seeing him again. He'd just be a reminder.

No, I can't think like that. He's still my best friend. He's— He's— He was the father of my child.

I close my eyes to combat my inner turmoil. It does me no good though. I see his hand running through my hair while telling me how beautiful I am. I feel his arm wrapped tightly around my abdomen as my backside snuggles into his front. I can almost taste his lips on mine. I bring my fingers up, touching them softly as a few more tears slip down my cheeks.