The Lies We Told

“If you’re reading this, I want you to know that I don’t regret meeting you… I just regret everything else…”

“I’m fine,” Carlie lied, her eyes glazing over as she watched the rain tap against the windowpane. She’d been sitting alone in the living room for hours, but even I knew she wasn’t looking at anything out in the yard.

No, what she was looking at was eternity; an endless sea of possibilities that was slowly vanishing before her very eyes. A deep-rooted maternal instinct that had welcomed her like an old friend, only to leave her brokenhearted and bare – a lifeless husk of everything she wished she could be. She was staring out that window, because deep down she’d have rather been swept away in the rain as opposed to spending another second sitting on that damn couch.

And how could I blame her?

So did I.

The drive home from the doctor’s office was probably the longest thirty minutes of my entire life. Just over a week ago, we’d gotten the news; two pink lines. And don’t get me wrong, we were scared shitless, but we were going to make it work. I couldn’t have been over twenty years old, but by God, I was going to make it work.

At least, that’s what I thought I was going to do.

That day was supposed to be a normal check-up. Something that would take maybe an hour or so at most, then we’d go on about our afternoon – blissfully unaware of all the things life had in store for us. Instead, what we got was a thirty-minute crash course in all the risks associated with ectopic pregnancies and a handful of pills. By the time we made it home, all Carlie wanted to do was curl up on the couch and cry. And just like the rain tapping against our living room window, her tears didn’t show any signs of stopping.

Not knowing what to say, I got up to get her a tissue only to freeze when I stepped into the kitchen.

On the table was a box of maxi-pads.

One was missing.

In my head I could hear the doctors’ words repeating over and over like some sort of fiendish lullaby.

‘There might be a little blood when it passes.’

…it…

That fucking bitch didn’t even have the heart to call it what it really was; a life! A human being that might have changed the world! Something that Carlie and I would have poured our souls into! A joy beyond all joys!

Now, ‘it’ was just a speck of blood in the toilet. A little red blot so small and insignificant that we didn’t even bother giving it a name. Something that got flushed away along with all our hopes and dreams.

‘It’ was our future…

And now it was gone.

Sitting back down on the couch, I handed Carlie the box of tissues.

“Thank you,” she whimpered.

I didn’t say anything. Not because I didn’t want to, but because what the hell could I say?

‘You’re welcome?’ Welcome for what?

Blowing her nose, she tossed the tissue onto the coffee table. Before the night was over, it’d be covered in them.

Turning to me, she tried her best to put on a strong face.

“What about you?” she asked. “Are you alright?”

Taking a deep breath, I nodded my head.

“Yeah,” I lied. “Yeah, I’m fine too.”

We broke up a few months later.