Goodbye to the Love That Once Fell to Pieces

Yvette Fox was carrying Simon James's child.

She used to be the one who pinned me down in the women's restroom and filmed it. Now she sat on my wedding bed with her belly out, calling me Andrea Henson, sweetie over and over.

I ran into the kitchen, grabbed a knife, and went for Simon. He backhanded me across the face and called me a lunatic.

I hit the floor, half my face swelling, blood dripping off my chin.

I fled back to my parents' house. My mother blocked the doorway. "What are you coming back here for? Have you no shame?"

My father sighed from inside. "You completely lost control of yourself."

Nobody asked me whether it hurt.

And nobody knew about the pregnancy test in my bag. I'd been hiding it for three days.

Simon knew even less than that. The child in Yvette's belly might not even be his.

......

"Andrea, sweetie, don't be angry."

Yvette sat on the bed Simon and I shared, wearing my silk nightgown, her slightly rounded belly pushed forward, timid as could be.

"Simon and I truly love each other."

Her eyes were rimmed red, one hand stroking her belly, every word a needle dipped in poison.

I looked at her, then at Simon standing beside her, impatience all over his face.

Everything in my stomach heaved.

Morning sickness.

And disgust.

I bolted into the bathroom and threw up until the world spun.

For three days I'd been waiting for the right moment to show Simon that test.

To tell him we were going to have a baby.

Now it just looked like a colossal joke.

I wiped the sour water from the corner of my mouth and walked back out.

Simon stood in the doorway, his brows drawn tight.

"Andrea, are you done making a scene?"

"The baby in her belly isn't well, and you insist on upsetting her right now?"

Right on cue, Yvette let out a cry of pain.

"Simon, my stomach hurts so much..."

He rushed straight back to the bed and steadied her, tense.

"Yvette, what's wrong? Do you need to go to the hospital?"

Soft, gentle. A tenderness I had never once seen from him.

The blood in me went cold all over.

Yvette used to corner me in the women's restroom with a group of people.

They'd torn at my clothes and filmed it on their phones.

And Simon had stood in the doorway, watching it all with cold eyes.

Now this woman was carrying his child, lying in my bed.

And my husband was demanding to know why I couldn't behave.

Something sweet and metallic rose in my throat.

I said nothing. I turned and ran into the kitchen.

When I came back out, there was a fruit knife in my hand.

Simon's face changed in an instant.

"Andrea! What are you doing! Put the knife down!"

Yvette shrieked in terror and shrank into Simon's chest.

"Simon, I'm so scared, she wants to kill me, kill our baby!"

Baby.

That word set me off completely.

I raised the knife and lunged at Simon, past caring about anything.

"Simon, I'll kill you!"

The blade never touched him.

Slap.

A sharp, ringing blow to my face.

My whole head snapped to the side, and I crashed onto the cold floor.

My ears were ringing.

Half my face went numb fast, then burned raw.

Simon stood over me, his eyes full of loathing.

"You're nothing but a goddamn lunatic!"

Blood slid from the corner of my mouth, dripped onto the floor, and spread into a small red bloom.

I looked at that red, and suddenly I was laughing.

Right. I was a lunatic.

I'd gone mad the day I fell in love with you, back in school.

I braced myself against the floor and stood up, unsteady.

Simon instinctively stepped back, shielding Yvette more completely behind him.

He was guarding himself against me.

I looked at him and said it, one word at a time.

"Simon, we're getting divorced."

He froze.

Yvette froze too.

They'd probably both assumed I'd keep raging, keep throwing a fit.

Simon frowned. "Don't use divorce to threaten me."

"I'm not threatening you."

Calmly, I walked into the bedroom, ignored the disgusting pair on the bed, and dragged my suitcase out of the closet.

I packed my clothes into it, piece by piece.

Not fast, but without a single pause.

Simon just stood there, watching me.

Only when I zipped the suitcase shut did he speak.

"Andrea, you really have to do this?"

I ignored him and hauled the suitcase toward the door.

As I passed him, he grabbed my wrist.

"Where are you going?"

"Let go."

"It's the middle of the night. Where's a woman like you going to go?"

There was a faint, irritated charity in his tone.

I shook his hand off.

"Wherever I go, it's none of your business."

I opened the door and walked out without looking back.

The moment the elevator doors closed, I heard Yvette's delicate voice.

"Simon, Andrea really left... it's all my fault..."

Simon's voice was cold.

"Don't worry about her. Crazy woman. Let her cool off, that's all."

I leaned against the cold wall of the elevator, shaking all over.

Dragging my suitcase, I went to my parents' house.

It was the closest place, and the only one I could think of.

I rang the doorbell.

My mother answered.

The moment she saw me, and the suitcase in my hand, her face went dark.

"What are you coming back here for?"

My lips moved, but before I could get a word out,

she saw the swollen half of my face.

Her expression turned even uglier.

"Did you and Simon get in a fight?"

"Dragging a suitcase home in the middle of the night. Have you no shame!"

She blocked me in the doorway, with no intention of letting me in.

My father sighed inside and came out.

"Let her in first."

Only then did my mother grudgingly step aside.

My father looked at my face, his brows knitting.

"Andrea, how could you be so rash?"

"Whatever it is between a husband and wife, you can talk it out. You completely lost your composure."

I stood in the living room like a criminal on trial.

One of them accused me of shaming them, the other criticized me for losing control.

Not one of them asked whether it hurt.

Not one of them asked what had happened.

The test in my bag felt like a branding iron pulled from the fire, scorching an ache into my chest.

Suddenly it all struck me as absurd.

I turned and dragged my suitcase back toward the door.

My mother panicked.

"Where are you going now!"

"I'm leaving."

"If you leave, where do we put our faces! What are we supposed to tell his family!"

My father spoke too. "Andrea, don't be willful."

I stopped and looked back at them.

"From today on, I don't have a home."

With that, I opened the door and walked out, resolute.

Behind me came my mother's furious cursing.

I couldn't hear any of it anymore.

Late at night, the cold wind stung my cheeks.

I dragged my suitcase along, walking with no destination.

A faint, dragging pain pulled low in my belly.

Without thinking, I cradled my stomach and crouched down at the side of the road.

Cold sweat soaked through the back of my shirt in an instant.

Nothing could happen to me.

Nothing could happen to my baby.

I pulled out my phone, hands shaking, trying to call 911.

A black car stopped in front of me.

The window came down, showing a gentle, clean-featured face.

"Miss Henson?"

It was Terry Gilbert.

The doctor who had handled my prenatal care.

I looked up at him, and without any warning the tears spilled over.

He seemed startled, and got out of the car at once.

"What's wrong? Where does it hurt?"

He saw the bruise on my face, the blood at the corner of my mouth.

His brows drew together.

"Did your husband do this?"

I said nothing, only shook my head, and the tears came harder.

The pain low in my belly grew sharper.

I gripped his sleeve and forced out the words with everything I had.

"Doctor save my baby"

The moment I said it, my vision went dark and I lost consciousness completely.

When I woke again, I was in a hospital.

The smell of antiseptic filled my nose.

Terry was sitting by the bed. When he saw me wake, he handed me a cup of warm water.

"You're awake."

"How do you feel?"

I asked, my voice hoarse. "My baby"

"The baby's fine. You just got too worked up, and there were some signs of a threatened miscarriage."

Terry's voice was very gentle.

"You need to rest properly."

I let out a breath, and the tears welled up again.

"Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me."

He looked at the bruise on my face, silent for a moment before he spoke.

"Your husband has he always been like this?"

I shook my head.

"We're divorced."

Terry didn't press any further. He only raised the head of the bed a little.

"Just rest for now. Ring the bell if you need anything."

He stood to leave, and I called him back.

"Dr. Gilbert."

"Yes?"

"What happened today, could you not tell my family?"

He nodded.

"That's your private matter."

The room was empty again, just me.

I laid my hand on my flat stomach. There was a little life in here.

The only family I had left.

I stayed in the hospital for three days.

Not one call from Simon, not one message.

Nothing from my parents either.

As if I had vanished completely from their world.

Fine by me.

The day I was discharged, Terry handled the paperwork for me.

Watching me drag my suitcase with nowhere to go, he asked me.

"What are you planning to do next?"

"I'll find a hotel first, then look for a job and rent a place."

He thought it over for a moment.

"A friend of mine has a small apartment sitting empty. It's close to the hospital, and quiet. Good for you while you're carrying the baby."

"You can pay the rent once you've found work."

I looked at him.

"Dr. Gilbert, I can't"

"Just think of it as a doctor looking out for his patient a little extra."

He smiled, and it was warm.

"What you need right now is a stable place to be."

I couldn't refuse.

It was a small one-bedroom, clean and neat, with plenty of sunlight.

Terry handed me the keys.

"Call me anytime if anything comes up."

Standing in the empty room, for the first time I felt something settle in me.

This was my new beginning.

A new beginning for me and my baby.

I changed my number and cut off contact with everyone from my past.

I started sending out my resume online.

Because I was pregnant, a lot of jobs shut the door on me.

In the end, a small design firm took me.

The boss was a straightforward woman. She said she'd been looked down on when she was pregnant too, so she was willing to give me a chance.

I threw myself into the work.

Drafting at the office during the day, taking on freelance jobs after I got home at night.

I wanted to save up as fast as I could and pay Terry back the rent.

Terry came by to check on me now and then.

He'd bring supplements for pregnant women, or some fresh fruit.

He never stayed long, and he never asked about my past.

There was an understood distance between us.

It made me comfortable.

The days passed one after another, and my belly slowly began to show.

The morning sickness got worse and worse.

That day I was working late at the office when a wave of nausea hit.

I rushed to the bathroom and threw up until the world spun.

My coworker Thaddeus Chavez handed me a cup of water.

"Andrea, are you okay? You look terrible."

"I'm fine. Just a little sick."

I gave a small smile.

Back at my desk, my phone lit up.

A text from an unknown number.

"Andrea Henson, where are you?"

It was Simon.

He'd found me.

My heart dropped like a stone.

I blocked the number.

But the next day, a text came from a new one.

"I know you're at the design firm."

"After work, I'll be waiting downstairs."

"You don't come down, I come up."

A bare, open threat.

My hands and feet went cold.

I didn't want to see him.

I didn't want to look at that face ever again.

Quitting time came, and one by one my coworkers left.

I dragged it out until I was the last one, then made myself walk out of the building.

Simon's car was parked at the curb.

He was leaning against the door, smoking. When he saw me, he crushed the cigarette out and came toward me.

He'd lost weight. Blue stubble on his jaw, a worn look to him.

"You've been doing well for yourself."

His tone carried a thread of mockery.

"New phone, new job. Aren't you resourceful."

I had no patience for this.

"What do you want?"

"What do I want?"

He said it like he'd heard a joke.

"Andrea, we're not divorced. You're my wife. You tell me what I want."

"I've already filed for divorce. The summons should reach you soon."

His face darkened.

"You really have to make it ugly like this?"

"Simon, you and me, this should have ended a long time ago."

"Ended?"

He grabbed my wrist, gripping hard enough to crush the bone.

"It's not over until I say it's over."

"You're coming home with me."

He hauled at me, trying to drag me to the car.

I fought with everything I had.

"Let go of me! Simon, let go!"

"Don't make me hit you."

There was a warning in his voice.

I could smell the heavy liquor on him.

As we struggled, a car pulled up beside us.

Terry got out.

"Let go of her."

His voice wasn't loud, but it was steady.

Simon saw him and narrowed his eyes.

"Who the hell are you?"

"I'm her friend."

Terry came closer and tried to pull us apart.

"She doesn't want to go with you. Show some respect."

"Friend?"

Simon let out a cold laugh, his gaze sliding back and forth between me and Terry.

"Andrea, look at you. Lined up the next one this fast?"

"No wonder you were dead set on the divorce. You've got someone on the side."

His words cut like knives.

I was shaking with rage.

"Simon, you bastard!"

"I'm a bastard?"

He yanked harder on my arm.

"You're carrying a belly out to here and still fooling around out here? Have you no shame?"

The moment the words were out, both Terry and I froze.

He'd seen it.

He'd seen my belly.

His eyes filled with shock, disbelief, and then a towering rage.

"Andrea! Whose bastard is that in your belly?"

He roared it, his hand already rising to strike me.

Terry caught his wrist just in time.

"Mr. James, please, calm down!"

"Calm down? My wife is carrying another man's kid. How am I supposed to calm down?"

Simon was like a man gone mad. His other hand came swinging at me.

Terry shoved me behind him and took the blow for me.

The fist landed on his shoulder with a dull thud.

"Get the hell out of my way!"

Eyes red, Simon threw himself at Terry, and they grappled.

I was terrified, screaming at them to stop.

A crowd of gawkers slowly gathered around us.

I felt the dull ache start up again in my abdomen.

I couldn't stay here.

While they were still tangled together, I turned and ran.

"Andrea! Stop right there!"

Simon's roar came from behind me.

I didn't dare look back. I ran with everything I had.

I don't know how long I ran, until I couldn't hear his voice anymore.

I braced myself against a wall, gulping air.

My phone rang. It was Terry.

"Are you okay? Where are you?"

His voice was ragged with breath.

I gave him the address.

Soon his car appeared in front of me.

He got out. There was a bruise at the corner of his mouth, and the shoulder of his shirt was rumpled.

"Get in."

I got in the car, and the tears came whether I wanted them to or not.

"I'm sorry I dragged you into this"

"It's got nothing to do with you."

He started the car.

"He didn't hurt you, did he?"

I shook my head.

The air in the car was heavy.

It was a long time before he spoke again.

"He doesn't know you're pregnant?"

"No."

"So he thinks"

"Yeah."

Terry didn't say anything more.

He drove me back to my apartment building.

"Go up and rest first. I'll go buy some medicine."

I looked at the cut at the corner of his mouth, sick with guilt.

"Dr. Gilbert"

"Call me Terry."

He cut me off.

"Andrea, you don't need to apologize to me."

"Protecting you is only right."

His eyes were completely serious.

My heart skipped a beat.

Simon didn't come looking for me again.

But my life fell into a new kind of trouble.

The next morning, the moment I got to work, my boss called me into her office.

Her face was pained.

"Andrea, I'm sorry. You may... not be able to keep working here."

I froze.

"Why?"

"Yesterday... your husband came to the office."

She sighed.

"He's friends with our biggest client. He put in a word, said that if the firm kept you on, he'd pull every contract."

My blood went cold, a little at a time.

"I'm sorry, Andrea. We're a small firm. We can't survive something like this."

I understood.

Simon was cutting off every road behind me.

He wanted to back me into a corner, force me to come crawling back to him.

I walked out of the firm and got a call from my landlord.

"Miss Henson, so sorry about this. My son's coming home to get married, so I need the place back."

"I'll give you three days. Please move out as soon as you can."

Here it was again.

The same familiar, flimsy excuse.

I didn't have to think to know it was Simon's doing.

He wanted me to have nowhere to stand in this city.

I hung up and stood there in the middle of the crowded street, the whole world spinning around me.

My phone rang.

Simon.

I answered.

"So, Andrea. How does it taste?"

There was a smug, cold sneer in his voice.

"No job, no place to live. Feels good, doesn't it?"

I gripped the phone tighter.

"Simon, what exactly do you want?"

"Come home."

"I'm giving you one last chance. Right now, this second, get back here."

"Or I'll show you what it really means to have nowhere left to go."

"In your dreams."

I forced the words out through my teeth.

"Is that so?"

He laughed.

"Let's just see how long you and that lover of yours can hold out."

"Oh, right. I forgot to tell you. Yvette's due any day now. Once she has the baby, I'll file for divorce immediately and marry her."

"And when that happens, don't expect to walk away with a single cent."

"I'll make sure you leave with nothing but that bastard of yours, and I'll run you out of this city."

Then he hung up.

I stood there holding the phone, cold all over.

Despair swept over me like a rising tide.

What was I supposed to do?

Where else could I go?

I crouched down on the ground, wrapped my arms around myself, and let the tears slide down without a sound.

I don't know how long it was before a pair of clean leather shoes stopped in front of me.

It was Terry.

He took off his coat and draped it over me.

"Don't be scared. I'm here."

I looked up at him through blurred, tear-filled eyes.

"I don't have anywhere to go..."

"Then stay at my place."

He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"I've got plenty of rooms."

"No... I can't... it's too much trouble for you..."

"Andrea."

He crouched down, meeting my eyes at the same level.

"You're not alone anymore. You have to think about the baby."

"Until I find you a proper place, just stay with me. All right?"

His gaze was gentle and steady, and I couldn't refuse.

He helped me pack my things and moved me to his home.

It was a spacious penthouse.

He gave me a south-facing bedroom with a floor-to-ceiling window.

"Get settled and don't worry. I'll figure out the job and the housing."

Watching him bustle around for my sake, I didn't know what I felt.

"Terry, I don't know how to thank you."

"Then cook for me for the rest of your life."

He said it half-joking.

I froze.

He smiled and explained, "I live alone, and I always just throw something together for meals. If you can solve that problem for me, that'd be the biggest thank-you I could ask for."

I nodded.

"Okay."

And so I stayed at Terry's place for the time being.

He went to work and came home on schedule every day, his life as regular as clockwork.

We were like roommates sharing a lease, never in each other's way, and yet looking out for each other.

He'd remember to buy the strawberries I liked.

On the nights he came home late, I'd leave a light on for him, and a bowl of hot soup.

The days were quiet, like a dream.

Until the day I got a call from my mother.

Her voice sounded frantic.

"Andrea! Turn on the news, quick!"

"Something's happened to Yvette!"