Daniel Seavey
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My mind registers the sound of the front door closing.
He's home.
My body shakes.
I can't tell him. How can I? How do I even bring it up? I've failed him.
After several minutes spent in the bathroom, my husband slides into bed. I feel him reach over to me in the dark, like he always does.
"Goodnight, baby," he whispers, like he always does. Whether I'm awake or asleep and whether he works late nights or not, he does it every time he gets in bed without fail. Usually, it makes me smile.
Baby.
One minute of blood pounding in my ears is the time it takes to convince myself that I need to tell him. Now.
I sit up and lean over to my bedside table, turning on the light.
"Daniel," I say, not even turning my head to his side of the bed.
"You're still awake," he says. I feel him jostling around to an upright position. "What do you... sweetheart... what's wrong?"
Behind my curtain of hair, tears sting my eyes. I cried all afternoon, all evening. Now, too?
I can't do it. I cant tell him. I can't do it.
"(y/n)... you're scaring me," Daniel says.
The shaking worsens.
"Honey," he mutters out, moving closer so he can turn me towards him.
"We lost the baby."
The words fall from my lips quickly, tears leaking down my face in the same fashion. I keep my eyes closed, unable to watch my husband's reaction.
"We lost the baby," I repeat in a whisper, a sob interlaced.
I fall into his chest just as he pulls me forward. Despair racks my body and the thoughts I've dwelled over all day come spilling out.
"I'm failing you, Daniel, I'm failing as a wife," I sob.
"No," Daniel says firmly, his voice shaking with emotion. He holds me tighter to himself. "You have not failed me, love."
And so much more could be said, but we say nothing else.
I don't know how many hours pass.
At some point, rain begins to hit the bedroom window. Slow, soft, calming taps of rhythm, almost as if the pain my husband and I are experiencing doesn't exist at all. Like the second we walk outside, it'll all disappear.
But that is a fantasy that is too good to be true. This kind of pain will never go away. This kind of loss is too devastating to forget.
