27. Chapter 27
Chapter twenty-seven
Shelby
Iwas right but I feel no victory, only a soul crushing sense of loss that shouldn't be possible considering I’ve known this man for a matter of days. I may mourn his decision to leave but I have to let go of my selfish wants.
Cason has sacrificed enough, and he deserves to find his family. He’s made his choice which is why, when I spy him walking away from the house through the window in the bedroom I’m sharing with Nora, I close my eyes. It isn’t my place to worry about him.
All thoughts of which fade the following morning when I wake with a groan before curling into a ball on the bed. It’s sheer stupidity but with everything going on, I never stopped to consider what I would need in terms of period products and now I might be going old school. Ugh.
When another cramp overtakes me, I glance out the window where the gentle patter of rain beyond creates a soothing backdrop to my painful situation.
The soft green earth and swaying trees are lost to me though because another cramp builds in my abdomen and I hold back a groan as I twist on the small mattress.
I guess basic human functions don’t go away at the end of the world. That should be comforting but I’ve never experienced pelvic pain quite like this before.
Either way, I need to protect my clothing and I’m hoping Lottie has something in the bathroom that will do because I suspect she hasn’t had her menses in a good forty years.
Nora still sleeps in the bed against the opposite wall, and I eye her as I push back the covers. After the last few days of intermittent sleep and non-stop drama, I hate to wake her but that flies out the window when I glance between my legs.
There’s so much blood . . .
I don’t understand what I’m seeing but while I stare dumbly, another cramp overtakes me and I roll to my side, meeting Nora’s wide eyes.
“What’s happening?” I moan and she jumps from the bed.
“Shelby,” she whispers, pushing back the sheet tangled between my legs.
Another pulse rockets through my body and I feel a gush between my thighs. Scissoring them closed, I shake my head and mumble, “What a fucked-up time to get my period.”
“It's not your period,” Nora says before holding out her hand.
“Where are we going?” I ask but she doesn’t answer, just pulls me across the hall and into the bathroom. When I glance back, I pause because the spray of blood covering the mattress looks like a crime scene.
“That’s not my period, is it?” I whisper, damning fate when Cason appears in the door. Doesn’t the man ever sleep? For fucks sake.
“No honey, it isn’t,” Nora says before turning to a wide-eyed Cason and barking, “Towels. Pain relievers. A change of clothes. Now.”
With my humiliation complete, Cason backs away, his eyes dropping to my legs. At the same time, I bend over as another cramp overtakes me.
Before he pivots down the hall, our eyes meet once more and I whisper, “I didn’t think it would hurt this much.”
His brows flicker but he doesn’t comment and as a new wave overtakes me, I bow my head, immune to the sight of the blood coating my thighs.
“Sh,” Nora says, turning the spout in the bath. The lukewarm water sends a shiver through me, and I cross my arms over my legs before leaning against them.
When was the last time I had my period? Does it matter? I guess Ben finally won, except in his rage, he killed our fucking baby too.
Cason
“Unh.” The sound of Shelby’s tortured moans follow me down the hall where I meet Jason approaching with wide eyes.
“Towels,” I snap, hoping to divert him before he reaches the bathroom. I can’t unsee the sheer amount of blood pooling between her legs and it reminds me of the morning Rosanne woke up in the same fucking situation.
Her cries tore at my heart the same as Shelby’s, but I force my feet forward because I don’t know what else to do. Rosanne never came back from this and while I still mourn the loss of what could have been, I hope to my soul that Shelby doesn’t fall down the same hole into darkness.
The thought of watching the light slowly fade from her pretty blue eyes burns my chest and this is what sends me to the porch where at least, the fucking sound dies away.
Maybe it’s the coward's way out but when Jason reappears with a stack of towels in his hands, I step down the stairs.
I didn’t think it would hurt this much. What did she mean?
The physical pain no doubt racking her body or the jagged edges of the realization that she’s losing something she never really had to begin with.
From the side of the house, I spy Larry and when he waves me over with a solemn smile, I follow eagerly to escape the demons hanging around my neck.
While instinct pulls me back to that bathroom and the woman losing another piece of her soul, I know from Rosanne’s experience that there’s nothing I can do.
After the loss, Rosanne wanted the safety of her mother’s arms and while I stayed back to care for the house, she left town to be with the woman who ultimately helped her past the worst of it.
That was never me and now I wonder if it’s because I couldn't see the impact this had or refused to be the one to help her when she needed me most.
“C’mon,” Larry says. “I want to show you what I found.”
Eager for the distraction, I follow as he leads me into the trees abutting the house. Once beneath the leafy boughs, I shiver in the cool air before drawing in a deep breath and exhaling slowly.
“Bad shit,” Larry says, and I nod, unwilling to share just how bad the “shit” is.
“Don’t know where the bastard is who put that shiner on her eye but if there is a god, he’s suffering in the fiery pits of hell,” he continues.
I haven’t put faith in God since I was sixteen. How could I, after losing my family in an accident that could have been easily prevented if the woman who chose to get behind the wheel had called a fucking rideshare instead.
Still, I agree. Whoever the man was that hurt Shelby deserves more than hell. He deserves to burn for-fucking-ever.
Is she thinking about him? Does she wish that he were here to console her? Or maybe she’s cussing out his name even as we speak, wishing the same as Larry, that he’s writhing in eternal damnation.
Miscarriages happen for many different reasons, but it doesn’t take a genius to know that the trauma her body suffered recently could have been the catalyst. With the bruised or possibly broken ribs and the chafing on her wrists she was unable to hide, I suspect this new life didn’t stand a chance.
That man, wherever he is, threw away the gift that many women don’t get to experience, including my wife and that’s the biggest tragedy of all.
“Through here,” Larry says, and I stop beside him, gazing at the sliver of river practically running through Harry and Lottie’s backyard. “Bet there’s fish,” he says, rubbing his hands together.
“Great,” I say but instead of being glad that this is further reason to leave my group safely behind, all I feel is a hole in my chest where my beating heart should be.
Letting Shelby go doesn’t feel as reasonable as it seemed just hours ago and I turn away with an ashy taste on my tongue because I’m about to be another bastard who lets her down and that’s a hard pill to swallow.