Chapter Thirty-One
Then
Jasper
The pounding of my heart pulses inside my ears.
It blocks out everything else as I sprint down the stale, empty corridor of the hospital.
Helen called me less than fifteen minutes ago.
The second I heard her say the words Avery and emergency room, I ran out of the surf shop.
My mind was spinning the entire way here.
In my state of panic, I barely made out when she tried to explain that Avery was bleeding and they needed to find out why.
“Excuse me, sir.” The attendant at the desk stops me. “Can I help you?”
Out of breath, I say, “I’m here to see Avery Thomas.”
“Are you a family member?” she inquires, prepared not to let me behind those double doors.
“No—” But then it dawned on me. We’re married. Smiling with pride and relief, I answered confidently, “Yes, I’m her husband.”
“And your name is?”
“Jasper Collins.”
Just then, Helen emerges from behind the automatic doors. “Jasper, honey. I’m so glad you’re here.”
I give her a quick hug. “Is she okay?”
The puffiness around Helen’s eyes tells me this is something serious. “A little shaken up, but the worst is over.”
She leads me into a long, sterile hallway. “What happened?”
“I think it’s better if you speak with Avery.” She frowns.
Now I’m really concerned. What could have happened where Helen can’t even explain it to me?
“Okay.” I swallow hard, forcing a breath through the nerves constricting my throat.
We pass only a few rooms before we get to Avery’s. Helen and I round the corner to see her lying in the bed beneath mounds of white sheets and thin blankets. Her head is turned to the side, facing the night through an open window. She looks so vulnerable. It scares me.
“Avery?” I whisper her name. Her beautiful eyes slowly drag across the room until they land on me. They’re laced with panic. Sadness covers her usually bright face. “Are you okay?”
“Oh, Jasper.” Her body shakes, wracked by sobs. “I’m so sorry.”
“I’ll give you two a minute.” Helen pats me on the shoulder before exiting the small room.
Taking each step in stride, I carefully walk over to my wife. I lean over the railing and press a kiss on her forehead. “What happened?”
“I lost the baby.” Her voice cracks. Tears roll down her swollen cheeks.
What? My eyes rapidly blink, and my brain can’t process what she’s just said. “Wait. What?”
Her hand slips into mine. “I lost the baby.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, confused by her wording and what this means.
“I had a miscarriage,” she tells me, wincing like the words alone cause her immense pain.
How could that have happened? Avery is young and healthy. I’d only heard of these things happening to older women—and I’ve never known anyone in person who has experienced this. My only knowledge of when women lose a baby comes from what I’ve seen in TV shows and movies.
“Oh my god.” My head falls into my hand. “Fuck.” My mind is spinning, trying to make sense of this. What happened? What caused it? Was it something I did wrong? “So, the baby is gone?” I ask, fearful of her confirmation.
She nods, tears down her cheeks.
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I gather my thoughts. “How do you know? Did something cause it?”
“The doctors don’t know why. They just said sometimes these things happen in the early stages of pregnancy.”
I blow out a heavy breath. “When did this happen?”
Avery slips her hand into mine. “I was sitting on the back patio with Helen after dinner, and suddenly, I started getting painful cramps. And not soon after, I started bleeding.” She brings our clasped hands to her chest. “Helen rushed me here.”
“Oh my god.” I can barely form words. My heart shatters. How can this be? We were just planning our life together as a family.
“I’m so sorry, Jasper,” she cries.
I shake my head vigorously. “This is not your fault.”
I don’t know much about miscarriages or the medical side of things, but I do know this wasn’t something she did. “It’s going to be okay. We’ll get through this.” My words contradict the hurt I feel.
“Are you still on your medication?” she asks cautiously, breaking the dense silence in the room.
I whip my head around. “What?”
“You heard me,” she states, but her voice is unsure. “I’m worried about you and this news.”
Frustration and hurt and anger crawl up my back. She’s the one who just experienced losing a baby, but is she worried about me? I’m her boyfriend—husband. It’s my job to take away her pain. I’m her protector.
“I’m fine,” I snap, but the walls slowly close around me.
“I’m sorry.” A few more tears fall.
I immediately regret my tone. I’m such an asshole. I can’t believe I’m getting defensive. She’s been through so much. The last thing she needs to worry about is me and my unstable emotions.
Leaning in, I thread my fingers through her hair and bring my forehead to hers. “No, I’m sorry. This is a lot for me too.”
Avery wraps her arms around my back, pulling me down onto her. “This is awful. I can’t believe it’s happening to me.” She pauses. “To us.”
I feel my breath become labored. I need to get out of here. “What can I do for you? Can I get you anything?”
“I’d love something sweet.” She gives me a weak smile.
“You got it.” I kiss her lightly on the lips. On contact, she begins to sob. I squeeze my eyes shut, unsure how to help her.
“When you leave, can you send Helen back in? I don’t want to be alone.”
“Of course,” I say, grabbing the door handle. But before I twist the knob, I turn back to my new wife. “I love you.”
She smiles, but the hurt is still there. “I love you, too, Jasper.”
I left the hospital room with every intention of returning. But after speaking with Helen, I ended up back in the parking garage instead of the cafeteria in search of Avery’s sweets. When I reach my truck, I’m in a daze. I stop right before the driver’s side door.
“What the fuck!” I scream into the dark, empty garage. Bending down with my hands planted on bent knees, I inhale a heavy breath. Fuck. My chest tightens. No baby? No family?
Suddenly, my phone rings. I quickly wipe the tears from my sore cheeks.
It’s my dad.
“Jasper? Are you alright?” His voice booms through the phone before I can say hello.
“Oh god, Dad. I don’t know,” I admit.
“I just got off the phone with Helen.” He sighs. “I’m so sorry.”
I wipe a hand down my face. “I’m still trying to get my head to process it.”
“I’m sure. This is a tough thing.” He clears his throat. “Are you at the hospital with Avery?”
“I am. Well, I was.” I rub my eyes, tears fall. “I guess I still am. I’m in the parking lot.”
“Are you still taking your meds?” he asks timidly.
I push off the side of the truck. “Why does everyone keep asking me that? I’m fine.”
“Jasper, this is a traumatic event. I only want to make sure you’re in the right state of mind to support yourself and Avery.”
“I realize that, Dad,” I spit. I’m frustrated by the people around me thinking I’m not strong enough to support myself—and Avery during this time.
“I know you don’t like to talk about it, but both of you are going to need each other right now.” I hear keys wrestling in the background. “And, of course, Helen and I will be here for whatever you two need.”
“I get it,” I say, climbing into the truck. “I need to clear my head.”
I should go back in, but Avery has Helen, and at this point, I need to save myself from falling down an endless black hole.
“Okay.”
“Are you heading over here?” I ask him.
“I’m going to meet them back over at Helen’s. She wants some support in all this as well,” he says.
“I’m sure. I’m going to take a drive along the coast to clear my head.” I start the vehicle without a clear direction on where I’m going. “Then I’ll head over there.”
“Sounds good, Son. Call me if you need anything,” he says before we end the call.
I toss the phone onto the passenger seat. The silence is deafening. Sadness and regret and anger bubble over. I loosen my grip on the steering wheel, swing my arm back, and punch the center console. It takes a few more good swings before I feel any relief.
Pulling out of the hospital parking garage, I’m a mess with emotions.
A few more tears fall before I reach the highway.
Lynyrd Skynyrd’s “Freebird” comes on the radio as I plow down the dark road.
In less than three months, my life has been turned upside down in the best way, and now, to have a portion of it taken away is unfathomable.
I drive for an unclear amount of time before I realize I’m at the beach house.
Pulling into the vegetation-covered driveway, I park my truck and head inside.
Everything is precisely how Avery and I left it after we’d gotten married.
This place doesn’t even feel like mine anymore.
It’s a ghost of what once could have been.
My family. My life. Will Avery want to stay married now?
Will we have no reason to stay together?
Will this mean she’ll now move to Arizona for college?
I’ll be losing my baby, my wife, and my future with them both.
Dad: Just checking on you. We’re back at Helen’s. Avery is asleep.
I start to tap out a quick response, but the heaviness in my chest combined with the lack of interest in communicating with another human is enough to slide my phone back into the pocket of my shorts, ignoring my dad and the rest of the world.