I feel like I made this sound a lot more dramatic than it was intended to be, shoutout to Go Radio for the inspiration (listen to Go To Hell and then try not to make everything dramatic, I mean really) Ok well if anyone besides Katie is reading this then hey
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The next few months went as normal. Of course by normal I mean no alcohol involved, at least for Andrew and I. Christmas came and went, we stayed in New York rather than going to either of our parents' houses. Jack was now gone, bringing our original group of 6 down to 4. Nate and Katie more or less did their own things, we'd see them anywhere from once a day to once a week. Katie began spending more time with her college friends, particularly Nattie. He was nice, but I really didn't know all that much about him. The cold stopped being so enjoyable after Christmas, leaving a permanent chill no matter how high the heat was turned up. As miserable as the weather was, I was happy. I had moments where I would miss having the whole group around, but I was also enjoying spending more time with just Andrew. Spring came earlier than expected, the snow began turning to rain in February rather than the typical March spring arrival in New York. Absolutely everything was going fine until March 14, 2013.
The check up began as normal, same as it had been the last 3 times.
"Casey we have some news" The doctor said, dressed in his typical white lab coat and holding his typical clipboard.
The weirdest thing about that day was how normal it seemed. Nothing was out of place, there were no tell-tale signs of something ominous approaching. I guess that's the problem with life though, you can never tell when something is about to tear your world apart.
"What's the news? Do you know if its a boy or a girl?"
"It was a girl."
"Was?" I figured that the doctor had misspoken, it didn't even cross my mind that he was implying what he said next.
"Casey...you've had a miscarriage."
And with those 5 words, the walls that I had been building up for 25 years came crashing down. The doctor came over and patted my back.
"We're going to have to induce labor on you. I'm so sorry for your loss."
Not that he was really sorry. Not that he really cared much at all. I'm sure he had told thousands of women the same thing. He probably didn't even cringe when he saw it in the test results.
"Can I call my...erm...fiancé?"
"Sure"
I unlocked my phone and pressed recent calls, hoping that the one I clicked on was Andrew's."
"Yeah?" He asked, picking up on the second ring.
"Andrew, I had a miscarriage." I said, attempting to stay composed.
"What?"
"We had a miscarriage." And again came the tears, probably more than I had cried in my whole life combined.
The doctor took the phone, explaining to Andrew what would happen next. He was looking at me while talking, most likely because he figured i'd want to know what had gone wrong and what would be next. But honestly, I didn't want to know. Maybe it was because I didn't want to hear how yet another thing had gone wrong. Andrew was in the office not too long after, just holding me for quite some time. I ended up being given a heavy dosage of morphine, so I really could not tell you what happened next, even if I tried.
I know that Andrew's hand was intertwined with mine the whole time. Even when I woke up in a hospital bed, the drugs barely losing their edge. He held my hand through that whole night, the next morning, and the taxi ride home. I stared out the window, feeling less at home in the city than ever. The buildings seemed less grand and more suffocating. When we got out of the taxi, I began walking in a zombie-like state to the apartment complex.
"Hey" Andrew said, standing in front of me and grabbing both of my hands so I couldn't progress forward.
I just stared at him.
"Everything's going to be ok. I promise. I love you."
"Love you too." I said hoarsely. Not that that made any sense at the moment, considering I had done nothing to throw my voice out at all. I guess along with the loss of will to live goes the loss of ability to speak normally. In the apartment, I absently watched TV for a few hours before going to sleep.
I slept until the next evening, not waking up once. If i'm not mistaken, I slept for 20 hours. I think it was the morphine leaving my system that contributed to this. When I woke up, I rolled over and grabbed my phone.
Ashley: I'm so sorry
I didn't even bother to reply. I just put my phone back down and walked out into the living area.
"Hey"
"Hi."
"Did you sleep well?"
I shrugged.
"I'm going to the bar."
"Do you want me to come?"
"No, it's ok."
"Are you sure?"
"I'm sure."
I went back, grabbed my phone and upgraded my pajamas for the first pair of jeans I could find. I walked in and took a spot at the bar. I guess someone had told George because he gave me a sympathetic look before passing me a beer. Half an hour later, Nate walked in looking just as tired and empty as he had since Jenna left. He locked eyes with me briefly before embracing me in a long hug. I just sat there like a rag doll before he let go to let me drink my beer in silence.
For the next week, Andrew would make multiple attempts to cheer me up a day, but to no evident avail. I appreciated it a lot, but it was impossible for me to physically show my gratitude. My dad tried to call a few times, but I wasn't in the mood to talk to him, let alone Andrew. The little bar ritual I had been following religiously for a week continued the particular night of the incident. It began with me downing a significantly large amount of beers (the college freshman version of me would have been extremely proud). Next, who else but Sarah the psychopath walked in.
"Casey?" She asked.
"What do you want?"
"You don't look so good"
"Wow, you're smart shit"
"I was just say-"
"Sarah, can you please leave me alone?"
"I just wanted to know-"
"You don't need to know anything!"
"But why do you-"
"Shut the fuck up!"
"No!"
And then, as cliché as it sounds, everything went black.
