39. Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Blaire
T he next month passes in a blur while staying at Dallas’ parents’ house. I started to slip further and further away into myself in an effort to protect my heart against the loss I was feeling from no longer having the ability to carry a child, and the loss I knew was coming. Dallas continued to sleep on the couch so that he could be close to me, and when I was having an exceptionally weak day, I asked him to sleep next to me. He held me close, and those nights were the nights I slept the best. The first two weeks he showered with me every day, repeating the same process of taking care of me.
“You’re precious, let me take care of you. You deserve to be taken care of.”
Every morning, he either makes me coffee or has already run out to Bean Haven and woke me up with a coffee and chocolate croissant, still writing a message. He’s doting, loving, and everything any woman will be lucky to have from him someday.
I’ve been meeting once a week with the therapist who worked with me through college and up until I moved to Aspen Ridge. I thought I didn’t need it anymore, but I realized that I was wrong, especially now. We’ve met three times already and while I’m not okay, I’m remembering how to tap into the tools to help me get there again. The fear of Andrew being out there somewhere, that he found me and tried to hurt me again, pushing Dallas away, along with the heartbreak over not being able to have children and wanting to keep it from everyone, has pulled me further and further into a depression that I’m struggling to climb out of on my own.
Dallas’ mom, Amy, has been a mother hen and it has simultaneously filled me with more love and joy than I’ve ever experienced from another woman, and broken my heart. After the first week, when she and Kinsey had watched Pride and Prejudice with me, we made it a weekly thing. We all sit together on the couch under a big blanket, and after flipping through a dozen popular TV shows, settle on watching Schitt’s Creek . We binge a few episodes together before I’m exhausted and ready for sleep again. Ivy joined us last week and has dropped by several times. The baby bump is no longer able to be concealed, and she’s the most gorgeous pregnant woman I’ve ever seen.
Today is the first Sunday dinner they’ve hosted since my accident, and it’s something I’ve felt extremely guilty about. While I’ve begged Amy to please get everyone together, and I don’t mind skipping, she insisted that her children were wildlings and she wanted to surround me with quiet and peace; things they are not.
I lie on my side at the edge of the bed and look out the window, wondering what it will be like when I move back into my studio apartment above Rogue tomorrow and don’t see much of them anymore. There’s a knock on my door and I don’t bother moving to answer it, knowing that he’ll just walk right in anyway like he always does.
“Hey, princess. How are you feeling?” he says as he crouches down on his haunches in front of me.
“I’m fine, Dallas.”
He takes a deep breath, no doubt calming himself down to handle me with the kid gloves he now uses. I don’t bother looking at him, staring past his head and continuing to watch the heavy clouds slowly move across the dreary sky.
“Baby, will you please talk to me?”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“I’m sorry. I know you’re hurting, but this is killing me, too, Blaire. I’m not giving up on you. I’m not giving up on us. I told you that you weren’t alone anymore and I’m not going to abandon you the way everyone else in your life has. I see right through you. I know what you need, and until you tell me otherwise, I’m pressing on.”
A stray tear falls from my traitorous eyes, so I close them, doing my best to hold the rest at bay. His big hands brush over my cheeks, pushing my wild, tangled hair out of my face.
“Look at me, baby. Tears or no tears, I want your eyes on me. Tell me how to fix this.”
I bite the inside of my cheek until I taste the metallic tang of blood before opening my eyes. Tears slowly cascade down his face as he looks at me, eyelids pooled with salty drops ready to rush over. I feel the moment my heart shatters into a million tiny shards, my lungs seizing, my mind swirling in a fuzzy haze of torment. I can survive any physical pain. I’ve done it before. I know I wouldn’t survive Dallas walking away from me. So I have to protect myself. I just can’t take that chance after everything that I’ve been through.
“I just want you to get better.”
“Me too,” is all I can say before closing my eyes and letting myself drift off to sleep.
Moving back into my tiny apartment is strange after being at the Hayes’ for a month. I used to love it here. It’s always been small and nothing about it is new and shiny, but it’s mine, and it’s been home. The adjustment to being alone will hopefully go by quickly, and I’ll be able to find my new normal.
After meeting with my therapist virtually yesterday afternoon, we decided that making a plan to focus on the things that make me happy will help propel me into healing. She also encouraged me to talk to Dallas and give him an opportunity to speak for himself and make his own decisions. I plan to, I just don’t know when. Being raised with fear as my constant companion, I turned into an adult that prioritizes not being vulnerable, because I don’t want to get hurt. It’s easier for me to hurt both of us and end it, than to chance Dallas leaving me because I’ll never be able to give him a family. Understanding that what I’m doing is wrong is one thing, being able to fix it is a work in progress.
The day goes by quickly, unpacking my things and emailing Sawyer about returning to work as soon as possible. I met with my doctor this morning, who cleared me to return to activity as long as I feel physically well enough to do so. Sawyer insisted that I work from home one more week, and while I’m not thrilled about it, it will be easier than seeing Dallas every day in the office.
I get comfortable on my futon and pick up my phone, scrolling aimlessly through social media, when an article jumps out at me, posted yesterday from Seattle News Now .
Ellensburg - The person killed in the trailer fire on Sunday night has now been identified. The Kittitas County Coroner's office has identified the victim as forty-eight-year-old Andrew Cain of Ellensburg. Cain, who was recently released from Washington State Penitentiary on parole, had served a decade-long sentence for child neglect, child abuse, and rape of a minor. The cause of the fire is still under investigation. At the scene, police recovered photographic evidence in a safe that is suspected to be child pornography. The cause of death is still pending. No other injuries were reported.
My phone clatters to the ground as I gasp and cover my face with shaky hands. Scrambling to pick my phone back up, I click on the dozens of comments and scroll through them.
Good riddance!
Another pedo off the streets. Won’t be missed
This guy was a foster parent!
No one’s gonna miss him
Hopefully he burned real slow, nice and crisp
Sweet sweet karma
Yuck! Who cares!
Clearly these monsters can’t be fixed!
Only ten years for all of that? Fuck our judicial system!
I exit out of the app and drop my head back on the futon. He’s dead. He’ll never be able to hurt me again.
I’m safe.
Because of Dallas.