Page 41 of Save You

With our baby girl fresh in my mind, reminding me that she is the sole reason I need to go on, I glance over to the bed to see that the little life Beth and I created together, is gone. It takes a moment or two for this to sink in, but as soon as it does, I leap to my feet and practically jump over to the end of my bed. A creased, little dip remains where I had left her. Panic hits me and I begin to hyperventilate before using ungraceful, clumsy footsteps to run from my room in pursuit of her. I’ve lost Beth, I’m not losing our daughter too.

I thud down the hallway, falling against the wall several times before I practically leap down the stairs. Adrenaline is coursing through my veins, getting me ready to fight tooth and nail. However, as soon as I hit the bottom step, I hear her soft gurgles coming from the direction of our family living room and begin to calm a little.

Bursting through the door, my eyes home in on Casey who is cradling Rosalie in her arms while holding a bottle of milk to her tiny face. I must turn an angry shade of red as a ball of anger forms deep inside of my chest, for my entire family seems to shrink in on themselves when they lay their eyes on me. They look terrified of what I’m about to do. I know what I want to do. I want to rip this place apart, with me inside of it when it falls. However, Rosalie’s little suckling noises remind me that I can’t; that I have responsibilities now. So, instead, I march into the kitchen, far out of earshot, and growl into the empty, darkening space in front of me. I’m not even thinking properly when I slam my fist into the wall with such ferocity, it leaves a cracked dent in the plaster.

Mom soon comes rushing out with my uncle Stephen following closely behind as I roar out in anger again. My teeth are clenched together so hard, it hurts and causes my eyes to water.

“Xander,” my mom cries, “please, my baby boy…”

I don’t hear the pain in her voice because I can only focus on mine. All it achieves, is me stopping myself from pummeling the wall. Instead, I fall to the ground feeling completely broken. Eventually, with nowhere else for my anger to go, I lean against the dented plaster and cry out in fury and grief, with my shoulders shaking with violent sobs.

“Xander,” my uncle calls out softly before placing his hands over my shuddering shoulders, “I understand what you’re going through, believe me-”

“No, you fucking don’t!” I shout as I push him angrily away from me. “Beth and I were supposed to be parents…together! What the hell am I going to tell that poor little girl in there, huh?”

I know Mom is crying silently and I know I’ve just sucker-punched my uncle with my words, but right now, I hate everything and everyone.

“’Sorry, Rosalie, you’ve got a teenage father and your mother died giving birth to you. She was left alone to do it because your dip-shit father thought it would be a good idea to take off a month before you were due!?’”

I slap at my chest when I say this because the feeling of guilt inside is killing me, and I literally want to beat it out of me. I deserve no less.

“You weren’t to know-” Stephen tries to argue.

“’Oh, and by the way, you can’t go and visit mommy’s grave because some motherfucker stole her and claimed she belonged to him. Sorry about that, honey! Guess your pathetic excuse of a father couldn’t even save her in death either!’ What kind of father am I going to make? How am I going to do any of this without her? Please, tell me, I’m dying to know!”

I cover my face with my hands and shake uncontrollably as the tears flow freely down my face, unable to make any kind of peace with the fact that Beth is dead. She was my everything, and now she is gone…forever! There’s no saving her, no rescuing her from some evil piece of shit, just death! I can’t fight that; I can’t win her over from that! She was it for me, my everything!

Lifting my ass off of the ground so I can reach into my back pocket, I pull out the ring I had given to her for Christmas. I don’t look at it right away; I just hold it tightly inside of my fist, relishing in the sting of the metal digging into the palm of my hand, hoping it makes me bleed. She had left it in the bedside table drawer when her fingers became too swollen for her to wear it anymore. Mom and Stephen look at my hand, waiting for me to make the first move, the first sound. Eventually, I hold it out for them to see.

“I was going to propose after she had had the baby,” I confess.

The night we had danced to my makeshift LiveAid concert, I had decided that there was no reason to wait because I knew she was all I would ever need; her and our baby. We were going to make a life together in England, begin again away from it all. But now? Now it’s all turned to shit!

In the peripheries of my vision, as I stare at the taunting silver ring still held out in my hand, like an embodiment of all my regrets, I see Mom dive down to wrap her much smaller frame around mine, offering me the only support she can give. Eventually, I concede and hold her back, which only serves to break me into crying against her chest like I used to when I was a little boy. Unlike then, I don’t believe my hurt will ever go away. A hug from my mom isn’t going to end it this time.

“Xander?” My father’s anguished voice fills the room, forcing my mom back so I can look up at him. “Your phone rang. It’s Beth’s mom, son.”

I sniff back whatever sobs are left, wipe my face with the back of my hand, then try to at least look braver than I feel. He brings me the phone and I force myself to stand and take it. I inhale a deep breath and brace myself for what is going to be a truly horrible conversation.

“Hello?” I croak, not sounding like myself at all.

“Xander?” Jen says quietly, obviously crying, which tells me Lawrence has already given her the news. “Xander,” she asks again, this time breaking at the end into a whimper, “we got an email….an email, for fuck’s sake!” she whispers to herself in disbelief. “Xander, is it true? Is my baby gone?”

It takes a while to form any words, but after I let out a few cries myself, I manage to answer.

“I’m sorry, it’s true,” I gasp as she lets out a moan of sadness that hits me right through my chest. “She died giving birth to our daughter.”

“Why didn’t you call me? Why didn’t you tell us?” She sounds both hurt and angry all at the same time, something I can relate to because I’ve been stuck there ever since I had found Carol weeping in the cabin.

“B-because…” I have to pause to grip hold of my forehead while I desperately try to pull myself together. “Because I couldn’t!” I cry out my words, cracking with emotion at the end. “I’m so sorry, I couldn’t find the words. I didn’t want to face it, to let it be real. I loved her so much!”

I feel my mother wrap her arms around me and I cling onto one of them like a lifeline, as though she can fix it for me, even though she can’t.

“Where is she now? He said he’s already buried her and sent a copy of the death certificate!” I hear her voice changing, her grief now morphing into anger the more she speaks.

“I don’t know, he took her before I could even get to her. I can’t even lay her to rest! I couldn’t even say goodbye to her!” I plead with her to try and understand, to know that I would have done anything for this to not be true.

“Where were you?! Why weren’t you with her?!” she almost screams, now blaming me for what happened, something I cannot even argue with. I should have been there; I should never have left her. She deserves for me to grovel at her feet, but I can’t even speak anymore.

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