Insomnia

Gentle // Twenty-Nine

"Cade?" She whispered.

His eyes were glazed over, lost, vacant. He got that look when he was reminded of his childhood. She tried to pull down on the sheet, see what he saw, but he wouldn't let her, came back to reality.

He swallowed thickly. Any question he could ask would immediately alert her to the situation at hand. Have you had a period? Do you know for sure you can't get pregnant? Could your throwing up over the last month been something else besides stress?

What do you do? Is this a rip-the-band-aid-off sort of thing? She would find out soon - within at least the next five minutes. Does he tell her? Or let her come to her own conclusion?

"Just tell me what's wrong." She was still clutching her stomach, in pain.

Jesus, is this my fault? Was the sex too rough?

"You're bleeding." He finally said, voice hoarse, broken.

Her immediate thought was, well, thank god. It's been over two months. Then she mulled it over a little more. Then a little more. Her final thought was that she wanted to cry.

She did. "Cade," tears slipped down her cheeks, her voice was rough, "I was pregnant, wasn't I?"

Cade hadn't cried in twenty years. Right here, right now, he did. "I'm so sorry, Evie."

She burst into hard sobs, the kind that wracked your whole body, made you wail in agony. He clutched her to his chest for over half an hour until she didn't have any energy left, any tears.

Cade heard a knock at the door and carefully disentangled himself from her, grabbing his boxers off the floor and quickly pulling them on. He opened the door but only to slip through it.

"Mr. Harmon, I... I have dinner ready." Garrett said carefully. "Are you and the missus okay?"

Cade sighed. "We'll be okay. Just keep it warm for us, please. I'll be down soon and I'll carry it back upstairs. I don't think Evangeline will want to go down." He didn't know how to say the next few words, but did anyway. "She's had a miscarriage, it seems. We'll probably use another room tonight. The sheets need to be washed."

"Do you want me to call Ms. Harmon?" Garrett suggested.

His mother. He hadn't seen her in, what, three years? Calls, texts, sure, but hugged the woman? She'd visited him in prison, of course, but it wasn't the same and he hated her seeing him like that; just a number printed across his breast pocket, a last name. The worst part is that this fucking city was gang-ridden, and he had his sides. Size and training meant shit when you were faced by seven Latinos each with tatted teardrops. Cade took a deep breath. "Yeah, actually. That... That sounds good. I think Eve will enjoy meeting my mother. Reagan's still at Oxford, right?"

Garrett nodded. "As you asked, I've kept tabs. Happy, healthy."

Cade nodded, and went to step back into the room.

"I hope I'm not overstepping, but they ask about you a lot. I'm... Pleased you want to let them back in your life."

He didn't respond, and slipped back into the room.

Evie had vanished from the bed, but he heard the shower running. He joined her on the tile floor, holding her. Humming. Pink water swirled the drain.

"I never thought about having a baby." She sniveled. "And goddamnit, now I really, really want one." Evie started crying all over again.

Cade thought about his own childhood. "There's always adoption." He offered. This was not the correct response, as she started to break down again.