It worked, that simple word forced my eyes up and to meet his again. Both of our chests moved in a matching rhythmic speed. I shied my eyes away, looking out into the parking lot away from him. I couldn’t look into those eyes and break his heart with the news I had. I began to ache, knowing that I would have to relive the emotional heart-wrenching pain all over again. Lifting my hands from my lap, I laid them on the table and looked down at them. We were a mere inch away. His fingers flexed, I stilled, and with my reaction, he brought his hands under the table, rubbing them along his thighs.
“Would you like something to drink?” His voice was low yet steady; I knew it was an attempt to get me talking. I nodded. “Tea?” he asked. When I nodded again, he stood and walked over to the front counter to order our drinks.
Exhaling deeply, I stared at his back as he stood in line. I wanted to run up to him, throw my arms around his neck, and tell him I love him so much and that the past couple weeks had been nothing but miserable without him. Then I thought of all the lies, my brother, his still working for that man, and I couldn’t bring myself to do it. He looked over his shoulder, and a very small, crooked smile formed when he saw I was staring. Pressing his lips together, he glanced down and then focused back on the line.
Tearing away, I blankly stared out at the trees. I knew this was going to be hard to do. Even though I practiced over and over how and what I was going to say, each time I cried. In person, it would be even harder, and I knew my tears would take over, and it would be so difficult to concentrate on what I’d practiced.
Marcus returned, sliding into his chair. He placed the tea in front of me. Looking up at him, I gently smiled. “Thank you,” I said softly. He nodded while taking a sip of his coffee.
Closing his eyes, his eyebrows came together. He seemed to be thinking, and then before I could say anything, he placed the cup aside and brought his hand to mine. “Mia, I miss you so much.” He breathed out as if he were holding it in the entire time.
Searching my face, he remained still. His touch shot warm, familiar electricity through my veins. “I miss you too,” I admitted. I did; it wasn’t a lie. His eyes grew wide with hope, and I couldn’t lead him on. “But, that’s not why I’m here, Marcus.” His brows furrowed with confusion.
Attempting to swallow again, I bit my lip, trying to think of the best way to say this. There was no best way; no matter how I said it, it would destroy him. “Marcus, I asked you here because I thought you had a right to know in person.” Looking down at our joined hands, my eyes stung with tears.
He gently squeezed my hand. “The right to know what?”
I brought my eyes back to him, “A right to know that the night we’d gotten into the argument, that night I bled, a lot. I called Dr. Lee … and when I arrived at the hospital ...” I paused to hold back my sobs as the tears rudely escaped my eyes. Still keeping his hand locked to mine, he brought the other against my face, cupping my cheek. He repeatedly stroked his thumb along the moisture. I closed my eyes, allowing slow steady breaths to calm me before opening them. “Marcus, I lost our baby … I miscarried.” I cried.
“What?” He shook his head, not wanting to believe what I just said. He searched everywhere in our area, letting out deep breaths, taking in the words, the loss. Fixing his gaze down on our hands, panting, he cocked his head to the side, studying our hold. “It’s my fault,” he whispered.
Squeezing his hand tighter, I lowered my head, trying to fix his eyes with mine. He didn’t stare at me. “Marcus, it’s no one’s fault.”
His eyes finally met mine, “Oh yeah? Then how did it happen?”
Shaking my head, I slightly shrugged. “Dr. Lee said anything could’ve happened, lack of nutrition, stress, anything, Marcus.”
“You were always stressed because of me.” He pointed at his chest with his free hand. “You were always worried about me, scared every other night, afraid that something would happen to me. Then the whole Romeo and Lou situation and the documents you found … all because of me, Mia.”
“Marcus, I …” I couldn’t say anything to that. Yes, it was true I was always worried sick about him, but to blame the miscarriage on him was too much. I couldn’t allow him to think it. It wouldn’t be fair to him. “Marcus it is not your fault. Things like this happen all the time; it’s normal. I’ll be fine, and so will you.”
“You went through it on your own? You must’ve been scared, and I wasn’t there. I was … ugh.” He shook his head disgusted with himself.
The anger I felt towards him slowly drifted as I looked into his wounded eyes. Yes, my body was the one that physically went through the changes of carrying and losing our child, and yes it would take time for me to physically and mentally heal. But I knew he fell in love with our child the moment I told him I was pregnant. His love grew even more when he saw the peanut-shaped body on the ultrasound. This was just as hard for him as it was for me.
I wasn’t exactly sure what I was doing; all I knew was that we couldn’t stay in here any longer. I stood, his hand still with mine, and began to move towards the door. He followed behind me as we slowly walked out of the café and into the parking lot. Spotting his all-black, tinted Mercedes, I headed towards it. Once we were by his car, I leaned against the back-passenger door and pulled him into me. Wrapping my hands under his arms, I hugged him tightly. I wanted to comfort him. I wanted him to comfort me. With his arms firmly around the middle of my back, we did just that for a long time. We said nothing, did nothing—just soothed each other.
It was bizarre how out in the parking lot even while people walked by minding their business, this felt more private to me than in that secluded, tiny shop. Not bothering to see if anyone was staring at us because at this moment I truly didn’t care, I closed my eyes and sank my head into his chest. I took in his oh-so-familiar lingering scent, allowing myself to savor this moment, not sure how long it would last, but knowing that it would eventually have to end. He did as well when he lowered his head, burying it into the base of my neck.
A tiny painful sigh released from him as he tightened his arms around me. The slight movement lifted me to the tip of my toes, causing the side of our cheeks to lightly brush. The brush of his growing beard was a strange feeling. His face, always smooth and freshly shaved, now pricked with tiny hairs. I didn’t mind though, allowing him to gently tickle my smooth skin with the hair. He slowly brought his head around, pressing his forehead to mine, and the tips of our noses brushed. His lips faintly parted, and the warmth of his breath throbbed against my chest.