Page 42 of Sinister Hearts
What had I done wrong? How could this happen, and why? I had no answers, just confusion, and a deep torment. The doctors reassured me it was nothing that I did. So why did I feel like it was my fault? I felt like I couldn’t breathe. It felt likesomeone ripped out my heart from my very chest and now it was just vacant. I felt like life was ripped right out of me. I had no say. No control. I caved into myself, into my bed. Wondering what he or she would have looked like. If our baby would have had Jax’s hazel eyes, and my dark hair. I would never get to hold or kiss our baby. It wasn’t fair and it hurt so bad. I wanted to just disappear. How would I break this news to Jax, how could I possibly break my heart twice. I had known he was so excited to be a father. I decided Jaxon seeing me like this would ruin him. After being cleared to go home, I knew I had to tell him in person. I needed to be with him, the exhaustion hitting me like a brick.
Ma brought me herbal tea in bed. “We wanted to do it together, when we had more figured out, so you all wouldn’t be worried.” I was worried what her reaction would be. Would she be disappointed? Would she disown me? Or better yet, curse me to the gods?
Ma held me tight, crying with me. “Some things are never lost, mija,” she said, sitting the bowl of albondiga soup down on my weathered rustic dresser with a look of remorse.
“I’m so sorry I kept this from you, Ma,” I said, sitting up in my vintage white bed, my thick wool Mexican blankets hugging me. I was disappointed in myself, sipping my tea, wishing this heating pad fucking worked. I hated everything right now and was not feeling an ounce of guilt for my anger, knowing it was just buried grief.
“Shhh. Never, ever think like that. I thought it was odd you were eating all those frijoles.” Ma and I chuckled over tears.
“You would have been a great mother, Faye, and you still will,” she said, smiling at me. She always loved me so fiercely and tenderly. “Whatever is meant to be will be, always,” Ma reassured me, and took a picture of the first sonogram. “We will add this to the ofrenda every year.” Our eyes met withbroken smiles and broken hearts.I prayed to Micta that he would let our bean cross that bridge to visit me.
I was more concerned about breaking the news to Jax in person. We both knew this pregnancy was too soon and we were too young. But despite that, Jax seemed excited, no matter the fear that we shared as unexpected parents. What would I even say? How would I face him with this painful reality? I grabbed my keys and headed towards the Grimwood farm in my black single cab Chevy. I had to tell him, and the worst part, it was Thanksgiving. I thought about concealing this news until tomorrow, but I just couldn’t take this heartbreak alone. I needed him. I needed him to hold me and tell me everything was going to be okay. Jax deserved to know. I couldn’t keep this from him, knowing this would ultimately send him into a whirlwind of emotions if I kept it from him any longer.
Ifound Faye on the bathroom floor, completely somewhere else, with the sink still running. She had a blank stare on her face. My girl was lost again and I knew exactly where she went. I sat down on the floor with her. “Faye?” I said, and grabbed her face gently, so she would look at me. But there was no expression, nobody was there. She was pale and lost. I picked her up and put her on her bed, embracing her with my warmth. She caved in my strong, sturdy arms. There wasn’t a damn thingI could do except hold her so tight, I hoped it would piece her back together.
“You really thought I didn’t care?”
My eyes went wide, not prepared for that question right now.
“This has been my life every year for five years, Jax,” she whimpered.
“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry I hurt you, that I left. I’m sorry I hurt you, Faye. I’m sorry you’re still hurting and I couldn’t see it,” I replied, in immediate regret, and kissed the top of her brunette head. “I wish I could take those words back, baby.” I wasn’t the only one who was haunted by our past, and I existed for five years believing I was. A fool, a self-centered boy who had no idea what the hell he was doing, or even how to process something I wanted so bad it ached at me relentlessly.
After twenty minutes of holding her in silence, I got off the bed and grabbed her beautiful face.
“Listen, yes we lost our bean, and we even lost each other for a while. But what matters is that we found each other again. I want to make so many more babies with you, Faye Robles, and we will, when the time is right. I promise, myljos. We have Birdie, and now there’s nothing more that I want than to be a part of both your lives,” I said, reassuring her.
Faye looked up at me. “Do you mean that?” she said, wiping her tears.
“With every breath in me, baby girl,” I replied, Faye kissing me as we melted into each other. “Let’s change the narrative. Let’s make every Thanksgiving the best we can, for Bean.”
She looked at me with pure admiration and love in her eyes. A word I hadn’t expressed to her just yet, but I would when the moment was perfect and not filled with overwhelming griefs. “Okay.”
She smiled as we headed to the kitchen, hand in hand. I would walk my girl out of her darkness for the rest of our lives, as long as that little light tinkered.
Faye wanted to make it the best Thanksgiving there ever was for Birdie, at Ma’s house with my pop and the Robles family. I loved the way she threw herself into the holidays for her. I watched her come alive again, dancing in the kitchen as she cooked with Stefani, basking in the food’s delicious scent. Was this happiness? Possibly, a glimpse. I thought about our unborn child. How I wished somehow, one day, we would have one of our own. I wanted to fill her up with so many of me. I wanted her and me in one soul, one body. I wanted it so bad, it hurt.
“Let us break bread at this table. May we feast!” my father cheered from the table. The guys sung in a beautiful Nordic melody as they drank from their cups, cheering as we all gathered in. I looked around the table, watching the people I loved feast. We were a peculiar group. A group I proudly claimed with pride. My family. Faye caught me gazing at her.
“What are you looking at, cowboy?” Faye tipped my hat and kissed me.
“Just my whole world,” I replied, taking her in my arms as we danced in the kitchen, where I dipped and twirled her.
Changing the narrative was exactly what we needed. We spent the rest of the day eating delicious food, and surrounded by great people. It was nearly a dream. I finally felt happiness, amazed at the long road that got me here. Even though there were plenty of bumps in the road, I had managed to surpass everything that was thrown at me. I knew a piece of me would hurt forever. But Jax was right. We had a fresh start after five years and we were going to make it count. I was blessed withBirdie and my family. I watched Jax play a tea party with her in her playhouse, barely fitting, and pretending to drink tea. It had me in a fit of laughter.
“Thank you, little lady.” Jax tipped his pinky up, crossing his bulky muscular long legs. I was feeling incredibly lucky at this moment. My heart strings strung in a perfect melody. The rest of the family inside watched college basketball, Creed and Ryker still stuffing their bellies with our homemade casseroles and turkey while Ma and Rocky played LOTERIA over some beer. Sadly, Penny was not in attendance. I was missing that cynical, sour-patch bitch. Penny traveled to Italy with her parents every Thanksgiving to spend time with her grandfather, Stoker. The man always gave me the ultimate creeps. Not in a perverted way, but in a Count Orlock type of way. He was a creepy-ass motherfucker who made my skin crawl. But there was one thing for certain, Stoker loved his granddaughter, his precious little Penny. We used to make fun of her growing up, mocking him during sleepovers while we fought over pillow fights.Those were some of the best times of my life. I had a lot of core memories with my primas. Dancing to Selena and making up routines. Penny was always the princess of the group and the youngest—the popular cheerleader, while Rocky and I had our own side quests. We were different, but we were always close. Always supporting each other's endeavors and differences alike.
Penny was always rocking the latest fashions and high-end brand names from her Grandpa Stoker, who happened to be super wealthy in Italy. I was wondering when she’d be back because I hadn’t heard from her in a while. A gut-wrenching feeling pulled in the pit of my stomach.
“Hey, Rocky, have you heard from Penny by any chance?” I asked out of curiosity.
Rocky lifted her dark eyes from her card. “She’s in Italy living her best life. Probably busy fucking some hot Italian piece of ass,” Rocky replied, chuckling.
“Language!” Ma smacked Rocky on top of her head with her card. She was probably right, but usually she would be constantly sending us selfies in her luxurious rentals with her Givenchy bags. She didn’t mean it, but Penny was a boaster, and why shouldn’t she be? Yes, she was spoiled, but Penny was also a bad-ass business woman with a degree in law, who owned her own firm. She deserved it all and more. She was a hard worker, maybe even a little too hard, with no time for play these days. I missed that hoochie. A complete homebody if you’ve ever known one. You wouldn’t find Penny at the saloon. She was always tucked away in her Victorian office, working. I pulled out my phone to call her, but there was no ringtone. It went straight to voicemail. She never answered, but was always good about getting back to you. Her attention was constantly on her work. So I decided to text her instead.
Hey, prima, how's Italy?
Happy Turkey Day!
