Page 2 of What We Broke

The tears continue to fall and my body is now shaking, words still foreign.

Jesse releases the hold on my face and envelops me in his arms, hugging me to him tightly.

Closing my eyes, I continue to cry, and he starts kissing me, dropping soft pecks on the top of my head and my temple. I instinctively tilt my chin up and he slowly moves his mouth around my face. A kiss on each eye, kisses that line my jaw, kisses that catch my tears.

When our salty lips meet, we bask in the connection. It’s not the type of kiss that leads anywhere, rather it’s a kiss that keeps you grounded. In this moment, sharing the heartache and searching for strength.

When a tear that isn’t mine lands on my upper lip, I know I’m not the only one overwhelmed with emotion. Pulling back, I open my eyes and see Jesse’s own tear-streaked face.

It’s exactly like him to abandon his own feelings and take on everybody else’s; according to him there’s no need for him to be the priority.

I run my thumbs across his cheeks, wiping away his tears, and press kisses to his face, like he did mine. “Tell me what you need.”

It’s his turn to reply with a hopeless shrug. “Yesterday we were painting and laughing, and today…” His words trail off with a swift shake of his head. “I don’t know how we got here.” He catches me off guard when he places a clenched fist over his mouth and tries to stifle a sob. “This wasn’t supposed to happen,” he cries. “Not to us. Not to you. Not to Zara.”

“Hey,” I soothe, dragging his fist away from his mouth and holding his face in my hands. “We’ll figure it out,” I assure him. “In time, we will figure this all out.”

“I can’t do this without you,” he confesses before slamming his lips onto mine.

It’s rough and unexpected but no less heartbreaking. His mouth ravages mine, the trepidation gone, but the desperation and sadness still the driving force. His hands curl around the length of my neck, his thumbs pressing painfully into my skin.

But I stay still and let him have at me, nothing more than a pliable participant, because if this is what he wants, he can have it. I will give him anything that helps with this debilitating loss we are both going to feel for years to come.

One hand travels down my body to find the hem of my shirt. Sliding his palm against my skin, he places it directly over my heart as his mouth continues to take.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs against my lips, hand pressing against my chest. “I’m so sorry. I know how much you wanted this.”

“We,” I correct, placing my own hand firmly over his and squeezing. “Wewanted this.”

He nods just before returning his lips to mine. We’re back to slow and measured, a little less take and a whole lot more give.

A knock startles us both, and we pull apart as the kitchenette door opens. Glancing over Jesse’s shoulder, I see a familiar nurse’s face, her sad smile telling me everything I need to know.

“We’ll be there in a second,” I inform her.

Nodding, she closes the door behind her, and I shift my eyes back to him and press my forehead to his. “Highs and lows,” I say to him.

I watch his chest rise and fall as he repeats, “Highs and lows.”

With his hand squeezing mine, we walk back toward the hospital room, and for a single moment, I think maybe we can survive this. Maybe everything will somehow be okay.

Unfortunately, that would become the very first lie I ever would tell myself about my marriage.

Stepping into the room feels like I’m climbing up a mountain, the altitude getting higher, the air getting thicker.

It’s impossible to breathe.

I tighten my hand around Jesse’s, certain I’m cutting off his blood supply as I take in the view in front of me.

Zara has been propped up with pillows, and the nurses are now maneuvering her hospital gown to expose her swollen belly.

I can’t take my eyes off her stretched skin. Can’t stop thinking about how many times I had casually touched Zara’s stomach. Remembering all the times I knelt down on the ground to speak to our baby girl, and how hard she kicked when she heard my voice.

I can’t breathe.

My head lifts and I meet Zara’s watery, pain-filled, guilt-ridden gaze, and my next breath becomes even harder. There was so much history between us. So much love and friendship and happiness that felt unjustly strained right now.

We all had big feelings, and there was no handbook on how to navigate them in this situation.

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