Thirty-seven
Sadie
When Nick first came to the hotel after Ben left me there, he told me Ben had taken off on him. Instantly, my mind went to the worst-case scenario. A relapse? A fight? When I saw him the next day at his show, he looked like he’d walked in front of a bus.
When we see each other now, it’s beyond awkward. We pass by each other with barely a breeze to let us know that we are in the same room.
We haven’t talked all week since I sent him my last message. I plan to keep it that way. We’ll only speak if we have to. He sleeps in a bunk, and I stay in the back bedroom of the bus. All this past week he’s disappeared after shows, sneaking in at all hours of the night. What he is doing, I don’t know. Most nights, I fear that maybe he is with someone else. I can’t help it. What is he doing that is keeping him away?
I tell my parents about the baby. My father once again shuts down. He tells me this isn’t the best time, and we can’t keep putting bandages over bullet holes unless we want to become a disaster. Unfortunately, we already are, but I leave that detail out. To my parents, Ben and I are getting better every day, our marriage is a work in progress, and Ben’s excited to be a father.
This is the hardest, most painful lie I have ever told, not because I’m saying it to my parents but because I’m trying to believe it too. Regardless of what I wish, in just one more week we will be done. I want to choke on those words and the realization that this is where we are. The papers will be filed, and I will be divorced at age nineteen. In one more week, I will lose my best friend, my husband, the one man whom I will never be able to replace. Divorced, heartbroken, and pregnant. What a tragedy, right? God, I am truly pathetic. When did I become this girl? The one who accepted excuse after excuse and fell down the rabbit hole? The one who lost her identity to fit into his perfect mold? This isn’t what I thought I was missing. In fact, it’s exactly what I wanted to avoid in my life. I fell in love, and I broke. I am no martyr. I have no one to blame but myself. I could blame Ben, but there was no loaded gun to my head. I made this choice, like I always have. Sacrifice myself to keep others happy, safe, and loved.
I’m tired. I’m over being on a bus with four rock stars and zero female interaction. This bed in the back of the bus is giving me a severe case of cabin fever. I miss Kate, I miss my parents, I miss nursing—and pathetically, I miss Ben.
Grabbing a shirt from Ben’s suitcase, one I can drown in comfortably, I pull off the sundress I wore to go out today. Removing my bra, I throw it in the hamper. Before I get the shirt on, Ben walks in, causing me to jump and cover my chest with my hands.
“You scared me.”
He eyes my body up and down, and for a split second I forget I’m pregnant. His eyes fixate on my stomach, the tiniest bloat where our baby is growing; it’s enough to take notice of, but only if you look close enough. I suddenly think about doctors’ appointments—I’ll be doing those alone.
“Sorry.”
I grab the shirt and slide it on quickly, hiding the evidence of our child. Evidence of the one person I love more than anything—but to him, the innocent child who ended us. How could our baby be the cause of our marriage ending? Shouldn’t we have built a bond so strong that it brought us closer together?
I never thought a child would be anything but a blessing until I became pregnant with Ben’s.
“It’s okay. We’re gonna head to dinner, do you want to come?”
“No, I’m ready for bed, and I’m not feeling well. Thanks, though.” Climbing into bed, I bury myself in the heap of blankets, the cool sheets feeling nice against my overheated skin.
“I can bring you back something; you’re both probably hungry.” That’s the first time he has referred to the baby.
“No, I’ll order some pizza or something. Have fun with the guys.” I feel the tears forming in my already swollen, tired eyes, and I badly wish I could make us better, but he has made it very clear that our child is not something he wants. As a mother, I choose our child above anyone or anything, but it still kills me to be losing him.
“Call me if you need me.”
“Mm-hmm.”
With those vague words, he leaves.
My eyes are beginning to drift closed, heavy from all my crying, when my phone goes off. I debate answering it for a long while when I see Mama on the screen. Then I widen my tired eyes and put on an effortless-looking smile.
“Hey!” Papa’s face comes into view alongside my mother’s. The sight of them is overwhelming.
“Baby, how are you?” my mother asks.
“I’m okay—super tired, and I feel so bloated.” I chuckle, rubbing my belly.
“You don’t look bloated. You’re glowing, baby girl,” Papa chimes in. Regardless of his reservations, he still shows up. My father is a great example of what a real man and father should be like. I wonder what Ben would be like if his father loved him this way. Ben deserved better.
“You have to say that because I’m hormonal and I could either snap or sob.” We all laugh, and I hear the doorbell ring in the background. Dad leaves to go grab it.
“Who’s there? You guys have plans tonight?” I ask.
Mama smirks. “We have someone who wants to see you.” With that, the loud and familiar sounds of Kate fill the echoing kitchen.
“Sadie Jay!” I begin to cry the instant I see her face. I haven’t talked to her in over two weeks, not since she left for Paris with her parents. She has no idea I’m even pregnant.
“Oh no, don’t cry, you’re going to make me cry!” I drop my head and wipe away the tears. No one knows that I’m filing for divorce when I get home.
“Sadie, why are you so upset?” my mother asks, and I shake my head. I sniffle and sob, a mess on the other end of the video call.
“I miss you guys. I can’t wait to see you next week. I’m just a little homesick.” The lie rolls off my tongue like a truth. I never used to be able to lie, it never sat well with me, and now I can do it without so much as a blink.
“Oh, Sade, don’t worry! Only seven days and we’ll be together, and I promise we’ll have a girls’ night, with a sleepover and Cosmo magazines.” We both chuckle—I even let out a snort. I wipe the tears and decide I better tell Kate about the baby.
“Hey, Kate?” She stops laughing and looks into the camera.
“What?”
“I have something to show you.” I’m only wearing Ben’s shirt and my tiny white thong, so to keep my father from getting an eyeful, I pull the blanket up to my hips.
“What?” She tilts her head.
Lifting my shirt with one hand and tucking it under my breasts, I extend my arm up and out so she can see my growing little bump—it’s nothing extreme, more like water weight.
“Is there a reason I am staring at your stomach?” She laughs.
I smile and giggle. “I’m not food bloated, Kate. I’m baby bloated.” The phone drops from her hands and lands face up. I can see her hands at her mouth and my mama rushing to pick up the phone, giggling under her breath.
I laugh as my mom checks over her phone then holds it in front of Kate.
“You’re pregnant? Bun in the oven? Pregnant with a baby?” She screams behind her hands, jumping up and down excitedly. I feel butterflies, and it makes me forget for a split second that Ben isn’t happy—that he said he never wanted a child. Everyone but him has reacted so beautifully—everyone who doesn’t matter as much as he does.
“Yes. I’m mostly bloated; I’m not that far along.” I run my hand up and down the center of my warm stomach.
“Oh my god! Sadie! You’re pregnant! Oh! If it’s a girl you have to name her Kate!” We all laugh, and I roll my eyes, secretly loving every second of this.
“Okay,” I reply sarcastically.
“No, seriously. It’s your best friend duty to do so! I would name mine after you!”
“We never discussed this.” I shake my head, laughing, the feeling welcome after a week of nothing but gray skies.
“Sadie! I’ll convince you! We don’t have to talk about it, it’s the order of things.”
Shaking my head, I respond, “Okay, good luck with that.”
“Whatever, you just watch. But have you and Ben talked names yet?” My stomach drops, my light mood drifting away.
“Uh, we have, but nothing has stuck.” I lie again, two times in less than five minutes.
“You’ll find it, baby. Papa and I didn’t know what we wanted to name you until we held you in our arms. Then, out of nowhere, he said Sadie, and I looked down at you and saw a Sadie. We hadn’t discussed that name at all—your dad had actually just heard it that day. So it’ll happen.”
“I guess.” I think briefly about the moment I will hold our child, and that’s all I see—me and our child. The bedside will be empty because Ben won’t be there; our child may never know their father.
“Speaking of Ben, where is that loser? I haven’t seen him in weeks!” Kate asks.
“He went to dinner with the band. I’m not feeling too hot, so I stayed back. I think everyone has left.” The door is closed, and I don’t hear anything coming from the front.
“Make sure the bus door is locked. I hate you being alone in a strange place,” Papa chimes in.
“Ben wouldn’t leave me here without locking it. Don’t worry. But hey, I need to get going. I’ll talk to you guys later?” I need some alone time right now; I’ve had enough roller-coaster emotions for one day.
“Okay, baby. Get some rest, we love you!”
“Yeah, get some rest, preggo, and sleep on that name!” Kate gets the final word in, and I wave them all off and end the call.
Standing from the bed, I go to search the little fridge for some soup or something for my hungry baby. When I walk out, I see light from the TV and someone’s feet up on the couch in the living area.
“Hello?” I call.
“Hey, it’s me,” Nick says. I double-check the shirt is covering all of me before I step out.
“Oh hey. How come you didn’t go to dinner?” I ask, stepping in front of the fridge.
“Ben wanted me to stay and make sure you were good and didn’t need anything.” This stuns me.
“He did?” I didn’t think Ben cared once I told him I was pregnant.
“He did. Anyway, you hungry? I can take us to get some food. We can get an Uber and drive around till we find something?” He sits up, and I debate it for a second.
“I would like that. Let me throw on some pants.”
“Cool.” I walk into the back and find my black ripped skinnies. I pull off Ben’s shirt to throw on a bralette, then throw Ben’s shirt back on. Slipping on my flats, I make it back out in less than two minutes.
“All right, ready!” I announce. Nick nods, throwing on his jacket. We leave the bus and head toward the front of the venue we’re parked at.
“They’ll meet us up here.” The night is chilly, but I didn’t grab a jacket, so I have to deal with the crisp air.
“You want my jacket? You look cold,” Nick offers as the Uber pulls up. I shake my head as he opens my door for me and helps me slide in.
We sit in a comfortable silence, and my mind has time to wander as we watch the tall buildings and small businesses pass us by.
“Does he ever talk about the baby?” I don’t let my eyes drift over. Nick doesn’t answer for a few drawn-out seconds.
“He does. He asks us about how you’re feeling. He’s been pretty secluded, keeping to himself.”
“So we think,” I mumble, finally peering over at him.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s nothing,” I lie.
“Sadie, you think he’s stepping out on you?”
I nod and frown. “Maybe he is. Ben’s mad, he’s hurt, he feels like I betrayed him by getting pregnant. He knows the marriage is over.” Using the instead of our shows how much distance has been wedged between us. I’m separating myself from who we were.
“Listen, yes, he disappears at night or in the middle of the day sometimes, but I don’t think he would cheat on you, Sadie. You’re too good of a woman, and regardless of how he feels about the baby, he does still love you.”
The mixture of the silence in the car and the bustle of the outside world sounds deafening, like the world is closing in on me.
“I never knew that love could feel so much like pain—like hate. I never knew that it had the power to destroy you.”
“That’s all love is, Sadie. I hate to admit it, but love isn’t always picking who makes you happy but more who you want to stand beside. It’s about deciding who you want to survive the pain with—who you want to stand with as you burn to the ground.”
“We already burned. Now what?” What he said is true, but now we don’t stand together at all—we couldn’t survive the fallout. How do I start to heal? When will I worry about me and not about Ben being happy? I should hate him, look at him with so much disdain I can taste it, but I don’t. Instead, I only worry about what his life will be like without me.
The feeling that comes with thinking without me is excruciating.
“You walk away, Sade. You are the best thing that ever happened to Ben, know that, but you have to walk away now that you’ve played all your cards. Learn to accept what is and save yourself. You did your part; he has to do the rest.” Nick has always supported me; we bonded very early in Ben and my whirlwind relationship, so I trust him. But even he knows there’s nothing left to fight for; I will say goodbye to not only Ben but this entire life.
“That’s what I plan to do. I’m going to file for divorce. We can’t do this anymore.” He doesn’t beg; instead, he lets my tears fall and pulls me into his side, running his hand up and down my arm.
Goodbye never felt so devastating.
“Tacos? Does baby like tacos?” He breaks the silence, and I snort, wiping away my tears and the snot that has escaped. How charming is that?
“Who doesn’t like tacos?”
“Good. Hey, man, can you let us out right here?” The driver pulls up outside a taco joint. The smell catches my and the baby’s attention instantly. Oh, that smells so damn good.
Nick orders our food, and while he gets us drinks, I study his side profile, noticing the slight wrinkles around his eyes and forehead as well as the sharp details of his chin. He’s handsome and rugged. You can tell he has seen so much in life, and it’s made him wise.
* * *
“Nick, were you really married?” I ask, taking a sip of the ice-cold Coke, remembering what he said last time we talked about it. He sits across from me at the round table. Looking around, he nods.
“I was married once. Almost twice. But then I realized the first marriage was a shit show, and I didn’t want a repeat.”
I snort, watching him sip his drink. “I have to admit, I wouldn’t have pegged you for the noncommitment type. You’re always so kind, and I see the way that you love the boys, especially Ben.”
“Don’t forget you , kid.” He winks, earning a grin from me.
“Me too. So why didn’t it work? What messed you up so bad?”
“Oh, that’s a story. Hold on,” he says as they call our order, and he grabs it. “All right, two steak tacos with extra sour cream for our hungry mama.” He places my tacos down, and I salivate—I’m starving. Clapping my hands together, I moan and start to dig in.
“You are hungry. Damn.”
“Don’t avoid. You know all my dirty laundry, time to spill.” I push him before taking a big bite of my taco. I must look like this is my first meal in days, sitting here with my legs crossed in front of me, wearing my big loose tee and my mouth full of food. When baby lets me eat, I eat. No slowing me down.
“I met Suzy.”
I snort, halting his story. “What?” he asks, taking a bite of his shrimp taco.
“Suzy? Really, that’s the best you can come up with? What was her real name?”
Shaking his head, he smiles around his food, bringing his napkin to his lips to shield his mouthful of taco. “I’m serious.” He takes a sip of his drink to wash it down. “I married Suzy when we were both seventeen.” Assessing him, I almost call him on it again, but he’s completely serious.
“Seventeen? Wow, I thought Ben and I were young. So it was young love?”
“Yup. I was an arrogant, cocky son of a bitch, and she was high-maintenance and everything I now try to avoid—she always knew how to push me.”
“Is that why you divorced? Couldn’t get along?” He shakes his head, looking out to the street beside us, his eyes becoming distant. I struck something there.
“No. Shortly into our marriage, we realized we had no money. I barely made enough to put soup and bread on our table. She wanted the finer things, and when I couldn’t provide, she would make me feel like shit, so I started using.”
“Heavy using?” He nods, finally looking at me.
“Yup. The real shit. I was on coke, heroin, ecstasy, anything I could get either free or dirt cheap.” Putting his taco down, he stretches his arm across the table. I gulp just thinking about Nick on anything. I haven’t seen him touch a thing—not a cigarette, not drugs, not alcohol—so I can’t imagine him being into anything hard like that.
“See these lines?” He points to the three solid black lines tattooed on the inner side of his elbow where his arm bends. I nod. “Each line is a five-year sober mark. I am now sixteen years sober. I got them here to cover up the marks from all the fucking needles I used.”
I swallow thickly, my heart hurting for him. I see those years before he was sober flash in his eyes.
“Hey, you don’t have to tell me. I don’t need to know,” I reassure him, comforting him by rubbing my hand up and down his arm.
“No, it’s all good. This is who I am.”
I let him go on without another word, taking small bites and little sips.
“Well, one day I started to owe people money for my addiction, and I had to start selling stuff. I sold her ring—her nice jewelry. One day, I came home on a trip, and it all changed. My eyes were blurry, and everything was loud. I was gone. Rightfully so, she started getting after me about my drugs and my stealing, calling me a worthless piece of shit, and one thing led to another, and I hurt her. Broke her arm and bruised her up bad.” His eyes go a little misty, wandering anywhere but at me, and my heart cracks in two for him. “I didn’t even know I was doing it. I didn’t really know where I was when I started hitting her, too far gone at that point. When I woke up in jail the next day with a restraining order, charges against me, and a foggy memory, I knew I’d fucked up.”
“Nick . . . I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.” I shake my head and reach for his hand, wiping away my tears.
“You deserve to know. Sadie, listen . . .” He pauses, leaning in and giving me his green eyes. “I get why you stayed with Ben. One day, I fucked it up so bad that I went too far. I hurt the love of my life. Ben has never hurt you like that, but the wounds he has caused, those are as deep. You deserve better, and if he isn’t willing to get better for himself, for you, or for the baby, then you need to let go.”
“They really do hurt,” I say. Nick is right. Ben would never hit me, but that doesn’t mean that he will always want me or love me, no matter the obstacles. Ben can’t love me or our child the way we need if he can’t even love himself.
“I love him like a son. I took him in after he left the foster system, and I have tried to sober him up every day since, seeing myself in him, but it didn’t work. I had to get better, but I never could until I was willing to do it by myself and for myself. Losing you will always be his biggest regret. Don’t let him be yours. You did all you could, Sadie.” I nod, knowing the truth. Knowing I can’t help Ben or make him stay with me. I can’t force him to accept our child—and I don’t want to.
Ben Cooper is the man I fell for way too fast and lost even faster.
“You were wrong earlier,” I say as I stare at Nick, seeing him in this new light. It makes more sense to me now why he loves Ben and why he’s the silent father figure. He was once broken, and slowly, with time and self-love, he glued himself back together.
“How so?”
“You said this is who you are, but it isn’t. That’s who you were. You’re a survivor. I hope Ben will be one day too.” His face softens, and he accepts my words.
“Me too, kid. Me too.”
I mull over everything he said, envisioning Nick as a broken young adult and seeing Ben as the broken man he is, and I hurt for them both. Even though Nick is sober and clean now, it doesn’t mean he’s free of scars on the inside. He’s still as wounded in there now as he was then. In time, I believe Ben will also be a better man, damaged underneath but overcoming each day.