33. You Pulled Me Through
Chapter thirty-three
You Pulled Me Through
Astoria
I’m shocked as I leave the property. It’s the worst case scenario staring at me. It’s desolate, flat snow-covered fields on both sides of a two-lane road. There’s nowhere for me to hide. In every step I take, I can feel him right behind me, but I don’t dare look. I keep moving. His shoes, which are too big for me, make it ten times harder to walk fast. But I need to do this or I’ll never forgive myself for being such a weak, stupid bitch.
It takes miles for me to find the first sign of life: a gas station. Somehow reality crashes on me when I open the door. I escaped. My heart is pounding so fast I can't breathe. The clerk's eyes bulge in concern and shock at the sight of me.
"Miss? You alright?"
"H-hel-help me."
I beg the clerk to hide me behind the counter while he calls the cops, then sit on the corner next to the register. It’s the spot that’s most covered from public view. The floor hurts my butt cheeks but beggars can’t be choosers. With my knees gathered to my chest, I fist the yellow blanket as if it were magical and could protect me from Julian. My hands shake violently and fat tears come out of my eyes while scanning every stitch. The memory of Julian whipping me flashes as if it's happening all over again. What would be the punishment for losing his baby?
Everything is going to be okay, I keep trying to convince myself. The clerk is only two steps away from me while tending the register and watching TV. He hands me a bottle of water and I drink it so fast that some of it mixes with the wet spots my breasts are creating on the nightgown. Then he hands me a pastry and I consume it in three bites.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“You’re fine now. They’re coming. Try to relax.” If he only knew how long I’ve been wanting to hear and believe those words, but I don’t, I can’t believe it.
I’ll never be fine again. One reason I walked out of the property is because of my need to at least try to get away from Julian, but there is another dark reason. There’s another part of me who wants him to end my life so that it can be over.
The door bells ring as it opens. I cover my mouth with the blanket, muffling the scream that wants to come out, but I don’t let it. The images of the night he stabbed, kidnapped, and whipped me flash through my mind again. The memory of the pain makes me nauseous. I can’t push my back flatter against the shelf. The clerk turns his gaze toward me and I cannot beg him any louder with my eyes to help me. My heart is in my ear and I try everything to calm my too-loud and fast breathing, but I can’t. I'm pushing the blanket against my chest so hard it hurts.
Please don’t let it be him. Please, God. Please. I beg you.
The clerk’s hand slowly takes hold of a gun on a shelf under the register and I squeeze my eyes shut, cover my ears, and turn my face toward the shelf to my left. I don’t want to know what happens next. I don’t want to be responsible for anyone’s death. Why can’t he let me be? A sobbing threatens to escape me, but I fight it. It chokes me.
The steps thunder further away from the counter. I look up to the mirror and see it’s a man, but it’s not Julian. It’s some trucker. My eyes meet that of the clerk again, and I guess he sees how relieved I am because he slowly places the gun back under the register. I try to catch my breath, to calm my heart. I bite my bottom lip, trying to keep silent. I don’t mind the taste of copper, but my lip hurts.
“How are you doing this morning?” the customer asks the clerk while I pray to the universe that the TV is covering my obnoxious, heavy breathing.
“Very well, thank you. Would that be all?”
“Yup.” The customer pays for a cup of coffee, and a pack of cigarettes, bids the clerk goodbye, and leaves.
It’s only after the cops arrive that I accept I’ve escaped. They ask me a million questions and I can’t answer any of them. Everything is a blur. It’s almost as if I can’t understand English. The words jumble and refuse to come out of my mouth coherently.
I escaped.
God only knows how long before he finds me again, but I escaped. I’m not such a weak whore after all. I walked miles away from him.
The nurses at the hospital help me change into a gown. The cops take the bag with my clothes but when they ask me for the yellow blanket; I hold it tight against my leaking, swollen breasts and shake my head until the nurse tells me it’s okay, that I can keep it. As they collect my blood, I watch the news announce that I’ve been found. Apparently, the reason I only saw a gas station was because I walked all the way to the next city over. That explains the road, too.
How am I here? Is this real?
When the doctor shows up, the first words that I can pronounce are: He has my baby.
“Baby?” Both he and the nurse look at me with disbelief and their eyes sweep down to the wet spots on the gown.
“I gave birth yesterday. He has my baby.”
“Let’s run an ultrasound and a few more tests on you,” proposes the doctor.
“Can you please contact my friend? Her name is Mindy Estacio.” I give them the last phone number Mindy had before Julian took me.
“I’ll take care of it,” says the nurse to the doctor before I'm left alone.
Hands tug at my arm, then nudge it. It’s hard to wake from the first deep, safe sleep I’ve had in more than a year. “Tory?”
The touch and voice startle me. “Mindy?” She’s standing right next to me and I can’t believe my eyes. I lift my head from the pillow and scan the room to find Fernando at the door, but I’m too shocked to greet them. Is this another dream tricking me into believing everything is going to be fine? I’ve had so many of those. I take her hand. It’s real and warm. I can smell her perfume. Mindy is right next to me. “Mindy…” A shaking sob pours out of me while I lean my forehead on her belly. She holds my head and her tears wet my shoulder.
“Tory.”
I sit up with my legs over the side of the bed, and we have a proper hug. I never want her to let me go again. Leaning my cheek on her shoulder, I see Fernando shedding tears, too. Slowly, we release each other.
“You’re okay,” she says it as if she's surprised while cupping my cheeks. I don’t know what to say to that because I’m not okay, not at all.
They still haven’t brought me my baby.
“Hi, Astoria,” greets Fernando while still standing by the door, guarding it from all evil.
“Hi.” I smile at him. He doesn’t know he’s the only nice guy I’ve ever known. Maybe one day I’ll have the courage to tell him that.
“I’ll let you two talk. I’ll be right outside,” he says.
“I’m so glad you’re okay. I was so scared he’d done something to you that I never asked him. You must understand, I was scared, but you were the only thing that pulled me through, Mindy. I’m so sorry.”
“Sorry for what, Tory? You were kidnapped. I’m sorry we couldn’t find you. I’m sorry I didn’t pick up that you were being stalked.”
“Is Mom alive? I tried to convince him to leave her alone, but he-he wanted to kill her.”
Mindy stares at me, and immediately, I know that she’s dead. I cover my face with both hands. “It’s all my fault. What have I done?”
Mindy pulls my hands from my face. “No. No, don’t you dare do that. It’s not. He did this, not you.”
“How did he kill her?”
“He stabbed her. He killed Emmanuel too. I thought… I was so scared you weren’t alive. Tory–” She sobs my name.
I cry into her shoulders for what seems like forever. All I have is Mindy. For too long after, Mindy sits on a plush love seat next to the bed while I refuse to let go of her hand. But then she looks down and finds the scar on my hand. I see her eyes widen and wince at the pain that scar represents and I pull it away and hide it. Her eyes shed tears and her lips tremble while staring at my face. "I can't believe you're alive, Tory. I-I'm so happy."
We hardly notice when Fernando joins us. I finally dare to ask, “Is Romeo alive? Did he–”
“He’s fine, but…" Mindy struggles to finish the sentence. "He never stopped looking for you,” adds Fernando, who is sitting next to Mindy.
“What?”The shock is obvious in my tone. How can a man wait this long for a girl he had a one-night stand with?
Mindy chuckles and, with her eyebrow raised, teases, “Yeah. That must’ve been quite the one-night stand.”
My cheeks burn and they both chuckle.
“Did you guys do the whole wedding thing?”I ask.
“Of course not, silly. How can you have a wedding without a maid of honor? That would be ridiculous,” Mindy replies.
“You waited for me?” At first I'm surprised then… "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I ruined–"
“Tory, for fuck’s sake, you’re a sister to me. Of course I waited for you. You've ruined nothing.”
Minutes full of silence pass and I doze off despite my best efforts. When I wake up, the reality of what's happened washes over me again. My baby…
“He has my baby, Mindy. I don’t want it to grow up with him.”
"A baby? You had a baby, Tory?"
On cue, the doctor walks in.
“Actually, Tory, there’s something the doctor wants to explain to you. He was waiting for us to get here. Is it okay? I mean, do you want us here?”
I nod and my attention sweeps to the doctor in the lab coat with the chart in his hands.
“Ms. Torres.” He clears his throat. “Except for an exorbitant amount of oxytocin and prolactin in your system, and your breasts lactating, you show absolutely no signs of ever being pregnant or giving birth.”
My mouth drops open, and my heart thunders fast in my ears. I must have misheard because the words aren’t making sense to me. “What? No. No. You don’t understand. I was in labor for over eight hours. It hurt like hell. I–I had a belly, I couldn’t even bend down, my water broke. I mean, I know I’m not big anymore, but my breasts have been producing milk for months. He-he–” Every word in my mind shatters into broken letters. I squeeze my eyes shut. “You have to help me find my baby.”
Mindy squeezes my hand and my eyes snap to her, then back to the doctor. “I just want to hold him one time. Just one time. I promise. I felt him inside me.”
“Ms. Torres. There’s a scientific explanation for this.”
“What is it?” asks Mindy.
“Have you ever heard of a chemical pregnancy?”
We both look at him as if he has grown a third eye.
“A chemical pregnancy is a false pregnancy that can occur when the person is under a lot of stress about either accidentally getting pregnant, or when they struggle to get pregnant. Patients often experience all the symptoms of pregnancy because the hormones induce those changes in the body.”
I bite my bottom lip, shaking my head, remembering how afraid I was that I would become pregnant, how I even had nightmares. But it can’t be. How could I spend months vomiting and not sleeping if nothing was inside me?
“No. He did an ultrasound. There was a heartbeat." I pause, remembering how I wished that Julian was tricking me into thinking I was pregnant. Maybe the heartbeat was fake. No! No, that's not possible. It's the happiest he'd ever been. I killed my baby by wishing him away. "I want my baby. Even if it’s dead. I want to see it, to hold it. Please,” I weep into the yellow blanket. I'm so sorry, baby.
“Wait, Tory. What do you mean?” asks Mindy.
“It had been eight months, Mindy… but… I just want to hold it in my arms. I want to see his face.” It’s when I say the last sentence that my breath gets stuck. My mind makes a connection.
I also wanted to see Julian’s face.
It sends me on a whirlwind and I don’t know what happened next.