Page 64 of Choosing My Happiness
I didn’t kill him. I didn’t kill my sweet, little, innocent baby. I tried to keep him alive. I called for help. Ibeggedfor help. Bull and Jim were the only ones who answered my call. It broke me so hard that he was born dead. It broke me over and over again holding him stiff and cold, gazing at his closed eyes, wondering if they would have been yellow or blue. I couldn’t stop myself. It broke me when I had to leave him in that hospital.
I held him, prayed for miracles, cried myself to sleep holding my empty belly and watching my blood flow down the showerdrain afterwards. Waking in the middle of the night with imagined kicks. I still missed him. I still look at children that would be the same age as him and think what if.
I hated Mom. Ihatedher. Living in her dream world and secretly despising me. Blaming me for BJ’s death. I did the best I could. She didn’t even visit me in the hospital. If I thought I hated her yesterday, that was nothing. I despised the rotten miserable hag. I was done with her. Our relationship was dead. She could die alone with no one as far as I cared. She was dead to me. Dead, dead, dead.
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Chapter 43: Jim
I took my coffee mug outside and looked over Grandma’s orchard. The sight usually filled me with happy memories of her chasing my sister and brother out here to collect fruit for jams, pies, or simply eating. I actually think she did it to get us out from under her feet, but the result was always delicious. I missed Grandma. I wish she could have met Daisy. I think she’d be impressed with her.
Ever since I saw Daisy lying on the floor of her bathroom, blood leaking from her, I’d been amazed by her. Her strength, her tenacity, her spirit. She’s never broken down. With everything that had been thrown at her, she stepped up and did what needed to be done. Even when she had to give birth to BJ, she cried, but she did it. She loved him. She took what moments she could to be his Mom, even though it wasn’t enough. That baby…I sighed and shook my head. I fell in love with that child,even though he wasn’t mine. I just know he would have been an amazing kid.
Yesterday was different for Daisy. Yesterday, she was hurt and confused. Daisy always had direction. She always knew who and what to fight for. But this time, it felt like she didn’t. My fairy queen was directionless, other than her ongoing battle to get the divorce and be with me. I was tempted to call her, but she might be having a heart to heart talk with Molly, reconnecting. Hopefully, with Matchstick out of the way, with his toxic ideals of club life, they might be able to find peace. And hopefully with Matchstick’s other daughter showing up, Molly would understand and back off of the Blaze crusade. I sighed, Daisy deserved peace. She’d been through enough hell to last a lifetime. I missed her.
I leaned on the porch railing and pulled out my phone. I looked at the screen and tried to talk myself out of contacting her. I failed. I sent her a message.
‘Hey Tough Girl’
…
What else do I write? Hope it’s going well? Let me know if you need anything? Can I see you again before you leave?
I shoved the phone back into my pocket in frustration, without writing out any of these. I couldn’t do anything more until Daisy was free and clear. She was not Blaze. She was not going to cheat. I hung my head down in defeat. I still wished I could do more.
My phone buzzed with a message. I just about ripped my pants trying to get it out. It was a message with one word from her.
Help
I hit the call button as I rushed through the house, grabbing my helmet and keys.
There was no answer as it rang out into voicemail. I hung up and called again. This time she picked up, but all I could hear was panicked sobbing.
“Daiz?!”
“I don’t know where I am!” she wailed.
“It’s alright, baby. I’m coming. Are you still in town?”
“No, I had to go…she’s horrible. She’s mean and nasty and th…thinks…she thinks…Jim! Help me. I can’t see. I can’t…I can’t…” Daisy’s breathing was shaky and uncontrolled. She was in a bad way. My mind was screaming at me to just get to her. First, I needed to find out where she was.
“Where are you?”
“Car…highway.”
“Were you heading home to the city?”
I could hear her panting as she struggled to breathe. “Yes,” she forced out.
“Are you still driving?” Please God no, please let her be stopped. She could kill herself if she was still driving in the state she was in.
“No, I’ve…I’ve stopped…I…I couldn’t see,” she panted.
“Are you stopped on the side of the road? Or at a stop.”
“Side. Of. Road.”
Her words were coming in between breaths as she hyperventilated, but I had enough information to go searching. I just needed to go up the highway. I shook my bike between my thighs and listened to the almost full tank. Right, I was set.
