Page 132 of Old Habits
“Because you broke up with me.”
“Jove…” I flex my jaw, “I think something like that transcends a breakup.”
“I was going to tell you,” she says, talking slowly, “but then you spoke first.”
“I spoke first? That’s your excuse?”
She wipes another tear away and looks up. “I was caught off-guard by what you said to me and how you suddenly didn’t want to get married anymore and I just…” She catches her breath. “I couldn’t say anything. I couldn’t feel anything. So, I went home, cried for hours, figured I’d talk to you once everything calmed down but then it happened.”
My chest aches. “That night?”
“Yes.”
I step off the door frame. “You were alone?”
“Yes.”
“Did… did it hurt?”
She hesitates as her lip trembles. “Yes.”
“You should have told me, Jovie.” My voice rises on its own. “You didn’t have to go through that alone.”
“Well, I couldn’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because it hurt!” She rises off the bed. “It really hurt! Between losing our baby and my dad kicking me out againand Sara threatening me—”
“Wait — Sara did what?”
“I packed a bag and I left. I couldn’t face you again because I knew you wanted to be a father so badly but I couldn’t give that to you and that’s what hurt the most…”
Her voice fades off and my heart breaks.
Losing our baby.Like she just misplaced my keys. I start to think that if we retrace her steps, we’ll find it again. Sooner or later.
But that’s not how that works at all.
Jovie presses her lips together, her chest heaving with each quivering breath. Tears coat her cheeks, endlessly dripping down her throat but I stand still, numb all the way to the bone.
After all this time, I finally know why Jovie Ross took off. I almost wish I didn’t. If I hadn’t have pushed her away that day, would it have happened at all? Pangs of guilt jab my chest. My lungs feel full of rocks. Is this how she’s felt for four years?
I step forward and wrap my arms around her. “It wasn’t your fault, Jovie.”
She sobs. “Yes, it was—”
“No, it wasn’t.” I kiss her forehead while she shakes in my arms. “You couldn’t have stopped it. It’s okay.”
“Will, I’m so sorry—”
“It’s okay.”
Jovie grips my suit jacket and buries her face in my chest. I feel her warm, wet tears bleeding through my shirt. She sways on trembling knees and I hold her tighter to keep her standing.
“Hank came home and heard me crying in the bathroom,” she says, her voice weak. “I thought that maybe I should tell him and he would… I don’t know, show some fucking compassion for once.” She steps back to breathe. “So, I told him what was happening and he just started screaming at me and hitting the walls. I got so scared. I ran to my room, stuffed my backpack with anything I couldn’t live without, and I got in my car. I never told anyone else about it.” She lays a hand on her stomach. “God, I’m gonna be sick.”
I lead her to the bed. “Sit down.”