All's Fair in Love and Las Vegas

Chapter Ninety-Eight

        A couple of weeks went by. Kylie and Clay continued living in their utopian, married life, still just as in love as ever. Nina and I took a day trip into D.C., which yes, I took a day off work for. It was fun, the two of us acting like tourists and seeing monuments and going to museums.

        April arrived. I appreciated the lack of April Fool's pranks that were played on me, with the only one being that Clay gave me a chocolate bar made of dirt. I didn't swallow and I found it pretty funny. 

        Thunderstorms arrived as well. The power was knocked out across several states, including at my house. I lit candles throughout the house, needing to see. Unfortunately, my phone was almost dead. I set my alarm for work, hoping it would survive. The hospital was running on generators, meaning I could charge my phone there.

        Work was complete chaos. Several people arrived late, there wasn't an outlet to be found, and the cafeteria was overrun with people trying to use the microwaves.

        I finally did charge my phone up on a break, snatching up an outlet. I curled up in a chair, trying to catch a moment to myself. I checked the power status; apparently most of Virginia was still in the dark. Including both my house and Kylie's. Sighing, I headed back to work.

        That night, I crawled into bed after a very dark shower. I was exhausted. Tomorrow would hopefully be better, but if the outage stayed strong, this could be a rough week.

        But when I woke up, I forgot all about work and the lack of power. Instead, all I could do was stare at the date.

        April fourteenth.

        Everlie's due date.

        Part of me forgot how to breathe.

        It shouldn't have meant anything. It had been months ago, last year that I'd gone to the hospital in Toronto. So long ago that it should've been a distant memory. Shaking, I dropped my phone on my chest, blankly staring at the ceiling. Maybe she would've been born today, maybe not. It was hard to believe that I was here now, that my life had been so unaffected by being pregnant. There'd been no baby. No sweet little angel living in my house. It was like a really bad nightmare I wasn't allowed to forget. 

        Rolling over, I brought my knees up, creating a ball of protection under the blankets. The snooze alarm went off, but I simply shut it off and laid there. I couldn't go to work. I just couldn't. If I did, I would crack. Burst into tears. Cry until my lungs burst. Something awful.

        I didn't call in either. I didn't care. They could figure out what to do without me. I might not go into work all week, honestly. My entire body felt like it weighed more than a boat. Moving felt odd. I couldn't sleep, either; instead I just laid awake for hours. I couldn't think. Thinking took too much energy. All I could do was be sad. Part of me wanted to regret it all. Getting pregnant was stupid, staying with the father was stupid, it was all stupid. Except I couldn't regret it–it was just something that had happened. Something I couldn't move past. 

        Around noon, I got up to take a sip of water. My jaw had been clenched for so many hours that it hurt to part my lips. I didn't bother to check if the power was back on. The candles had all dwindled down to stubs, burned out.

        Instead of going back to bed, I curled up on the couch, staring at the TV. It wasn't on. It was just there, showing my disheveled reflection. That's when my brain started flickering, letting me think for the first time in hours.

        I'd had a little girl.

        Then she'd been taken away. All in a matter of a week.