Page 102 of Geordie

I sit up, rocked by his admission. “I'm sorry,” I mutter.

He leans forward, elbows on knees, wringing his hands. “What I'm saying is, if you ever want to talk, just talk, I'll listen with no judgment or advice unless you ask. My advice will never be stupid shit like what all these assholes say because they don't have a clue of what you're going through, and it will always be between you and me.”

Since the miscarriage, no one has asked me how I feel or if I want to talk. Alienation is foreign to me. I never questioned my place in the world, my sanity, or my manhood, but this grief has me asking why I can't get past this.

After I returned to my apartment, I wanted to see what Lily saw on the internet. I found the women telling their stories raw, real, even brave. There were no men telling their side of the experience, not in the details I needed to hear. There were videos advising men to talk about the effects of miscarriage, but no honesty of how it feels, no support I could use.

I ease back into the recesses of the couch, while William waits for an answer. “If we do this,” I start, staring at the ceiling, “I'll need another drink.”

Chapter forty-nine

Sexy Scottish Brogue

Lily

Mom,Maria,andthegroup sessions I attended on the advice of Dr. Rivera gave me the support I needed to heal. I still have more to do, but I can see a way through my feelings. I'll be forever grateful to these women who offered their help.

Going through a routine each day is the only balm for me to find peace. The Dalliance crew walks around me as if I'm made of fine porcelain on the verge of falling off a shelf. I know they mean well. They just don't know what to say or do to make my return to the kitchen better. I put them at ease by getting on with the business of cooking, and day by day we inch closer to our normal.

Tired from the restaurant, I'm happy that I'm only a few steps from my door and my bed. Before I round the corner in the hallway, I can hear pounding. Neighbors are peeking out, some stepping into the hall and gawking at the man trying to beat down my door. “Lily!” he bellows, another fist landing on the door. “I know you're in there. I just want to talk.”

I wave a “sorry” at my concerned neighbors. “Geordie, I'm here. No need to break in.” He sways a little on his heels as he turns and blinks with a blurry smile. I sidestep him to get to my apartment. The whiff of whiskey is strong as I shove the key in the lock. I sweep my hand toward the open door. His steps are measured as he moves into the dark apartment. I switch on a light and drop my bag. “You're going to pay for any damage to my door.”

He swings toward the door, his balance dubious, blinking at the entrance. “Not a problem,” digging into his back pocket, pulling out his wallet, opening it, then squints at the contents. With deft fingers, he flicks out a black card. “Do you take credit? I seem to be short on dosh at the moment.”

“Why are you here?” I ignore the extended card.

He shrugs, slipping it back into his wallet, then into his pocket. “Did you ever get a supply of whiskey? I remember you considered picking that up.”

“I think you've had enough, unless you're bathing in it. You said you wanted to talk, so talk.”

He walks deeper into the apartment as I flick switches to light our way. He wanders into the kitchen, taking a seat at the counter. I take pity on him and retrieve two tumblers. He smiles at me, probably thinking we're going to continue his drinking binge. Instead, I open the refrigerator and retrieve a pitcher of orange juice. “You must be thirsty,” filling a glass, then sliding it across to him.

“Aye, thank you.” He drains the glass, then sets it down. “How are you, Lily? We haven't spoken in weeks.”

I'm not interested in detonating that bomb. He's been drinking; it should be easy to redirect him. “You're probably hungry,” sliding myself off the stool. “I've got cold chicken; we can have a picnic.”

He swats the glass, sending it skidding back to me. “Lily, it's a simple question. If we don't talk tonight, I'll leave and I'm not coming back. Whatever is between us is done.”

The plan to redirect just fell to shit. I hitch my foot on the back of the counter stool, leaning on the backrest. “I'm better since the last time you saw me.”

His eyes narrow, and he’s probably judging the truth of my statement. “Why haven't you answered any of my texts?” he demands.

Heat prickles my skin as anger rises. Those days all come back to me. The time he deserted me. “Because I needed your support and got nothing from you. Losing our baby didn't affect you at all.” I try to measure my words, but they tumble out more bitterly than I expected.

Shock widens his eyes. “How can you say that?” My tone is flung back at me. “I was here with you, took care of you for three days until your real support arrived.”

I ignore the last jab; he left me, relieved to leave me to Mom and Maria. “All that time you were a robotic male going through the motions dry-eyed, thin-lipped, and grinding your teeth when I couldn't control my emotions. You couldn't wait to get away.”

He rubs his face as he thinks, taking hard breaths. “I was trying to be strong for you. One of us had to be. Can't you see I gave you space to grieve?”

“What I wanted was for us to grieve together. You didn't talk, I couldn't get you to talk, you just told me everything would be fine, not to worry.”

“You never asked how I felt, but it doesn't matter,” he roars into my face. “You don't understand that everyone grieves in their own way. I'm not surprised. Everything has to be your way, or it's not valid, or you don't take part.”

“That's not true!” My mind is trying to recall those days. Didn't I ask him? There was too much pain to remember. “I changed my life for you. It was me who bore your child, and it was me who suffered this loss.” I look away, not able to bear the hurt in his eyes; I've gone too far.

“Look, Lily, you've strung me along, kept me at arm's length to get what you wanted. You used my need for a child to hold me hostage to get your way. This isn't about me; this is about you. I've done what you asked and compromised, because I thought things would eventually change, that you would change.” He shakes his head. “I don't have to ask where we go from here. I can see this is the end.”

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