Away We Go • 2 • Formula One

Chapter 37

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"Max, please!" I begged, sobs tumbling from my lips as I looked up at my boyfriend.

His face was unnatural, twisted into a snarl. He looked down at me with such disgust that I felt intimidated by him. I could only focus on his face, no matter how hard I tried to look away. It was like a force was pulling me to him with no escape. "You killed our baby, Alyssa. This is all your fault."

My breathing was erratic and I struggled to catch my breath. Was breathing always this hard? His words hurt more than I could've anticipated. "I didn't mean to."

"I'll never forgive you," he spat. "I'll be so much happier with you out of my life."

It was a painful reality. I wanted to be with him so much, but it was too painful. Helplessly, I watched as the walls started to close in on us, however I was the only one who noticed. I pushed my hands out to stop them closing; I didn't want them to crush Max. The paint on the walls crumbled underneath my fingers, which had a negative affect on my grip. It hurt my arms and caused a tight pain in my chest. When Max turned around and started to walk away from me, the pain only increased.

I felt a horrible sensation in my stomach. I took my eyes off Max for a moment to look down. My white Mercedes suit was stained a crimson colour that started to spread. I felt so sick. When I eventually looked up, ready to shout for Max's help, he was standing in front of me, but not alone. The walls suddenly vanished and my heart sank. With her hand tightly held in my boyfriend's, someone extremely familiar was grinning back at me.

"Dilara?" I asked in confusion. It didn't look like her exactly; something was definitely off.

"I always knew I was better for him," she said in a sickly sweet voice. I knew it didn't sound like her because the voice was British, but I didn't question it. "I can give him everything he ever wanted and more. You?" She laughed. "You're pathetic; undeserving of my dear Max's love."

I wanted to reply, tell her that he loved me but I couldn't. I knew what she was saying was true. Once again, I found myself surrounded by walls. The room had twisted itself into a corridor with Max and Dilara standing safely at they end. They watched in amusement as I panicked and struggled to hold the walls apart. My muscles were burning and trembling. Tears were streaming down my cheeks and I couldn't help but sob uncontrollably. I knew I wouldn't be able to hold on for much longer, but the walls suddenly slammed shut before I could process.

With a jolt, I woke up. My clothes clung to my body because of the sweat and my heart was thumping so loudly it echoed in my ears. It took a few moments of panting to get my breath back and realise where I was. Just another bad dream.

There was an indescribable feeling hanging over me from the moment I left the hospital in Montreal. It felt like my skin was permanently coated with a layer of unease, showing up as small goosebumps on my arms and legs. Once the pain meds had worn off, I felt a hundred times worse. There was a constant ache from where they had to perform the emergency surgery, the small cut a couple of inches from my bellybutton tender to touch. In a way, I felt like I had experienced the loss of a loved one. It was stupid, in my head, because I hadn't even realised that I was pregnant until it was lost. The pregnancy wouldn't have survived because it was ectopic, and then the news that I'd have more chance of winning the lottery than conceiving was a tough blow.

It pained me in a way I never could've expected when the specialist I saw when back in the UK confirmed my worst fears. These fears had never crossed my mind before Sunday, but now they plagued my waking thoughts. I was so grateful for Susie who insisted on attending the appointments with me. Some of the examinations were uncomfortable and invasive so I was glad to have her.