“You know you have to tell him,” my mom finally speaks after a few beats of silence.
“I know, Mom,” I snap, regretting it instantly. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. One minute I’m having a breakdown and the next I’m angry. “I will,” I say gentler this time. “I just need to get through these panic attacks.”
She knows without me telling her that Sy was the father of my baby. She asked me the first day I was awake. I didn’t deny it. What was the point? I did make her promise she would never tell anyone. I decided when the doctor told me I had lost the baby that it wasn’t meant to be. Getting into that side of things with Sy would only spell trouble, and somehow in my messed-up head, I thought it would be better. But as the days go on, it doesn’t make me feel better. I mean, how do you deal with the loss of someone who didn’t have a chance to live?
No matter how hard I try, the memory of waking up in this room and asking about my baby has the darkest of clouds descending over me. The doctor's silence told me everything I needed to know. I didn’t know until that very moment that the thought of not having my child nestled inside of my womb would be the most heartbreaking thing I would ever have to endure. To know the baby you were carrying is no more, where only a week earlier, its heart was thumping with life, fills me with a pain so deep I don’t think it will ever fade. I feel alone, lost to the emptiness that settles within me and I don’t understand.
“The doctors said it’s normal, Holly.” She comes to sit on my bed, her warm hand taking my own. I know they’ve said it’s normal to experience all these feelings after a trauma, but it doesn’t make me feel better.
“Darling girl, you know I’ll support anything you decide, but that man out there is fighting the darkness just as you are. I see it in his face. You shouldn’t be pushing him away.” I don’t say anything, just keep staring ahead, my eyes growing heavy. “No man sits outside a hospital room fighting his demons for no reason. Give him a chance.” I agree with what she is saying, I see it in Sy’s eyes, but I can’t do it. I can’t push past it yet.
“I’m not ready,” I simply say, knowing she won’t understand. No one understands.
“Okay, darling.” Her hands go to my cheeks, wiping away my silent tears. “I love you, Holly Bear,” she says as my eyes close.
“Holly Bear,” I whisper my childhood name back to her. “I love you, Mom,” I say just as sleep takes me.
My exhaustion blankets me. I love my mom; her love is beyond comparable. I’m so thankful for her trying to dissipate the clouds of darkness surrounding me, even if it doesn't work. As my mind drifts into slumber, I wonder if I would have been a mother like her, sitting by my daughter’s side while she tries to push everyone away?
And just like that, I’m back in my nightmare.
CHAPTER TEN
Sy
“Holly,” I plead, pumping her chest eight beats before blowing my breath into her body. Fuck, I never thought I would ever have to do this again.
“Don’t you die,” I yell between breaths, remembering the feeling of loss and never wanting to have to live through it again.
“Don’t you dare die.” The words repeat over, and over as I pump her heart, begging it to start.
“Don’t you dare die…”
My pleading pulls me from my sleep. Sweat covers my brows as memories from that night flash through my mind. Fuck, another nightmare to add to the fucking reel.
“Are you all right, Sy?” Holly’s mom asks, sitting next to me in the waiting room of the hospital.
“How is she?” I ignore her concern for me. I’m only worried about her daughter.
“I calmed her until she fell asleep.” I nod as a sense of relief fills me. I’ve been coming to the hospital every day for the last two weeks. Every day, Melinda fills me in when Holly refuses to see me, but today I just had to push. I don’t know what it is. Every day since that night in the clubhouse, I knew the connection between us was something different; something more than just a one-time deal. I was just too scared to see it for what it was. You would think watching my child take her last breath would teach me to love without attachments and fears. Instead, I held back from her, afraid of what hurt someone else could inflict on me, and look where that got me.
I should have never gone there with her, never let a part of me open up again, but I did and now I’m stuck between wanting to walk away and knowing I can't.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asks again, pulling me out of my head.
“How many is that now?” I reference the panic attack. I know she told me she’s been having them. I didn’t realize how bad they were. I don’t think I can handle seeing that look of fear on her face again.
“She’s been having at least one a day, sometimes two. The doctors said to expect it. She’s seeing someone and has been prescribed something to help.”
“Any news on when they’re releasing her?” I ask the one question I’ve asked every day for the last two weeks. I hate hospitals. The sooner she’s out of here, the sooner I can relax.
“A couple more nights. They want to make sure she doesn’t have another bleed.” I nod, understanding how touch and go it was last week. After the second surgery to stop the bleed from the gunshot wound, no one knew if she was going to make it. I wish I could take it all back, get there in time. If only I didn’t fuck around arguing with one of T’s boys, I could have beaten the bullet. “You should go home,” she whispers, pulling me out of my self-loathing,