Lady Baby

26

"I am scared of going to sleep." Sharon shifted on the bed to face Max. 

"Why?" Max asked. He could guess the answer but he needed to hear her say it.

"What if I wake up and I can't remember? What if this is a one chance window kind of thing? I am terrified." She pulled the covers to her chin, brows bunching over her shut eyes.

Max wanted to pull her close but he held back, both arms lying uselessly at his sides. He was equally scared.

"Don't be scared." He refused to deeply consider the possibility of her fears—he couldn't. Desperate for something to distract her, he jumped on the first idea that sprung into his head. "I promised not to tell you this but you will probably find out when we see your doctor tomorrow."

"Freddie?" Her eyes were still closed. Max faced the opposite wall, eyes lingering on the black TV screen then sliding to her once more.

"Nope. Doctor Gabriel. He is the psychiatrist in charge of your case. Obnoxious, if you ask me. Never optimistic. Uses a coaster. They keep saying he is one of the best in the field but I don't agree."

"He uses a coaster? Something tells me he is not that bad." She chuckled and opened her eyes. Worry was no longer in their depth.

"But he is. I swear he is." The man had been professional so far, even calling every two days to ask how Sharon was doing, but he hardly said anything positive about Sharon's condition. "He always wraps his reports with irritating statements like 'but we can't be sure', 'her condition is rare', 'progress takes years sometimes'. Who asked for his wise-guy nuggets? Not me."

Sharon laughed and the sound was so full and rich that Max joined in.

"Okay. Fine." She wiped the corner of her eye. "Doctor Gabriel is the grinch. What was it you were about to tell me?"

"Oh, that." Maybe he shouldn't tell her. But she'd probably still find out tomorrow.

"You had this... umm. You had a..." It was foolish to bring it up. Max could see that now.

"I had a what?" She focused on him, twisting to her side and popping her head on a palm.

Max focused on the ceiling, unable to hold her gaze. "Miscarriage. You had a miscarriage. Am I supposed to say we? Like 'we had a miscarriage'? I don't know how these things work." He was blabbing. "It was... I was. I didn't know you were pregnant." He couldn't face her.

"Oh."

Not being able to take it, he stole a quick glance her way. She was staring at her fingers splayed on the bed.

Max looked away. "Yeah."

"And there are no other big losses we had that you are not telling me?"

He gulped then cleared his throat. "That's all."

"I am sorry."

His gaze flew to her face. "Why would you apologise?"

She shrugged, eyes still downcast and focused on her fingers. "You always wanted a baby. I was the reluctant one. Maybe all that negativity contributed. There is this article I read—"

"No." His voice was quiet but strong. "There is no need to blame yourself. That article is a load of bollocks. None of us knew of your condition. When I rushed you to the hospital the first time when all this happened, they claimed they checked and the test was negative. If I knew you were pregnant, I would have been more careful." He blinked hard. "I just wanted you safe. The whole memory loss thing... it was too much. I was so consumed by it that I didn't even have the will to properly grieve the child we lost. I was glad you were alive and that was it. What sort of father does that make me?"