Loss

He had tried. He really had. She wanted to be mad at him for not giving her a chance, but how could she? He had given her a chance, and she had blown it. This wasn't his fault. He didn't deserve this. She stood in the doorway, a silent tear running down her cheek. He hadn't heard her come in. He thought he was alone. And here she stood, witness to a private moment that was tearing her heart in two. Because she knew it was her fault. If only the last 48 hours had never happened.

Two days ago things had been good. Frank had forgiven her. She had avoided Michael successfully after telling him to leave her alone. She'd even patched things up with Tom. "Bombshell" had gone great in tryouts. And she was looking forward to returning to her family in New York and just resting for a bit. She was so tired and stressed, but it was over. It was all over.

Until a chance encounter changed all that.

She had stepped outside for some fresh air. The dressing rooms were becoming increasingly unpleasant, as the odor of sweaty costumes and hairspray built up night after night. She was leaning against the cool brick wall, shaded from the sun, willing her stomach ache away. A gentle breeze cooled her burning eyes. She closed her eyes and rested. Her breathing slowed down. The waves of nausea subsided. She was about to head back inside and tell Tom she was fine. But before she collected the energy to open her eyes and move, the stage door crashed open and Michael rushed out.

"Julia!" he cried, surprised to see her in the alley behind the theater. Her pulse quickened. Fear, shame, and excitement pulsed through her veins. Why did he always make her body react that way?

"No." She gritted her teeth, opened her eyes and said, "No. I choose Frank. Please, just go."

"I am," he said. "I'm leaving the show. I just told Derek. I'm on my way to the hotel to pack up." Against her wishes, Michael had reached out and laid his hand on her shoulder. "I only came for you, Jules. You know that. Without you..." He didn't finish the thought. He didn't need to. His goodbye speech broke her heart. Why had Tom let them hire Michael back on? Why did he have to run into her and say goodbye instead of slipping off into the night? She reminded herself that this was what she wanted. She wanted Frank and Leo. But…

She reached up and pulled his hand into hers. She looked up into his eyes, and she couldn't help it. She wanted to say goodbye, but a tear ran down her cheek.

"Julia!" he gasped. "Do you want me to stay?"

Her eyes gave her away, answering "yes" without words.

"No!" She corrected herself, eyes widening. But he was looking at her with his pleading eyes, whispering again "I love you, Jules."

"I know."

With her back still to the wall, she had nowhere to go when Michael stepped forward and pressed his lips onto hers. Her body responded instantly, her resolve crumbling. She wrapped her arms around his neck and returned his advances, overwhelmed by desire and unable to stop herself. She knew Michael was leaving. She knew Frank would leave, too, if he ever found out.

"He'll never know…" she whispered into Michael's ear, forgetting that they had said the same thing a few months ago. A burning blossomed inside her, and she needed Michael. Frank would never know.

Time seemed to simultaneously slow down and speed up. Each touch, each caress, each kiss lasted for an eternity and was over in the blink of an eye. Stars danced across her vision. Nothing mattered but Michael. She didn't care if the whole world was watching as she pulled off his shirt and he removed hers. Her hands shook as she undid his belt. She shook her head "no" when he asked if she wanted to go inside.

"Here. Now." She whispered in a husky voice. So there, against the back wall of the theater, she gave herself to him in a final act of betrayal to her family.

And maybe that would have been the end. But something unexpected happened. Just as the peak of an orgasm exploded inside of her, Michael cried out in ecstasy and Julia collapsed in his arms, unconscious.

A few seconds later, she smiled up at Michael and said "Wow." She was glowing. "That was incredible. I mean, wow." A moment of silence. "Why aren't you saying anything?"

"You passed out."

"I know. That was incredible."

Michael was confused. "I called 9-1-1. I thought something was wrong. Something IS wrong. You don't pass out after…"

She sat up quickly. "Nothing's wrong! You did what? Michael…"

He looked at her, his face etched with concern.

"And put some clothes on. Hand me my shirt. Where's my skirt? This did not just happen. I told you to go away. Why are you still here?"

"Jules…"

"Shut up. Just shut up. I told you 'no'. I told you to go away. Now go home. I don't ever want to see you again."

The words cut into his heart like a knife.

"Jules…" his eyes pleaded as he knelt down beside her where she sat adjusting her layers of clothing.

The sound of a siren approached and her eyes flashed with anger. She shifted her weight and tried to button her shirt. Her hands shook, fumbling. Michael reached forward and slid the buttons into place for her. Another tear ran down her cheek.

"Now go. And get rid of them," she gestured toward the paramedics just stepping out of the ambulance. She stood and stepped away from Michael. She made it two steps before collapsing again.

She woke up in Michael's arms. Again. This time, she didn't smile. She tried to get up, to run away. This couldn't be happening. But it was. When the paramedics started poking and prodding and asking questions, she responded in a daze. The world felt like it was floating away in a bubble. She didn't even have the energy to object when Michael told the paramedics that she had passed out during sex. It was over. Her life was over. She closed her eyes and fell asleep.

She woke up cold and uncomfortable. When she opened her eyes, she moaned at the bright light. And then she remembered everything.

"Frank?" she asked, both wishing he was there and hoping he would never know what she had just done.

Tom's face leaned over her hospital bed.

"Frank and Leo are on their way; and Michael…"

"What happened? Wait, did you say Michael?"

"He's waiting outside."

"NO." She responded with a vengeance. She couldn't be anywhere near him. "Send him away."

"Wait, there's more…"

"I'm not dying, am I? Please tell me I'm not dying…"

"No, you'll be fine. But it was close."

"What was? What happened? I mean, besides… Oh, Tom. I did it again." Her eyes glistened with tears.

"I know, sweetie. Everyone knows."

"Everyone? How? Frank?" She was too overwhelmed to form complete sentences. And tired, so tired.

"Why am I so tired?"

"The doctor said you lost a lot of blood."

"Wait. Does Frank know?"

"That you lost a lot of blood? Yes."

"I'm so tired…" her mind wandered off and she forgot what it was she had been so upset about. "I'm just going to sleep for a few minutes…"

She woke up again to the sound of arguing just outside her door. She was less groggy, and she didn't like what she was hearing. It didn't make sense. Frank was yelling now. She saw Tom hurry to the door and the fighting stopped instantly. She wanted to know what was going on, but there was no one in the room now. She tried to sit up, but there were so many wires and tubes and needles. Ugh, she hated needles. She found the little button with the light bulb that usually meant "call a nurse" so she pushed it and the one next to it just in case. The TV turned on. So she pushed both buttons again and the TV turned off. Moments later, a disembodied voice came from the wall behind her bed "Can I help you?"

"Um, yeah. What the heck is going on? Why do I have these needles in my arms? Where is my family? Why do I feel like I have to pee an entire twelve pack?"

"Hold on Mrs. Houston, I'll be right there."

Her definition of "right there" was a tad different than Julia's. It felt like an eternity straining to hear the hushed whispers outside her door. She tried to decipher the sounds she heard, but it wasn't helpful. Did he say train or strain or drain? What is he talking about? Did someone just say penis? They're talking about blood now. Or maybe food.

Finally, the door opened and Tom, Frank, and a nearly anorexic nurse in cartoon printed scrubs entered the room.

The blond girl started "The doctor will be right here. I paged him to let him know you're awake. He's already talked to your husband, so I'll let him fill you on and you can ask the doctor any questions when he gets here. And about your need to urinate, it's because you have a catheter in, sweetie. It always feels like you're holding a full load, but you can relax. It's just a balloon." And she turned and walked back out the door.

The room was filled with awkward silence, no one knowing what to say or where to start. Frank finally broke the silence.

"Is it true?"

"Is what true?"

"Were you really with HIM? You told me it was over. You promised me."

"Frank…"

"Did you even know you were pregnant? Or were you so busy sleeping around behind my back you didn't even notice?"

"Frank… what?"

"Apparently when Joe DiMaggio went to bat he ran into a baby who was hanging a bit low. Doc said these things can happen, especially to older women who act like sluts."

Tom interrupted him. "Frank, that's not what he said."

Julia turned to Tom. "What?"

Tom turned to Frank. "Calm down. This isn't helping anyone." And then he turned to Julia.

"The doctor said you were about three months along with a cervical ectopic pregnancy. Which would mean nothing to me if the hospital didn't have Wi-Fi…"

"Three months?" she whispered. "Frank, it's not Michael's."

"Wasn't." He glared at her, pain etched in his forehead. "Would that have stopped you? If you had known? Am I supposed to feel better that at least the baby my wife was carrying while she slept with another man was mine?"

"Frank…" She was still unable to form sentences. The shock of it all was too much.

Tom rescued her again. "The pregnancy was in the wrong spot, which means it wouldn't have survived. It also meant that you might have had what looked like, well, you know what girls get once a month."

"A period?"

Tom made a little retching face at the word, making the corner of Julia's mouth turn up in the hint of a smile.

Tom continued, "How much do you remember?"

"I was so tired and dizzy. I could hardly get my clothes back on."

Frank moaned. Tom put his hand on his shoulder. Frank shook him off. Julia hung her head in shame.

Tom spoke next.

"There was so much blood, Jules. When the paramedics arrived, they saw you try to stand up, but you were already soaked to the knees. By the time they reached you, you and Michael were both covered. I shouldn't have let you go out there alone…"

Frank interrupted "I shouldn't have let you come to Boston."

Julia just closed her eyes and leaned her head back on her pillow and cried. She never heard the doctor come in.

"Ma'am?" he interrupted her thoughts.

"Yes?"

"We've cleared away the entire pregnancy, and given you some blood. The procedure was similar to a D and C, but we didn't need to go past the cervix so your recovery should be faster. You are doing much better, but your pressure is still a bit low. We're going to keep you over night and continue hydrating you, and I'm going to have the nurse remove your catheter and show you how to use the bathroom. You should be clear to go home tomorrow morning. You'll need to follow up with your OB/Gyn next week. And no intercourse until your doc gives you the go ahead. Any questions?"

"I'd like to sleep now."

So the doctor ushered everyone out of the room and left Julia alone with her thoughts.

So the next day, here she was, in the doorway of her bedroom watching her husband sit on the edge of the bed, the bed they had shared for eighteen years, weeping. He held his wedding band in his hand, whispering into the air "I will always love you… but how will I ever trust you again? I can't do this. I just can't. Oh Julia, why? What did I do wrong?" And in that moment she knew that he couldn't forgive her. That their marriage was over. That she had just lost everything.