The loneliest moment in someone's life is when they are watching their whole world fall apart, and all they can do is stare blankly.
~ F. Scott Fitzgerald
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1 year later
I stand frozen in the doorway, my gaze fixed on the half-finished nursery, a constant reminder of the shattered dreams and crushed hopes. It's been months since I've mustered the courage to step foot in here, the pain of that unexpected day still searing my soul. My eyes land on the forlorn teddy bear sitting in the rocking chair, its glassy stare seeming to pierce my very heart. I approach it slowly, as if drawn by an unseen force, and scoop it up, clutching it tightly to my chest. The softness of its fur is a cruel contrast to the ache within me. I sink into the chair, my grip on the bear unyielding, as if it's the only thing keeping me anchored to reality.
My gaze drifts up to the stickers above the crib, the name "Dallas" taunting me like a cruel joke. The memories come flooding back, each one a razor-sharp blade slicing through my heart. I force myself to breathe, the air catching in my throat as I struggle to contain the anguish. I let the bear fall to the floor.
That fateful night, four months shy of my due date, I awoke to an excruciating pain in my stomach, like a knife twisting deep within me. My arms felt like lead weights as I struggled to lift them, my blankets suffocating me. When I finally managed to throw them off, my gaze fell upon the sheets, and my heart shattered into a million pieces. The crimson stain told the devastating truth - my precious Dallas was gone.
Panic set in as I stumbled towards the kitchen phone, my mind racing. Every step I took felt like a death march, as if I was walking closer to my own demise with each agonizing breath. Yet, in that moment, only one person came to mind - Ryder.
It wasn't unusual to call him, Our nightly talks had become a lifeline, a connection to the world outside my isolation. But at this ungodly hour, I doubted he'd answer.
As I slid down the wall, the phone's ringing seemed to echo through the silence like a death knell. The line seemed to ring forever, each passing moment an eternity. Blood trailed behind me like a gruesome breadcrumb trail, leading to the hallway of my shattered dreams. I covered my mouth, stifling a scream that threatened to consume me whole. The wait was a blur, until finally, Ryder's voice broke through the darkness...
"Charlotte?" Ryder's sleepy voice spoke through the phone, I tried to speak, to form words, but all that escaped my lips was a heart-wrenching sob. The sound seemed to shake Ryder awake, his voice suddenly concerned. "Charlotte, tell me, what's wrong?" he demanded.
"The baby... I'm bleeding," I managed to choke out, the words feeling like a death sentence. Ryder gasped, "Charlotte, you need to go to the hospital, now!" he exclaimed, his voice now fearful.
But I didn't move. I couldn't move. I was paralyzed by the weight of my grief, the crushing realization that I was losing yet another person I loved. I hung up the phone, the silence that followed deafening. I didn't call 911, I didn't rush to the hospital, I didn't even move from my spot on the floor. I was frozen in a sea of despair, unable to escape the torment seems to always find me.
All I could think was, "What have I done to deserve this life?" I had left behind everyone I loved, everyone who mattered, to start anew, to build a better life for my son and me. And for what? So I could sit here, alone and broken, with nothing but my tears to keep me company? I was back at square one, lost and defeated, with no escape from the agony that had become my life.
I walk to the door, and take one last look at the room that could've been. The thought of returning to Tulsa has been a constant whisper in my mind, a siren's call that grows louder with each passing day. My phone calls with Ryder are nice, but it can't fill the void that's been growing inside me.
It was a struggle to to find this house, I had to fight to make it mine. No one wanted to sell to a young, jobless girl. Of course they were unaware of the settlement that I had received from my father, and I wasn't one to be too flashy with my money. But when I walked into this white house with its wraparound porch, I knew it was meant to be mine. It was my mother's dream, and I wanted to raise my family within its walls. Now, with my baby gone, the emptiness echoes through every room.
My job as an editor is a passion, but it's a solitary existence. One day a week in the office, the rest spent alone at home. I've grown accustomed to the quiet, sometimes even finding solace in its simplicity. But the truth is, I miss Tulsa, the familiarity of its streets, and most of all, I miss Dally. His absence has left a gaping hole in my heart, a constant reminder of what I've lost. The quiet life I once dreamed of now feels like a lonely prison, and I can't help but wonder if it's time to break free, but I don't think I'm ready yet.
I'm not sure how Dally or any of the gang is doing, Ryder and I made a silent pact to avoid the topic, a fragile truce that keeps our conversations shallow, but safe. I can't bear the thought of hearing about their lives without me, the fear of being replaced, forgotten, or worse, loved less. So I don't ask, I don't dare to.
Every day, without fail, I yearn for Dally's touch, his warm embrace, his gentle caress. My dreams are my only solace, where he visits me every night, his presence so vivid, so real, that I wake up with tears streaming down my face, mourning the loss of his love once more. I feared that time would erase the memory of his voice, but his melodic tone still echoes in my mind.
I long to see his brown eyes sparkle, his hands roam my body like they once did, with a passion that set my soul ablaze. Even his temper, his fierce attitude, I miss it all, the good and the bad, every moment we shared. I need to see him, to hold him, to feel his love once more, to know that he still loves me, that he still wants me.
The phone rings from the kitchen, my feet quickly carries me down the stairs. "Hello, this is Charlotte." I spoke softly.
"Charlotte..." the voice on the other line causes my heart to clench. I take a moment of silence, mentally debating hanging up or not. "This is Mark."
"Yes..." I search for the words, "Mark...How are you?" I manage to mutter out. I clear my throat, "Sorry, I was just taken back."
Mark's sigh is a heavy burden that settles in my ears, "Mom passed away this morning..." The words hang in the air, and I know exactly where this conversation is headed. He's going to ask me to return to Tulsa, to come back to the place I've tried so hard to escape. My mind races with the implications, my heart already aching with the knowledge that I'll have to confront the demons I've been running from.
"Oh, Mark..." I say, my voice barely above a whisper, my empathy for his pain warring with my fear of facing my own. "Her funeral is Saturday... I'd love for you to come... I know things haven't always been easy between us, but I'd like to catch up." His voice cracks, and I can almost hear his tears falling. I bite the inside of my cheek, trying to stem the tide of emotions that threaten to overwhelm me. "You know I wouldn't miss it," I say, my heart betraying my mind, my words a promise I'm not sure I can keep. My heart demands that I go, that I face my fears and confront the ghosts of my past, but my brain screams at me to stay away, to avoid the pain and the heartache that Tulsa represents.
"See you Saturday, Charlie."
I want to smile, but I can't. I hang up and take a seat at the island. My head rests in my palms. I have to return to Tulsa in three days.
