Chapter 2
Breanna
He’s gone.
Walking up the steps of the cabin, deep down, something tells me I won’t find him here.
Something’s missing. An element in the air around the cabin, maybe.
The little thrill I always get when I walk up these steps has been replaced with something else that makes my heart beat faster, not in a good way.
The cabin looks the same, the dish drainer is next to the sink with clean dishes in it. The throw that is usually in a crumpled heap on one end of the couch is folded neatly over the back. The clock in the little eating area is still ticking.
I can still smell his cologne in the air.
But he’s gone.
His bed is made, and on the pillow is a folded piece of paper with my name on it. Sitting on the edge of the mattress, the springs squeak under me; I unfold the letter. Mato’s familiar small, blocky handwriting is on the page.
Breanna,
Please don’t hate me. I know you’ll be angry with me, but please don’t hate me.
This is the right thing to do, I know you don’t agree, but we can’t build a life on the ranch inside a bubble. I love you more than anything in this world, but I have nothing to offer you, and I refuse to be that kind of man.
You have to follow your dream and go to college; I won’t be the reason you don’t go, and I won’t forgive you if you pass up the gift you have been given. Please follow your dream. Please. Do it for me.
I’m leaving this morning before sunrise to enlist, not because I don’t want to see you, but because I can’t bear to say goodbye. Please understand that I’m doing this for us.
As soon as I am able, I will let you know where I am.
You are my moon and stars; you are my heart. Please don’t forget that.
Love always,
Mato
He left me.
The crushing weight of betrayal makes it hard to breathe. We’ve argued about this so many times since his dad died six months ago. He told me he wouldn’t go.
Lying down on his pillow, I breathe in his scent and close my eyes. The ache in my chest from my heart shattering into pieces makes it hard to focus on anything but his absence.
The emptiness of the cabin around me is seeping into my heart and my thoughts. My frazzled mind has one thing on repeat: He said he wouldn’t go. I believed him.
I don’t know how long I lie there, the pillow wet against my cheek and the shadows across the room getting longer as the setting sun shines through the window. I’ve been in this room more times than I can count at this exact time of day, and it looks the same, but everything is different.
A week later, I sit up in bed, throwing the covers off my head, my mind racing and calculating days. My period is late. I’ve been shut in my bedroom with the blinds closed, shutting out the rest of the world, and just realized my period was due last week. I’m never late.
After Mato’s father passed, he had the cabin to himself, and we took advantage of that freedom. A lot. Memories of sneaking into his bed and feeling his hands on me and his body next to mine bring on fresh tears. I didn’t think I could cry anymore.
Shit. I need to go to town and get a pregnancy test.
How am I going to do this by myself?
What will my family think?
Dad will be so disappointed in me.
Oh, my God. How do I do this by myself?
Falling back on my pillow, I bury my face in the softness and cry again.
I can’t let anyone know about this. I’m supposed to move into my dorm in a few weeks.
Before Mato left, I had planned to tell Dad I wasn’t going.
I have to go now. I don’t want to be here, where every little thing reminds me of him.
It doesn’t take long to slip on some clothes and pull my messy hair up into a bun on top of my head. I grab my keys and open my bedroom door. My sister, Kinley, is standing on the other side, making me gasp and jump back.
“Damn it! Why are you creeping at my door?” I whisper-yell at her with my hand on my chest.
Taking her time, she tilts her head to the side and narrows her eyes, looking over my face like I’m a damn science experiment she’s observing. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. Move.” I try to push past her, but she plants her hands on the door frame and blocks my way.
“Liar. There have been some coinciding events lately, and I don’t think they are coincidences. Either tell me what’s going on, or I go to Dad.” She lifts an eyebrow in a dare. Kinley doesn’t take no for an answer and has more balls than most people I know.
We have a stare-off for several moments. I also know that Kinley can be tight-lipped, and I kind of need someone to talk to. With a big sigh, I step back and wave my hand for her to come in my room.
Pushing her long blond hair over her shoulder, she walks in, looking around at the mess. She wrinkles her nose and turns to fix her hazel eyes on me as she crosses her arms over her chest. The half-shirt she’s wearing pushes up and exposes her shiny bellybutton ring.
Tossing my keys onto my dresser, I look away when I say, “I think I’m pregnant.”
In my periphery, I see her hands fall to her sides, and when I look up, her face is slack, but her eyes are huge. She takes three steps to me and grabs my hands to pull me to the bed to sit next to her.
Her eyes volley between mine. “Tell me everything.”
I start at the beginning. I tell her about how Mato and I have been together since I was fourteen. About how he was my first everything. The fights in the last six months about him leaving. I let her read the letter.
Keeping her eyes on the letter like she’s rereading it, she says, “This isn’t so bad, Bre. He says he’s coming back.”
“In four years. That’s a long time, anything can happen.”
She takes my hands and turns toward me, her leg bent on the bed. “What do you want to do?”
My shoulders fall, and I look at the floor. “I don’t know. I don’t want to be a single mother, but I love him.”
She nods. “Okay, you have a little time to think about it, but Dad can’t know about this until you know for sure what you want to do.”
Letting out a breath, I puff my cheeks. “I know.”
She nods again and stands. “Alright, let’s go into town. We need to know for sure.”
Still sitting on the bed, I look up at her. “You’re going with me?”
Looking at me like I have two heads, she rolls her eyes. “Fuck yeah, you think I’m going to let you go through this by yourself?”
Two hours later, both of our heads are bent over the five little sticks in the bathroom with double lines on each one. My legs are so wobbly, I slowly sit on the toilet, my hands on my cheeks.
Kinley squats in front of me. “Didn’t you use protection?”
Still staring across the room at the shower, I whisper, “Most of the time.” I pivot my eyes toward her and shrug my shoulders.
“There were a couple of times we ran out of condoms, and he pulled out. Well, one time he started to, you know, come,” I whisper the word and look at the floor, “before he pulled all the way out, but I used a douche to clean up.”
Pity is in her eyes, and she shakes her head. “Did they not pull you aside in junior high for that stupid sex ed class that taught you about deodorant, pubic hair, and pulling out?”
Looking away from her, I refuse to answer the question. I know it sounds dumb that we used that method, I know it’s not foolproof. I just hoped that the douching would take care of any stragglers.
For the next couple of weeks, I pace the house, wondering why I haven’t heard from Mato. He said he would write to me and let me know where he is, but I’ve got nothing. I looked it up, and it’s not uncommon for letters to be behind, but I thought I would have heard from him by now.
So far, that’s two promises he’s broken.
My heart gets a little more numb every day.
Kinley’s been up my ass wanting to know what I’m going to do, but I think my lack of doing anything is my answer.
I just can’t kill something that is a part of both of us.
The day before I’m supposed to move to Oklahoma State University, Kinley corners me in the kitchen and hisses, “What are you doing? Do you think coming home for the holiday break, big and pregnant, is the best time to let everyone know? Are you going to walk in the front door and yell ‘surprise!’?”
Kinley can also be the most sarcastic and verbally cutting person I know.
Pushing back, I get close to her and whisper-yell. “Stop it, Kinley! Maybe I just won’t come home for the holiday break. Maybe I’ll just stay gone.”
Her eyes narrow. “You wouldn’t. That would kill Dad and Marley, you know how important the holidays are to her.”
Putting my hands over my ears, the stress of the whole situation is making my skin crawl and I close my eyes. “Stop it.” I whisper. “Just stop.”
Kinley pulls my hands down, and I open my eyes. “This isn’t going away, Bre. This isn’t Oz; you can’t just close your eyes and wish away reality.”
Pulling my hands from hers, I step away. “Just leave me alone. I wish I’d never told you.”
The truth is, I want to keep my baby. But I don’t want to see the disappointment in my dad and brother’s eyes when I tell them I’m knocked up at seventeen. And that the father of my baby ran away.
How can I defend him when he’s not here? Especially when I’m doubting him myself, which is like a knife to the heart every time I think about it.
The first few weeks of my college classes are stressful, especially since morning sickness has started. My days are full of trying to get to class on time, running to the nearest restroom to vomit, and trying to do homework in between crying jags.
My dorm mate, Stefanie, who is pre-med, is nice, but I’m so miserable that we don’t talk much. I think she knows.
I still haven’t heard from Mato, my heart is now in two pieces in my chest. Is it even possible to feel numb and feel everything simultaneously? I’ll never forgive him for this.
On my birthday, my phone buzzes at the exact time I was born, and Dad’s number is on my caller I.D. “Hey, Dad!” Even though I’ve kind of been avoiding him, I start to cry when I hear his voice.
“Happy birthday, honey.” His rough, deep voice has always been my safe place, and tears start rolling down my cheeks.
Trying to hide the fact that I’m crying, I clear my throat. “Thanks, Dad. How is everyone at home?”
“We’re all good. How are your classes?”
Horrible.
“They’re good; most of this stuff is the crossover from high school stuff, so it’s not so bad yet.” I wipe my hand across my nose that’s started running.
“You sound stuffy, honey, are you getting a cold?”
No, I just miss you and want to come home so you can hug me and tell me everything’s going to be okay.
“I think I might be, I’ll get some cold medicine from the campus store.” I use the hem of my shirt to wipe my nose.
“If you need to go to the doctor or come home for the weekend, call me and I’ll come get you.”
That makes the tears come even faster. “I will, Dad, thanks. I’ve got to go, my next class is coming up, and I have to walk across campus.”
“Alright, honey, happy birthday and I love you.”
“I love you, too, Dad. Bye.”
I didn’t go to my next class. Instead, I lie on my bed and cry myself to sleep.
It’s dark outside when I wake up, and Stefanie is on her bed, reading one of her textbooks. As the haze of sleep leaves my brain, a pinch in my stomach makes me realize what woke me up. I vaguely remember the one I had a few minutes ago that pulled me from sleep.
She doesn’t look at me when I sit up, but when I look down, there is blood soaked into my jeans between my legs.
Oh no!
When I stand up, a gush of blood warms the crotch of my panties, and Stefanie looks up at me because I’m frozen where I stand.
“Holy shit, that’s a lot of blood.” She sets her textbook to the side and stands up. “What do we do?”
Panic is muddling my problem-solving skills, and I tear my eyes from the blood that is creeping down the thighs of my jeans. “I don’t know.”
“How far along are you?” She asks as she steps toward me and takes my hand. Since she’s pre-med, that’s probably why she’s not recoiling from me.
“I don’t know, I haven’t been to a doctor, but I think around eight weeks.”
She nods. “I did a report about miscarriage in my advanced biology class in high school, and it’s typical for this to happen, but this seems like a lot of blood. Should I call an ambulance? Or do you want me to take you to urgent care?”
“No! I don’t want a record of this. Will you call my sister?”
She grabs my phone, and I tell her to find Kinley in my favorites, and she taps the button. I hear my sister’s voice before she hands me the phone. “Kinley?”
“Happy birthday. I was going to call you later.”
“Kinley, I need your help. I think I’m having a miscarriage; there’s so much blood.” My voice is shaking, and I can barely hold the phone.
In the background, there is banging, and then I hear keys jingling. “I’m on my way. It’ll be almost two hours before I get to you, can you hang on? Do you have anyone there with you?”
“Yeah, my roommate is here. What do I do?”
“Go get in a steamy shower and let the hot water beat against your back for ten or fifteen minutes. Do you have any sanitary napkins? Not tampons, pads.”
I look at Stefanie, and she shakes her head. “No, only tampons.”
“Okay, use a hand towel folded up in your underwear after you get out of the shower and lie down. If the bleeding gets worse or you start feeling dizzy, go right to urgent care and call me. I’m on my way.”
I do as Kinley says, and when I lie in my bed to wait for her, all I can think is that my only tether to Mato is broken. He left me to go through all this alone, and now I’m losing our baby.
I hate him.