30. Sully
CHAPTER THIRTY
sully
IWAS STARTING TO hate the car.
Or, more specifically, being in the car with Ellie and not being able to hold her the way I wanted to because I had to do annoying things like pay attention to the road.
I was starting to hate how the silence echoed in here while also being punctuated by mundane noises like the tires rotating on roads that desperately needed to be redone. That had been ruined by years of harsh Minnesotan winters and humid summers.
I hated that we were moving but feeling like we were going nowhere—directionless now that our loss had been doubly confirmed.
The appointment today was quietly devastating. Soul-crushing in a way that I hadn’t been expecting. It was such a whiplash—to go from dreaming up names and imagining meeting this human that was made up of my cells and hers to…nothing.
Ellie had only shed a few tears in the Maternal-Fetal Medicine office, and now she wore this sort of stoic, numb expression.
Over the last forty-eight hours, I’d had my heart broken repeatedly as I watched her grieve, as I’d seen the things her body was going through, and it was probably the most painful experience of my life, tied right up there with losing her the first time.
It worried the fuck out of me, but I was hopeful that maybe some of the doctor’s words from today might penetrate her walls and reach the depths of her mind, where I knew she was stuck in a loop of thinking about what she could have done differently.
But the kind woman we met with today insisted that Ellie did absolutely nothing wrong.
That early miscarriages were often due to chromosomal abnormalities, whereas losses after twelve weeks, while still common, were more likely than earlier losses to be due to an issue or history with clotting—something that the Lovenox would help to prevent.
When we returned home, Ellie got out of the car without saying a word, and I followed her to the front porch, where she surprised me by sitting on the steps and turning her face up toward the sun.
God, she was beautiful.
I’d been enamored with this woman since the moment I laid my eyes on her, and all I wanted to do was spend the next fifty, sixty, seventy years of my life looking, staring, appreciating everything about her.
Ellie squinted at me before patting the open spot on the porch step, right beside her.
I was a simple creature.
When Ellie beckoned, I ran.
I sat next to her and let the warmth of the sun fill my bones, mingling with grief.
It was weird that there could be any bit of levity today, but I couldn’t deny it.
For years, becoming a parent and sharing that experience with Eleanor was really all I’d ever wanted, but now the one thing on my mind was the risks.
Risks I hadn’t fully been aware of, risks that would haunt me, especially after seeing her in pain, bleeding, anxious, and scared.
Fuck, the idea of jeopardizing Ellie’s health and well-being terrified me.
More than anything, losing her simply wasn’t an option.
And right now, she might be healing, but she was also safe and sound and home—something I couldn’t help but be grateful for.
Despite all that had happened, I let the relief of that wash over me, resolidifying what I’d always known and should have done a better job of communicating over the years: she was all I needed. The one thing I couldn’t live without.
I’d make sure she understood that soon, but now wasn’t the time.
I suspected right now, she just needed someone to sit with her.
So I sat.
I wasn’t sure how long we remained there before she released a heavy sigh and poised her elbows on her knees, clasping her delicate hands together.
“Now what?”
Somehow, I resisted the urge to touch her. “Now you heal. You rest.”
“Hmm.” She cocked her head side to side. “That sounds like a lot of work.”
I chuckled but bit my tongue. It seemed a little like she was giving me an opening to talk about the future, a future I badly wanted to plan with her, but I was nervous, scared to overwhelm her with too much at once.
So I just said, “I’ll be here to help with whatever you need.”
And then I stood, walking two paces to the rosebushes that I’d been desperately trying to keep alive for years now. Bushes I’d needled my mom about endlessly, wanting to know how to take care of them properly. I snapped a flower off, being careful of the prickly stem as I handed it to Ellie.
She stared at it thoughtfully as she took it from me. “Is this where you tell me that every rose has its thorn?”
I shook my head as I sat back beside her. I had no intention of trying to convince her that there was a silver lining in her loss.
“No?” Her questioning gaze wandered over my face. “Nothing about how we have to make it through the thorny parts of life to find the beauty waiting for us?”
The corner of my mouth lifted as I considered her. “No, El.”
“Is it just a flower, then?”
It was hard to tell if she was disappointed by that idea or not.
“It’s just a flower, yeah, but it’s our flower,” I reminded her, pointing to the stem dangling between her fingers and the slightly wilting petals attached to it. “You know, I’ve only given roses to one girl in my entire life.”
“Yeah?” Her voice was raspier than it had been a minute ago. She was staring at the cherry-pink petals now, twirling the flower delicately.
“Yeah, Eleanor.” I leaned down, pressing a kiss to the top of her head and breathing in the floral scent that has always seemed to surround her. “And I don’t plan for that to be changing.”
“You never have liked change,” she whispered.
“Actually,” I sighed, “I think this is the only thing in my life that I’m unwilling to change. The only nonnegotiable. Everything else can get thrown out the window as far as I’m concerned.”
Ellie tipped her head to the side, and it landed on my shoulder.
I could hear the slight smile in her voice when she spoke next.
“I don’t think we have to throw everything else out the window.”
Our conversation lapsed into silence again after that.
But Eleanor muttering the word “we” carried me through the rest of the week.