A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. I appreciate it very much! And also to
Lissanne for beta-ing. Enjoy.
XI
Even a full three weeks after that horrible evening, Emerson had yet to completely wrap her mind around all that had happened. It all seemed like a terrifying nightmare, blood and gore and unspeakable pain, interlaced with fierce and frequent stabs of grief. How she wished she could wake up. Oh God, let her wake up!
And then the realization would come that, however much she wished it were so, it hadn't been a dream. This was reality and she couldn't wake up from it; there was no escape. Everything really had occurred and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't get past it. She couldn't move on.
If before that night Em had ever thought she'd known fear, she'd been mistaken. She'd learned the error of her ways while crouching on her bathroom floor, agony such as she'd never known before tearing through her being. The closest she'd ever come to being that terrified had been during her second year at Hogwarts when that demented woman had been threatening harm to her family. That had been one of the most difficult episodes of her life and Em had hoped to never experience such crippling emotions again.
Sitting Indian-style in the middle of her bed at Harvard, books and papers spread out around her while Axel slept on top of her pillow, Emerson wiped miserably at her eyes. In a way, she hurt even more now than she had at the height of the actual agony. But this was a different ache. Whereas that had been a blinding physical pain, this was emotional. This felt like someone had stabbed her in the heart and refused to stop turning the knife, slowly, minutely, calculatingly. This felt eternal.
That certainly wasn't the way she'd been looking forward to spending her Valentine's Day weekend. It was her first one with Brandon, as a couple, and especially with the longer than usual separation that they were facing, she'd been eagerly anticipating his visit. The day after her arrival at school, she'd even begun looking into what events, if any, the establishments on and around campus were planning for the holiday, intent on making their weekend together ultra special. She'd also been excited about being back at school and had been eager to roll up her sleeves and jump head-on into her studies once more.
But something had been bothering her even then, the nagging, inescapable knowledge that she hadn't gotten her period. According to her calculations, the Estralevon Potion had been due to expire the middle of December, which meant that she should've had her menses by at least the beginning of January. But other than the faintest bit of spotting, there hadn't been anything. Emerson had always been very regular, but she told herself that it was probably because she was using birth control for the first time. It had likely just messed with her cycle, which technically was what it was supposed to do, after all.
That was what she told herself, but she must have known even then that something was wrong. Why else had she refrained from mentioning it to her mother? Mum had given her an unopened container with the second dose and asked how things were and Em had just said everything was fine and gone on to rave about the effectiveness of the contraceptive. But she hadn't mentioned the fact that her period hadn't come, and neither had she taken the new dosage. She'd told herself that she would just put it off for a while, give her body some time to get back on track. Besides, she wouldn't be seeing Brandon for a good six weeks so she could afford to not be on birth control for a while.
By the beginning of her second week back at school, however, she still hadn't menstruated. And additionally, that gripping weariness had taken ahold of her, just a drowsy bone-tiredness that found her always struggling to stay awake. She would fall asleep as soon as her head touched her pillow, sleeping deeply all through the night and waking up feeling refreshed. Yet, by early afternoon her eyelids would be drooping again and the urge to take a nap would be almost overpowering. The queasiness began around that time too, and with it had come undeniable pricklings of panic as that dreaded 'p' word kept popping up in her mind.
Recalling the night that she'd stopped hiding her head in the sand, the night with Krishna at the local Walgreen's when she'd stared at that shelf of pregnancy tests and felt faint, the tears began rolling down her cheeks again and she sniffled loudly. Which woke up Axel.
"Meow," he said anxiously, uncurling himself and padding over to bump her with his head.
In spite of herself, Em smiled and picked him up, cuddling him in her arms. "It's okay, Axel. It's okay."
The kitten stared up at her skeptically with his huge, gray eyes and she kissed his small forehead and sighed. Try as she could, she couldn't stop thinking about it. About how Krishna had asked if she was all right, that she looked "almost ashy".
"I'm fine," Em had managed. "Just really tired. It's been a grueling week, hasn't it?"
Her lab partner had snorted. "Tell me about it. But come on, I've got everything. Let's get you home so you can get some sleep, eh?"
But when Krishna left, sleep had been the last thing on Emerson's mind. After casting a Silencing charm so as not to alert Kady to what was going on, she'd burst into tears in the middle of her room, Axel mewing in sympathy at her feet.
"Oh my God, oh my God," she'd kept saying, over and over again, as if that would make it better, as if that would make it untrue. But how could it not be true? The symptoms were all there, everything. How could she not be pregnant?
You don't know that for sure! said a hysterical voice in her head. Have you taken any kind of test? It could be anything!
Emerson had frozen on the spot and reached up to wipe her eyes. A test, that's what she needed to do. But what was the charm to test for pregnancy? The nurse at Hogwarts had taught it to them, along with the contraceptive one, but it had slipped from memory out of obvious disuse. Maybe Kady-
"No!" she'd said aloud, interrupting her own frantic thoughts. "I can't ask her. I can't ask anyone! Nobody can know. Nobody must know. Not yet." She started to cry again before forcing herself to stop. She'd hurriedly rifled through her purse for some money, checked to see that she looked presentable and Apparated into the alley behind the drugstore.
The male cashier at the check-out counter had raised his eyebrows when she dumped the assortment of pregnancy tests in front of him. "You having a party or something?"
She glared at him and he'd shrugged and quickly rang up her purchases. Not bothering to wait for her change, she'd hurried back to the alley and Disapparated. In her bathroom, she'd made herself sit down on the covered toilet and carefully read the instructions twice before she took the first test. The three-minute wait for the results was the longest three minutes of her life and she felt like her heart had stopped when she saw the two lines. They were deep and unmistakable but, as the tears gushed from her eyes again, she'd taken another test, and another, and another. And when they were all arranged in a neat little row on the sink, only then did the shrill voice of denial in her head start to shut up. One could be a mistake, two a coincidence. But not three, and certainly not four.
There was no more rationalizing, no more excuses, no more alternatives. Not once had the chance of this occurrence ever crossed her mind. Things like this didn't happen to her. She was a mature, responsible young woman. She had a plan, dreams, goals. And this was not part of it. How could this have happened?
She'd cried for a long time that night, dreading what was to come. She would have to tell Brandon, of course. But how could she write something like that in a letter? What would she say anyway:
Dear Brandon, How're you? How's the jet-setting going? I'm all right. Well, except for the fact that I'm pregnant. Hope everything is going great! Love, Em.
No. Even in her head it had sounded stupid and how could she dump something like that on him by owl? Something this monumental, this life-changing, deserved to be told in person. And clearly, he was the first person who needed to know, which meant that until then, she would have to keep it to herself. Not that she had any intention of telling anyone, other than Lyna and not until she'd told Brandon. The thought of her parents finding out, especially, made her cringe in mortification still.
"Oh God," Em whispered into Axel's fluffy fur, her heart seizing as she imagined what her parents would've said. How her father would've looked at her!
Emerson had no doubt that they would've been supportive in the long run, but she knew they would also have been sorely disappointed in her first. Wasn't it only weeks ago that she'd been convincing her father of her maturity, of the fact that she was an adult and could handle this relationship? And now this had happened. How very mature, how very responsible of her.
And the fact that there was no longer a baby didn't comfort her in the slightest because there still existed the way she had responded to its demise. If her parents knew, if her father knew-
There was a knock on her door, and Emerson started and quickly wiped her eyes and nose. Jumping up, she took a deep breath and tried not to look as miserable as she really felt. Kady knew nothing about all that had happened and Em didn't want that to change any time soon.
But when she pulled open the door, it wasn't her roommate standing there smiling at her.
"Brandon?" she blurted, her eyes wide. "What're you doing here?"
Her boyfriend looked puzzled. "Didn't you get my owl?"
"Your owl?" she parroted blankly. Then her brow cleared as she remembered. "Oh, yeah! I did get it. Sorry. Come in."
He stepped inside and she closed the door behind him and squeezed her eyes shut. Oh God, he was the last person she wanted to see right now! She had gotten his owl, but for the first time since they'd begun their relationship, she hadn't opened the letter. She'd stuffed it under her pillow and forgotten about it.
"Hey, you," he said and she took a deep breath and turned around.
But he wasn't talking to her. He was scratching under the chin of a delighted Axel, who was purring happily, and with his attention safely diverted, she stared at him. He was gorgeous, the way his thick brown hair hung shaggily about his face. The way the dimple in his left cheek winked whenever he smiled or grinned, which seemed to be almost all the time. The way his brown eyes crinkled at the corners when he laughed.
Emerson found herself blinking back tears as she watched him. She loved him. She loved him so much, but it hurt to be around him now. Being around him reminded her of her pain and her grief. Her guilt. He was her partner in crime, he was the one who'd made that baby with her, the baby she hadn't wanted, the baby whose death she'd-
Brandon looked up at her and smiled and she looked away, swallowing hard in an effort to compose herself. He'd been here every single weekend since the miscarriage, ignoring her protests that she was fine, that he shouldn't jeopardize his standing at work just to be with her.
"I don't care about work, Em," he'd said. "You're more important to me than anything else."
"But your career!" she'd protested. "You're really only just starting in the business, Brandon. You shouldn't be taking it lightly."
He'd touched her cheek, his eyes tender. "You are my business, can't you see?"
She hadn't known how to respond to that.
"How're you?" he asked now, standing in front of her. She avoided his eyes but she could smell his aftershave and the scent made her heart pound.
For some reason, his question irritated her. Like, how the hell did he think she was? He reached out to touch her cheek and Em found herself trying very hard not to flinch.
"I'm fine," she said, looking up and forcing a smile. "How're you?"
He shrugged. "Okay. I couldn't wait to get here."
"Oh?" she said noncommittally, moving away from him. She went over to her bed and began to gather the papers and books that were spread out on it. "How's work?"
"Still busy. But it should be winding down before too long. We've been working around the clock to do all the renewals in a timely manner, and only a handful of countries left to deal with." He sighed. "Which is how comes I'm able to be here every weekend. Not that I'd have let it s-stop m-me."
She glanced up just in time to see him yawning hugely. Frowning, she walked over and really looked at him. Up close, she realized that his eyes were red and there were dark circles underneath them. "You must be so tired!"
"A little," he said, shrugging.
Emerson felt a pang of guilt. Here he was, having endured the rigors of international Portkey travel after a long, arduous week at work, to be with her and she was too focused on being aloof. Turning back to her bed, she grabbed her wand and waved it to gather the books and papers, then fluffed up her pillow and drew the covers back.
"Lie down."
Brandon's eyes twinkled. "Yes, ma'am." He kicked off his shoes and obeyed and she drew the covers over him, feeling herself blushing at the proximity of their faces. She began to straighten up but he grabbed her wrist. "Stay with me."
His eyes held hers and she blushed harder, finding herself unable to look away. "Okay."
He scooted over so she could lie down beside him then drew her close, one arm draped over her waist. Em tried not to stiffen, but at the same time, she didn't want to encourage him. Nurse Dawson and the Healers at St. Agatha's had said they should wait two weeks before being intimate and although it was now three weeks after the miscarriage, Emerson couldn't bear the thought of sex. She didn't delude herself into thinking that her body didn't want him; when it came to Brandon, her body always wanted him. But she knew that in every other way, she wasn't ready to return to that level yet. Frankly, she couldn't see how she ever would return to that level.
Shifting slightly, she moved her head back so she could see his face and was surprised to discover that he was already fast asleep. He must've been much more tired than he'd let on. And yet, he was here; he had come to her. Even though her company was much less than stellar these days, he'd still wanted to be with her. Feeling her eyes prickling, she reached out and slowly traced the contours of his mouth and jawline. Would he still feel the same way if he knew how she had felt about what would have been his child?
Don't think about it. Don't think about it.
Tears squeezed out her tightly shut eyes and she gritted her teeth against the sobs that threatened to escape her throat. After a moment of taking deep, shaky breaths, she managed to regain control and allowed herself to sink deeper into the mattress. Feeling suddenly weary, Emerson heaved a great sigh and closed her eyes.
She must have fallen asleep because when she opened her eyes, the lamp on her desk was glowing brighter against the darkness that had fallen outside, casting long shadows all around the room. Em rolled over and found herself looking into Brandon's brown eyes. He smiled and brushed her hair from her face, and perhaps her defenses were down from having just woken up because she smiled back, which made his eyes light up from within.
"I love you," he whispered.
She tried but she couldn't get the words out, couldn't give voice to how much she loved him, too. He must have read it in her eyes, though because he leaned over and kissed her. And it was like she'd been plunged into water that was both hot and cold at the same time. What felt like every single hair on her body stood up, her scalp prickled, her eyes drifted shut as his lips moved on hers, as his tongue touched her lips and she opened her mouth and granted him entrance. Emerson moaned involuntarily at that first taste of him, her first taste of him in more than two months, because hadn't the day of her return to school after Christmas hols been the last time they'd really kissed? His lips wandered to her neck and she gasped at the jolts of sensation that shot through her being, her hands moving to tangle in his hair just before he captured her mouth again. She kissed him back hungrily, his legs rubbing sensually against hers under the covers and her body screamed for him.
Yet, at the same time, something else was screaming. Something in her head was yelling at her and the more urgently his mouth moved against hers, the louder that voice became until it was all she heard. Brandon cupped her breasts and even as her nipples instantly hardened at the contact, her entire body went rigid and she jerked away from him. She sat up abruptly, flinging the covers away from her and scrambled out of the bed, her breathing ragged, the blood pounding in her ears.
"Oh God, Em, I'm sorry," Brandon was saying, sounding horrified. "I'm so sorry."
"It's not you," she managed in a tight whisper. "It's not you."
It was her. She was the one who had no right to be doing anything like that. Was she so weak that she couldn't abstain even for a little while? Was she so selfish?
Emerson covered her eyes, pressing them with the heels of her palms while she gulped mouthfuls of air. Walking over to her desk, she drew herself up onto it and leaned her head shakily back against the wall. Really, what did she expect, lying in bed with him? If she couldn't be strong enough to not encourage him, the least she could do was not place herself anywhere that might give him ideas.
In here? scoffed a voice in her head. Whatever. He's fucked you on every single piece of furniture in this room and you know it.
Take the desk she was sitting on, for instance. It'd been the weekend of his first visit, the day she'd worn that long, lightweight skirt that he'd liked so much; the one he said made her look like a "demure little miss". He'd slowly and methodically undressed her of everything but the skirt, perched her on the edge of the desk, pushed the skirt up and proceeded to work his magic on her with his mouth. Then, before she'd had a chance to come down from the high, he'd taken her with abandon and Emerson remembered having what felt like one long, continuous orgasm, or else a hundred little ones in rapid succession. Before reaching completion, he'd pulled out and helped her off the desk and she'd gotten to her knees before him, the long skirt pooling around her legs. She'd taken him in, working her magic until he'd cried out her name with passion and filled her mouth to overflowing, his hands tangled in her hair.
It had been one of the most erotic incidents of her life and seated now on that same desk, Emerson's body burned at the memory. She pressed her legs together and squeezed her eyes shut against the tears of desire, shame and guilt that welled up, her hands balled tightly into fists on her lap. How dare she. How dare she want sex when she was neither responsible enough to consider and prevent the consequences, nor mature enough to appropriately handle the results of said irresponsibility? How dare she.
The sobs welled up in her throat and she stopped trying to fight them, burying her face in her hands as she cried. She stiffened at his touch and through her own maelstrom of emotions, his quiet voice filled her with simmering rage.
"Are you okay?" he asked, crouching in front of her. "What is it, Em?"
She pulled away irritably. "Nothing."
"It doesn't look like nothing to me. Do you want to talk about it?"
"No, I don't want to talk about it! All right?" she snapped, glaring at him. She watched his jaw clench as he looked away and took a few deep breaths, clearly searching for patience. When he looked back, his voice was so calm that she flushed with sudden mortification.
"Okay." He stood up and headed to the door, where he paused and looked back at her. "I'm gonna go into the living room for a bit, since you seem to need to be alone."
The door closed behind him and she broke down, drawing her legs up onto the desk to rest her forehead against her knees. She didn't know how long she cried but after a while she calmed down, though she didn't get down from the desk. She didn't think she wanted to move ever again, because moving would surely disturb the prickly ball of guilt and grief inside her that was, for the moment, stationary.
Of course she couldn't stay like that forever, and eventually she had to get down to use the bathroom. When she reentered her room, Brandon was sitting on the bed and there was a tray on her desk.
"What's that?" she asked, gesturing at the tray.
"I made you some soup," he answered. "There's a grilled cheese sandwich too, and some pumpkin juice."
Emerson wanted to cry again. "You made that f-for m-me? Why?"
"Figured you might be hungry," he said simply, as if that explained everything. "Go on."
Although she was famished, she ate slowly, because there was a lump in her throat that made swallowing rather difficult. She couldn't keep her eyes off him, staring as he played with Axel but always looking away quickly when he glanced up. She wanted to tell him so badly but she couldn't bear the thought of him looking at her in a different way.
And she was certain that he would if he knew; if he knew that, in that split second between when she'd seen the blood and when she'd fainted, the emotion that had shot through her being had been relief.
That was the primary reason why she was so torn up, not because Fate had rudely snatched the baby away. Although that definitely hurt, because she'd almost begun to resign herself to the fact. But not really, not completely. And when she'd seen that blood and realized what it meant, that she'd been let off the hook; that she wouldn't have to endure being the cause of such grave disappointment to her parents and loved ones; that she wouldn't have to give up or alter the future that she'd planned for herself, she had been relieved. Synonyms: pleased, contented, satisfied, at rest. How could she have been at rest over the death of what would have been her child? How could she have been pleased?
And at the hospital when he'd said, "Well, the good thing is you don't have to do that anymore", she'd lashed out at him. Because he'd given voice to what she herself had already thought, and what a horrible thought it was! What a selfish thought! She almost couldn't bear to be in her own skin. Oh God, how she wished she could be someone else, someone less callous and self-serving.
There was no getting away from herself, however. So the least she could do was get him away from her, spare him having to associate with someone as cold as she clearly was.
The least she could do was push him away.
But he turned out to be just as stubborn as she was, if not more. As the weeks went by, still he came down every weekend like clockwork, in spite of all her efforts, and the happiness and sorrow warred for dominance within her. Inwardly, she was happy to see him because when he was there, it seemed to be the only time she could truly rest. In contrast with before when she could sleep deeply and dreamlessly for extended periods, now she had trouble staying asleep for more than two hours at a time. She spent the sleepless nights poring over her coursework, making so much feverish headway in her degree program that her professors began to express alarm that she was overworking herself.
But when Brandon was there, for some reason she was able to sleep much more peacefully than when he wasn't. And her own weakness, her own need of him even as she knew she didn't deserve him, increased her guilt all the more.
It wasn't long before her misery became apparent to those around her. Matt Adler, Krishna Richards and Kady had all taken to asking if she was all right, saying that she looked pale and tired all the time. Her roommate kept asking what was going on with her and Brandon, because of course she couldn't help but notice that he was coming down every weekend. Neither could she fail to notice that Em and Brandon weren't acting around each other anything like they used to.
Emerson had been having an even worse day than usual and she snapped. "Here's a suggestion, Kady: why don't you mind your own fucking business? You don't see me prying into what's going on between you and my brother, do you? Well, how about doing me the same favor and staying the hell out of my affairs?"
Kady recoiled as if Em had slapped her and ran to her room in tears. Whereupon Emerson started to cry, too, and although she apologized profusely through her roommate's locked door, Kady didn't come out or otherwise acknowledge her.
"Which is no less than I deserve," Em muttered miserably to herself. With a sigh, she flung herself onto her bed and pulled out the letter that had made the day worse than usual.
Under any other circumstance, the contents of that letter would've been cause for hysterical rejoicing on Em's part. The letter was from Carolyna Lupin Chapman, excitedly informing Em that she and Davis were expecting their first child. Lyna had told Em over Thanksgiving that she and Davis were trying. But it must have completely slipped Emerson's mind because she'd been so intent on sharing her own sorry story with her best friend.
Em sighed again. "Now there's no chance in hell of me doing that. Not for a while. Because how can I tell Lyna something like this? It'd scare the daylights out of her and she doesn't need that. Being pregnant is scary enough by itself."
To make matters worse it was Friday, which meant that Brandon would be arriving any minute. And God knew she had neither the energy nor the patience to deal with him just now. She'd already forced herself to muster up all the cheerfulness that she could find to respond via owl to her best friend's good news, and surely there was none left over for her long-suffering boyfriend.
But she couldn't deny the pounding of her heart when she saw him. She couldn't deny how good his arms felt around her, although she forced herself to pull away from his embrace very quickly. The weekend dragged by and for the first time Emerson realized what a yawning divide had erupted between them. She knew it was mostly her fault. Brandon's coming down every weekend could only be interpreted as him trying to bridge the gulf, while she kept rebuffing him. How much more would he take? How long before he threw his hands up in disgust and left her to her misery?
The thought filled her with a paralyzing dread that had her hunching over at her desk. How could she be without him? She loved him so much! She needed him. Her life had never been so full, so rich as it had been since she'd known his love. How could she survive without it?
"Emerson? What's wrong?" he asked, sounding worried, and only then did she realize that she was crying.
She sucked in a breath, wiping angrily at her eyes and sat up straighter. It's for the best. It's for the best. "Nothing."
"Will you stop saying that?" he said irritably. "You know and I know that this is about something. This is about-"
"Don't say it!" she hissed through clenched teeth, glaring up at him.
He glared back. "Why not? I hate what this is doing to us, Em! Why can't we just talk about it? It's been eight fucking weeks! I hate how-"
"Well, if you hate it so much, why don't you just leave? No one is making you stay!"
He looked for a moment like he wanted nothing better than to shake her but when he spoke, his voice was quiet, almost devoid of emotion. "The way you're acting right now that would be the easy thing for me to do. But I won't. I'm not capable of doing that and even if I was, I wouldn't. We got into this mess together and I refuse to abandon you to deal with it by yourself. So you can try to push me away all you want, it won't work. I'm not going anywhere."
It would have been better if he had shouted. His calmness was killing her; her heart was breaking with guilt. He didn't deserve this. But why couldn't he see that this was for his own good? Did he want to make her say it? Did he want to know that she was actually so much less than he thought she was?
But he was still speaking. "I'm not claiming to know what you're feeling. But I want to know. I want to understand, Emerson. Why won't you talk to me? This would have been my child too, you know."
"Yeah, well, you didn't even know there was a potential child until it was already gone."
The words slipped out before she could stop them and immediately after they'd been uttered, she wished she could take them back. Brandon made a frustrated noise low in his throat and looking up, she saw that he was much more than frustrated. He was angry.
"And that's my fault, is it?"
"No, I-"
"Look, Emerson," he interrupted sharply. "Stop acting like you have a monopoly on pain. Because you don't! Now I'm going for a walk to calm myself down because I honestly can't stand you right now."
He grabbed his cloak and stalked away. The door of her room banged shut behind him and a few moments later, so did the front door. Emerson buried her face miserably into her arms, deep sobs wracking her body. She wanted to be angry with him for his words, but how could she be when she understood exactly how he felt? Because right this moment, she couldn't stand herself either.
Jumping up from the desk, she climbed under her bed covers and sobbed into her pillow, the self-disgust swirling all around her. After a while, she made herself stop and lay sniffling as she waited for him to come back. She wanted to apologize, to tell him how much she loved him.
She wanted to confess.
But he didn't come back and eventually, the weariness overtook her and she fell asleep. When she woke up, he was sitting at her desk, watching her. Em rubbed her eyes and stared back, taking in his familiar features that she so adored. Would their child have looked like him?
Brandon stood up and she noticed he was still wearing his cloak. "I have to go," he said quietly.
A wave of sadness and regret washed over her as she realized that yes, he did have to go. One more precious weekend that could've been used for healing and reconciliation had been wasted. And now he had to go home - back to his job, his friends and family, who were no doubt getting curious about his weekly trips out here. He was leaving and if things continued this way, if she continued to push him away... how long would it be before he stopped trying? How long before she lost him too?
But she couldn't speak, not through the enormous mass in her throat. So she just nodded. She watched him walk over to the door and for one horrible second thought he was going to leave without even saying goodbye.
But he turned back and looked at her, his dark eyes heavy with emotion. "I love you, you know."
Tears rolled down her cheeks as she nodded again. She did know. And she loved him too, so much that her heart ached. But she couldn't say it, try as she did and finally, he turned away and opened the door.
"Brandon-"
He looked back at her, his face firmly composed. "Get some rest, Emerson. I'll see you next week."
And he was gone, leaving her broken and weeping in the middle of her bed.
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TBC
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