Tuesday, 5th September

A D D I E

The fact that I hadn't broken a bone or ended up in worse shape from the seven foot fall off a cliff was a miracle. I was grateful that Zac had found me before it got worse but I still had the headache from hell when I woke up the next morning.

There were three stitches in my temple. Stitches that I couldn't stand seeing because the sight of them reminded me of the horrendous gash in Margo's temple and the reminder of holding her lifeless, bloodied mess of a body was too much to bare.

Her death was a simple accident, just a terrible tragedy, but the image of how gruesome it all looked, it gave me nightmares, it made me nauseous. When mom and dad died, I saw their bodies in their caskets. They had this eerie glamour about them. Beautiful clothes, hair and make up done. But they were so expressionless, pale and as a teenager, I remember thinking they looked like wax.

But Margo hadn't been to the mortician, she hadn't been cleaned of her wounds and blood. Her eyes hadn't been closed and the smell of blood still makes me curl into myself.

For a death that wasn't violent or malicious or even intended to happen, it sure had chilled me to the core and left me with serious terrors whenever it flooded my mind in sleep.

Irie, Margo's friend had said that seeing a body like that was bound to leave a mark, regardless of what caused the death. She kept on repeating how awful it was that I'd had to cradle Margo's body for a full hour and a half before I finally called the police.

Through the haze of trauma, I hadn't known who to call. An ambulance seemed pointless. In the end, a coroner and the police arrived. The events that followed are a blur of questions and visitors and friends of Margo who wanted to, but couldn't help.

The more that I woke up, the more my senses kicked into action. And that was when I heard the sound of quick paced breathing. I peered through one half closed eye and saw Zac leaning against the chest of drawers on the other side of the room.

His head was down, focused on a piece of paper in his hand. I smiled for a moment, thinking about how much he meant to me and how grateful I was that he'd been there for me.

But slowly, pieces of the puzzle started to align and I shot up in bed with panic when I realised that he was reading the positive pregnancy report that I'd thrown into the bathroom bin.

"I didn't find this," he said, low and quiet, still looking at the paper. "Blake was cleaning up this morning and saw it when she emptied the trash. Thought I should know when she congratulated me and I had no idea what the hell she was talking about."

"I can explain."

He finally looked at me and I'd never seen him so cold. It stunned me. I did not know this man.

"Explain that you're pregnant with someone else's child? Cause it sure as shit ain't mine."

"No. Bu—"

"This is fucked," he let out a humorless laugh and dropped the paper as he stood up straight. "What was the angle here? Baby daddy split so you thought you'd find someone else to step in?"

"Zac," I stood up too fast but continued speaking through white dancing dots. "That is ridiculous, of course n—"

"That paper tells me you're almost two months along. You've been here for one. Is this the first time you've heard about it? Or did you know when you arrived? Or did you find out while you were here?"

"I knew. Bu—"

"For fucks sakes. You should have told me from the beginning. The hells wrong with you? Is this a fucking game? You're carrying someone else's child and dating me. And I didn't even know. Were you going to give this one up as well?"

It felt as if I had been slapped. My feet took me backward, the impact of his words more physical than I thought possible. Suddenly, I didn't want to explain the truth.

He was making assumptions again, as he had from the moment that we met. He didn't give me a chance to explain and his reaction, so strong and negative, made me feel like there was no hope for a future with him. If I had been smart, I would have realised that in the beginning instead of letting the emotion over what I felt for him, distract me from the truth.

When I didn't respond, he shrugged, piercing me with accusation. "I hope you weren't expecting me to play dad. We're not ready for that. This—"

"Can you get out."

His brows pulled.

"Get out. I'm going to pack and then I'm going to leave."

He swallowed, a range of emotions passing his face all at once. The most prominent might have been regret, but then again, I didn't know him all that well. He didn't say anything else. He walked out and slammed the door shut behind him.

Half n hour later, after I had packed my bag and then paced the room while I wondered what to do with the rest of the clothes that I accumulated, there was a soft tap on the bedroom door. I froze, standing at the foot of the bed. He must have come back to apologise. Perhaps he felt bad about how he'd handled it. I mean, no, we weren't ready to raise a child together but we could make this work. Somehow.

I deflated with a harsh exhale. No, we couldn't make this work.

My hopes were shattered when the door opened and Raine peeped through the gap.

"Hey," she smiled and slipped inside. "You're awake. I was just on a break, so I wanted to come in and see how you're doing. Feelin—"

Her sentence dropped off, spotting the packed bag and the remaining clothes folded in a neat pile on top of the drawers. My books were stacked. Toiletries in a plastic bag.

"What's going on?"

The fact that I had to tell her I was going back to Beverly Hills, when she'd been so supportive about my friendship with Willa, made it hard to look her in the face.

"You're leaving."

I nodded.

"Why?"

"I'm pregnant."

Her mouth fell open. So I explained. I explained from the beginning and then by the time I was done, I was sitting on the bed with tears streamlining down my cheeks.

"I can't believe he said all that," Raine murmured, sitting beside me. I looked at her through blurred vision. "No, I don't mean that I don't believe you. I'm just. . . Disappointed in him."

I wiped my face with the back of my hand. "I don't blame him, I guess. I'd be upset if I were in his shoes. He thinks I'm pregnant with some dudes kid and I hadn't told him. It looks bad."

"I don't care how it looks. He should have let you explain."

I bit down on the inside of my cheek, not wanting fresh tears to fall.

"You don't have to leave though," she said. "There's more here than Zac. Willa is here. You can come and stay with us if it's too weird being in the same house as my idiot brother."

"I appreciate that," I looked at her and felt an immense amount of love for this woman. She'd been nothing but supportive from the moment that I stumbled into her life. "But I do have to go home. I can't just hang around and get more pregnant and not develop some sort of concrete structure for my life. That's not going to work with a new born."

Her shoulders fell. "I guess."

"I just— I have things that I need to face at home. I just left. I left and went into total denial about the baby because— because I didn't know how to face it. I didn't want a child of my own. I was doing this for Margo. I got pregnant with Margo's child, fully intending to hand it over after it was born and then Margo died. She's dead and I'm carrying a baby that I didn't want but— but it's the last piece of my sister that I have left. How can I not keep it? It'd be like losing her all over again."

Raine exhaled and put her arm around my shoulder. "I can't claim to know what I'd do in that situation. It's unimaginable."

"And I can't go through the adoption thing again. I just couldn't. It would kill me. So I'm having my sister's baby and I don't know how to navigate this entire fucking ordeal but I have no choice. It's real. I have to go home and sort my life out."

She nodded. "Can I ask you something?"

"Yeah."

"How come you didn't tell anyone?"

"Margo died the morning after I was implanted. It was barely even a reality and after she died, everything just sort of took a backseat to that. I think I also hoped that the implantation hadn't taken. But at the same time, I did want it to take. I was confused and compartmentalizing to forget and I knew, I did know that I had to tell Zac. It just never seemed like the right time. It was wrong on my part. Super wrong. I know that. I just can't give any other explanation other than, I haven't been okay in months."

"Like I said, I have no idea what I would do in your shoes. So I won't say what was wrong or right. Who could even say what the best thing to do is in that position without having experienced it. Some things in life are in that gray space."

It meant a lot that she was so understanding, but I should have known that she would be. That was her.

Our goodbye was emotional, tearful but also full of promises. I promised her that I would call when I got home and she promised me that she would accommodate my friendship with Willa. There was no chance that I wouldn't be back to see her.

When I dragged my things downstairs, Keith was sitting in the front room with a hot tea, staring out of the window. My cab was waiting for me, no doubt he could see that and I wasn't going to leave without thanking him for having me. Part of me was nervous that Zac had told him what was going on and perhaps he wouldn't want to talk to me. Nevertheless, I had to try.

"Keith?"

He flinched and twisted in his seat, a smile forming when he saw me. "How's it going, darlin? That cab for you?"

"Yeah," I exhaled and swallowed a bout of nerves. "I have to go home, sir. It's. . . urgent. I'm really sorry that I'm leaving on such short notice. The plants are doing really well and it's—"

"Don't go stressing," he waved me off and chuckled. "I can manage the plants. You take care of whatever you need to take care of."

The cab started honking.

"I really appreciate your hospitality for the last month. It was a pretty dark time when I got here, so it made a big difference to have been shown so much kindness."

"You are most welcome, darlin'. And you are welcome back here whenever, mean that. Come and visit. Especially before I head off into a home."

"A home?"

"Yeah a village called The Delaney. Nice big place with little apartments and a restaurant and a gym and a movie room. All sorts of stuff. I'll be independent living. Lots of freedom but someone comes and cleans my apartment and everything is within walking distance."

I didn't know what to say, I had no idea that he was thinking about going into a village. "Does Zac know?"

"I briefly mentioned it yesterday afternoon."

Perhaps that was the reason that he'd been such a prick. Was he feeling upset about the fact that he and his dad would no longer be living together? Or maybe it had something to do with his future and this house. If his dad was leaving, he might have to move out.

However, I doubted that Keith would just leave Zac high and dry. Then again, perhaps he was just mad because we were sort of dating and he thought I was pregnant with another man's child. I sighed and couldn't stop thinking about what a mess I'd made of his life because I was too irresponsible to deal with my grief like a normal person. I'd been selfish and he was right to be pissed.

"Well. . . I'll make sure I come back before you go into a home then," I said.

He laughed, stood up and gave me a hug. "Don't worry. You can always visit me at the village. Whatever happened with Zac, it doesn't matter. You're a good girl. I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you too."

The cab pulled away from the house and started down the long winding drive. My stomach felt like lead, my heart, what was left of it, was staying right here in Texas where it had only just started to repair because of these people and the love they were so willing to share. The thought of facing the future alone was enough to make me nauseous, I didn't want to look three feet in front of me, let alone six months. But what choice did I have? There was no running anymore.

It was about midday the next day when I arrived at home.

Home.

That word again. It had never felt so heavy on my tongue before. I'd never thought about the word so much in my life until home became the same place that I found my sister in a pool of her own blood. This condo was the epitome of the worst thing that had ever happened to me and I stood on the doorstep, not sure how I was going to put one foot in front the other and go inside. The closer that I got, the more real it became. As it was, I was having trouble breathing. What would happen when it all hit?

The first thing that I noticed when I finally pushed the door open and dragged my bag in behind me, was how familiar the apartment smelled. It smelled like Margo. Someone must have been here and aired it out because it didn't have a musty scent that I'd have expected after it had been closed up for a month. The plants were all gone, Pete had obviously done what I asked and come to remove them all. It was emptier without them.

"Margo?" I didn't even recognize my own voice as I called out and waited for an answer that I knew wasn't going to come. My legs shook but they carried me through the living room and I veered off right before the kitchen, I couldn't look inside. I couldn't stop at her bedroom.

"Margo?!"

I flung the office bedroom door open but it wasn't the office. It was the nursery. The one that I'd set up in attempt to convince Margo to let me have her child. And now here we were, or here I was, with that child and with the crib, and the mobile and the change table and all of the things that she would never get to enjoy because she wouldn't fucking answer me.

"Margo?!" I sobbed, voice hitching as I looked around the room with blurred vision. "Margo?"

Somehow I ended up back in the living room.

"Margo?"

She wasn't going to answer me. She wasn't going to walk out of her bedroom or the kitchen. She wasn't going to come through the front door.

The floodgates broke.

Everything that I had been holding in from the moment that she died, it came to the surface and it threw me down. My knees gave out. I hit the floor and I gasped over and over again, trying and failing to breathe.

It didn't seem to matter how hard I tried, there was no air. No relief from the pressure forming around my skull. There was nothing for my hands to grab, something concrete, something that would stop me from feeling as if my mind was deteriorating. It all fell on top of me and I couldn't seem to get up again.

"Margo," I cried. "Margo, please come back."