Page 63 of Falling for You
I set the timer for five minutes and divided the ice cream into two different bowls for us, making a hole in the middle for the lava cake. I place the small bowl of peanut butter sauce into the microwave to get it hot and melty just how Emma loves it.
The timer goes off for the oven, and I pull the cakes out to put them into their bowls. Gathering a tray, I place both bowls on it and head into the living room but I don’t see Emma. The television isn’t even on for her documentary.
“Ems?”
No response. I place the tray on the ottoman.
I walk up the stairs, maybe she’s changing?”
“Ems?” I yell out once more.
I hear soft sobs coming from Olivia’s room. When I turn the corner, I see Emma sitting in the middle of the room on the small unicorn rug, with her face buried in Olivia’s pink blanket that we use when we rock her and Fi at her side.
“What do I do, Rome? What am I supposed todo?”
I sit down on the floor next to her and pull her into my lap. She wraps her arms around my neck, the blanket covers my shoulder.
“Hey, it’s okay. We’ll get through this, and we’ll get our girl back. I’ve never known you to back down without a fight from something you want.”
“This is different.” She sucks in multiple shallow breaths as she tries to catch her breath from crying.
There is nothing I can say, nothing that will bring our babies back and soothe her pain.
I lift her in my arms and stand from the floor. Fiona is standing in the doorway with her head cocked to the side, trying to figure it all out. She’s always been able to pick up on her human’s moods.
I walk past her to go into the bedroom, depositing Emma into the bed and covering her up. I pat the bed at Emma’s feet for Fiona to jump up and join us. She ignores me, and plops herself right next to Emma, in her arms. She can apparently sense what she needs more than I can.
I slide into bed behind her, pulling the duo closer to me.
“Sunshine, I need you to talk to me. I need to know what you’re feeling and thinking because I’m getting worried about you.”
“I lost our baby, it was my fault, and now I’ve lost Olivia for us. Why can’t I keep our babies safe? Fuck, Olivia isn’t even mine!” She continues to wail into Fiona’s fur.
“Why do you think that the miscarriage was your fault?” I need to understand more, I need to understand so I know how to help her move forward. Or defer to someone else who can.
“I was drinking, Rome! I was drinking so much as an excuse to be at the brewery, and I didn’t know I was pregnant! How fucking dumb can I be?”
I pull her closer to me. “That is not your fault, how could you know? Did the doctor say that was the reason?”
She hiccups, her sobs lessening. “No. She said that it could be any number of reasons. That it’s common and sometimes we don’t know why.”
“Then you can’t keep holding yourself accountable. This is not your fault at all. You are amazing, and take care of your body. Please, stop blaming yourself.” She nods slowly in my arms, but I can tell this will take some more prodding. “Now let’s move on to Livvy girl. Why are you blaming yourself?”
“Why aren’t you? I should have known. I should have known after losing our baby what Diane was feeling. I can’t imagine having my child for as long as she did and to lose her so suddenly? Why would she willingly give up the one piece that could tie her to her daughter?”
Ah. That’s why.
With abundant clarity I see the connection between her reaction and Olivia. She thinks that she should have seen the Ryans for what it was. That she should have never gone out—drinking again—and let Olivia go.
With all the dots connected, I spin her in my arms. Fiona grunts as she’s rolled the opposite direction from Emma’s arms. I grasp her face in my hands.
“Emma Keaton, you are going to listen to me right now. Are you listening to me?” She nods. “Youare not to blame. And we’re done blaming ourselves. No matter what grief we were experiencing, neither one of us would do what the Ryans did. To keep a baby from her father is a choice they are making. Not you. A miscarriage, is not your fault. You did nothing to make that happen. It’s tragic and brings a lot of grief, but you didn’t do it.”
I pull her to me, crashing her into my chest. Her sobs get desperate again as she claws at me, trying to get closer to me. Like no contact is enough for her. My heart is breaking for her. My poor sweet Fi, picks up on what Emma needs and lays down behind her, pushing her into me and squeezing her between us.
“I love you, Sunshine.”
She doesn’t answer, her tears soaking through my shirt is the only response I get.
