Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100332 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100332 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
She shook her head slowly. “I can’t see it. I just can’t.” Sobs wrecked her shoulders, and I just wanted to go to her and console her. Fuck, I wanted to kneel by her feet and press my head against her belly. I wasn’t even sure why.
“I’ll handle it,” I said. I’d dealt with so much blood and worse in my life, so I would do this for Sara.
For a long time, we just looked at each other. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but a silent understanding passed between us.
The lock turned.
“It’s me!” Liliana called.
“Bedroom,” I called back.
She rushed in, then briefly froze when she saw Sara on the bed before she hurried over to her and helped Sara get up. Romero briefly glanced in, but then he retreated with a heartbroken expression. I stayed where I was, only watched as Liliana helped Sara into the bathroom. More blood trailed down Sara’s legs now, tinging her pants red. I turned away when Sara got undressed and listened to the sound of the shower being turned on. The water didn’t drown out Sara’s sobs or Liliana’s words of consolation.
I peered up. Sara huddled in the shower with her mother by her side as water spilled down on both of them. Sara’s eyes were closed, and her head leaned back. The water made it hard to see her tears, but the pain on her face was like a punch in the gut. Blood and water mingled on the marble surface of the shower.
I waited silently for two hours, bearing witness to Sara’s pain, physically and mentally, and wondered if this was my punishment. I fucking deserved it, but Sara didn’t deserve any of this misery. It made me incredibly mad, so fucking angry at the world.
Eventually, I stared at the floor because my rage at the universe became like a roaring fire that threatened to burn everything down.
When the sound of the water turned off, I looked back up. Liliana had wrapped Sara in a towel and helped her toward the bed. I took gauze from the bathroom cabinet and carefully picked up the remains of our baby, wrapping them up. I briefly closed my eyes because they burned. The warm fog probably triggered my eyes. I got up and carried the gauze into my bedroom, where I kept a beautiful antique ivory jewelry box with intricate flower carvings Mom had given me for this occasion. I hadn’t understood when she’d given it to me a couple of days ago, but now I did. I opened it and put the gauze inside, then closed it. I stared at the beautiful box, glad it was white and not made from wood like a coffin.
“Fuck,” I breathed and stared up at the ceiling.
A knock sounded, and Liliana poked her head in. “Sara would like to bury… bury the baby now.” Her face was tearstained too. She glanced from my face down to the box in my hands.
“Is it in there?”
I nodded.
“It’s beautiful.”
“Where does Sara want to bury it?”
“She doesn’t know.”
“There’s an old oak in the woods behind my parents’ house. I used to go there when I wanted to be alone.”
She smiled. “That sounds like a peaceful place. I’ll ask Sara.”
“Do that.” My voice was croaky, and my throat felt dry.
Thirty minutes later, Liliana and Romero helped Sara into my truck. She was pale and shaky, but she refused to see a doctor. Romero and I exchanged a glance. After the burial, we’d have to convince her to see our doc. It was still dark outside when we started the drive. I’d called my parents and told them we were coming to the house and why, then hung up before Mom could try to console me.
Sara and Liliana sat in the back while Romero sat in the front with me. He held the jewelry box in his lap.
When we pulled up the driveway, Mom and Dad waited on the porch with gaslights as it was still dark.
Together, all of us walked toward the oak tree. When we arrived, the sun rose over the treetops, lighting up the spot where I planned to bury the box.
I grabbed the shovel from Dad and began to dig into the hard ground. Soon, I had to use the pickax to make progress. Nobody said anything as I worked on the hole. Eventually, when I deemed it deep enough that it would be safe from being dug up easily, I straightened. Romero still held the box.
“Can I?” Sara asked, motioning at the box, her chin wobbling. Romero handed it to her. She peered down at it, then up at me with anguished eyes. She took a step toward the hole and almost broke down. I grabbed her arm to steady her and helped her the rest of the way. She fell to her knees in front of the hole and slowly lowered the box into it. She touched her fingertips to the lid and closed her eyes. Then she looked up at me with a small nod.