He'd never forgotten the sound Amber made when the doctor told them they'd lost the baby. It was a gut wrenching noise that echoed off the walls of the emergency room, and the walls of his heart. His memory had stored the sound against his wishes, and it had made itself known in his darkest times, and also in his dreams. He could hear it now, sitting under a tree in Halsey Reserve on a nondescript Sunday, a decade later. That's how he knew. She had wanted to keep the baby. She wouldn't have been so upset if she planned on giving it up. I don't know if she even knew that until the decision was no longer hers.
He looked across at her, her eyes glassy. "We were so young," she said, staring at the grass in front of her. "So young." What does she mean by that? It was true, of course; he was 20 and she had just turned 19. Maybe she was referencing how unprepared they'd felt. Maybe she was still in disbelief a seemingly healthy pregnancy in a healthy young woman ended that way. Or maybe she was referring to the mistakes they'd made afterwards, based on their differing levels of maturity. They didn't tell anyone. It was hard to see Amber lie to her parents, but she didn't want to tell them. She didn't see the point. She went straight back into her college life as if nothing happened. So he followed suit. Went straight back into being a wrestler, as if nothing happened. But something had happened. I wonder if things would've been different if I acknowledged it, rather than pushed it away.
"Why are you so stiff all of a sudden?"
Jimmy was asking the question, but Jon had heard whispers around the locker room. He was falling, striking, bumping harder than usual. Harder than he should be. He knew he was doing it, but it was almost subconscious. He couldn't stop it. "Oh, really?" he lied through his teeth. "Shit. I'll work on that. Sorry." Jimmy looked at him, unconvinced. "Everything okay man?" Jon raised his eyebrows, nodding. "Yeah, everything's sweet, man. Just need a good night's sleep." Jimmy lingered, then nodded, accepting that. It was true; he'd not had a full night's sleep in a week. But he wouldn't let on that was because he was drinking most nights, and then haunted by the same dream each time he managed to drift off. The flicker of the heartbeat, Amber's scream. They were an imperfect duet inside his mind. And it was beginning to drive him mad.
He heard Amber sniff next to him. He turned to her, seeing a tear roll down her cheek. "When was the last time you spoke about this?" he asked gently. She wiped her face. "To a college counsellor. Probably eight years ago now." He felt a punch in his chest. She went to counselling over it. All of it. Good one. "Never to anyone else?" he asked, genuinely surprised. "Never," she said, shaking her head. But why? Why would she choose to keep that inside? She had always been so good at dealing with things. "I was so ashamed," she said, dropping her head into her hands. Ashamed that you were pregnant? That you'd been carrying my baby? He'd never thought of that. It hurt him to think maybe she'd thought that. "I failed, you know?" she said looking up at him, smothered tears on her face. "I felt like such a failure. Isn't that what women are meant to do? Bear children? And I failed. Spectacularly." Her tone was full of venom. He felt a twitch in his heart. She blames herself. She hates herself. Still. He moved closer to her. "It wasn't your fault, Ambie," he said gently, placing a hand on her knee. "They told us that. Things like that just happen sometimes." She looked at him sideways, the sadness and self-doubt evident. "Yeah well, words are easy, aren't they?" She lay her head down against his shoulder, blinking out a few more tears.
Jon didn't know what to do. He knew they had to talk about this today, but he hated that it upset her so much. He wouldn't have expected attending Rick's wedding would lead to this; Amber sitting beside him, her head on his shoulder. He wished he could enjoy the moment. Instead, their closeness was wrapped in pain for them both. He dipped his head slightly and kissed her hair, so gently she may not even have felt it. I know what it feels like, he said to her in his mind. The blame. It's crippling.
Jon sat up, recognizing his single bed in the rented apartment. He wasn't sure how he got there, but the car keys were on the bed next to him. He ran a palm down his face, trying to focus his eyes. Last night had been pretty messy. He remembered drinking with a few of the guys, but that was it. The rest didn't even register.
There was a knock at the door. That's what had stirred him. He thought it had just been in his head. He stumbled through the mess on his floor, down the hallway, and opened the door, blinking into the sunlight. "What the hell has happened to you?" he heard her say, before he saw her. "What a f-king mess you are," she said, forcing her way past him.
Jon had been in Puerto Rico for a month. The opportunity had come up and he knew he had to take it. Amber had been fully supportive, and even though he was hesitant to leave her, it was too good an opportunity to turn down. What he hadn't accounted for was how the loneliness and distance would affect him. Amber had tried to talk to him every day, but before long, he was too ashamed of his behaviour to answer her calls. If he was even with it when she called. The last time they spoke they'd argued, and they never argued. But he had been hungover and on a downer, unable to fully respond to her conversation. "I feel like I don't know who you are, on top of not knowing where you are," he remembered her yelling at him.
And here she was. Standing in his shithole of an apartment he shared with four others, who must've been at the gym. How the hell did she get here? he thought to himself. How the hell did she find me? "Show me your arms," she said directly. It wasn't a request. It was a demand. He wasn't present enough to have any other rebuttal than disobedience. "Show me your arms!" she screamed at him, moving towards him and pushing his sleeve up. He knew what she'd find there, and she must've too. The sight of puncture wounds in his arm took her breath away. She took a step back, shaking her head. She brought her eyes to his; he couldn't read her expression. She looked like she could cry. She looked like she could scream.
"I'm so disappointed in you," she said, her voice shaking. Jon felt like he was going to be sick, unsure if it was because of her words or because of last night's concoctions. Her face was stone. Why doesn't she understand? This is my outlet. "Don't you know what month it is?" he said, his head pounding. She looked at him with ice in her eyes. "Of course I know what month it is," she spat out. "So forgive me if I feel like I need support from the only other person who would understand. But you're clearly not in the state to provide that." She began pacing, her breathing heavy. Jon's mind was a mess. He wasn't out of first gear mentally, and even if he was, he probably still wouldn't be able to handle this conversation. Frustration built within him. "Don't sound so surprised, Amber. I'm a failure at everything. Just like always. A failure as a boyfriend. A failure as a wrestler. It's no surprise my f-king sperm failed too." A small hint of compassion glossed over her eyes, before her resolve returned."We lost the baby, Jon. Deal with it." His jaw dropped. Deal with it? How can she be so cold? His fists balled. "Like you did? Shutting out everyone else and studying yourself to death? That's how you 'dealt' with it? Well I'm down here doing what you did; numbing it all from my brain." He swore her eyes were about to pop out of their sockets. "Don't you dare compare us. Not like this." He scoffed. "It's exactly the same." She shook her head. "Don't be stupid. Don't you know this can kill you?" she said, kicking an empty vodka bottle for emphasis.
They'd reached an impasse. Amber feeling she'd made her point, Jon unable to string together a coherent argument. After a moment, Amber changed tack. "You have to stop," she said softly. "I can't lose you too." Jon sighed. I can't lose you either. But I can't stop it. She continued. "You're choosing to do this to yourself. We lost the baby, but we didn't choose that. There was nothing we could do about that. But you can do something about this." I'm not sure I can. Every time I'm straight I can't see through the darkness. "Please Jon," she added. "If not for me, then for your career. Who is going to want you like this?" You. Please tell me you do. He had words flying around in his mind but he couldn't put them together. He fell back onto the sofa, groaning at the spinning in his head.
She sat down next to him, and he thought that maybe she'd stay. How long is she here for? If she's here, maybe I have a chance. She looked around the living room. "This place is gross," she murmured. "They need to put you somewhere better." He watched her look around, taking in the mess on the floor, the kitchen bench, and the coffee table next to her. "What the hell?" she said, picking up a Kleenex. No. No no. Don't look in there. Please. She tipped three small white pills into her hand, looking at them before back at him in complete disdain. "Who the f—k are you now?" she said, angrily. She picked her bag up off the ground, moving away from him. "I love you, but I can't… I just can't cope with this. Get some help." She rubbed her temples. He bounced his leg up and down off the ground. Please, please don't go, Amber. Stay. Help me do this. "Call me when you sort this shit out," she said, bitterness in her voice. She walked out, not even bothering to close the door behind her. Jon picked up a bottle and threw it at the kitchen wall. The noise it made shattering against the wall made his head hurt. A nice distraction from the pain in his heart.
It had taken him years to recover from those months in Puerto Rico. The addiction side of things was almost the easy part. Getting his life back on track wasn't. He'd gone back to Cincinnati, a loser, with nothing. And drunk himself senseless. He never called Amber, he couldn't bring himself to. He hadn't 'sorted his shit out' so he didn't think she would want to see him in this state. He did drive up to Columbus one night, drove past her apartment, ready to talk to her. But his inner demon got the better of him, and he turned around and drove straight back to Cincinnati. That was the night he met Rick. He broke down in tears outside his bar, telling him he'd lost his girlfriend, they'd lost a baby, and he'd lost his career. Rick had taken sympathy on him, taken him in to his house and helped him get back on his feet. He gave him a job cleaning up the bar after closing time, which gave Jon some cash in his pocket. And when an opportunity came up in Philadelphia, he encouraged Jon to take it. "You gotta get back in the ring," he'd said. Said it would clear his head and give him focus. And while Rick was the encouragement, Amber was the motivation. He had to prove himself to her. He had to show her he was better than that.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I'm sorry for being such a jackass." That's all he could manage. He figured that statement was sweeping enough to cover everything; his stupid behaviour, his bad decisions, his silence. She shook her head softly. "Don't worry about it," she replied. "We were young. Neither of us were equipped to deal with any of that. I shut down too, I pushed everyone away. Including you." She's too polite. I was an asshole. I was stupid. She's just too nice to say it. "I had only just got over the shock of being pregnant and then suddenly I wasn't anymore," she continued, her voice wavering. "I'd never asked to have a baby but I sure as hell didn't ask for it to be taken away from me." "From us," Jon said staring at the ground. They both sighed, a silence falling over them for a moment. "I made stupid decisions," he said, looking out towards the park. "I didn't have anything there to support me. I shouldn't have gone. I shouldn't have left you, it was too soon." Those words hung for a while, before he added to them. "You were the best part of me Ambie. I didn't have much else back then." That's why it all fell apart without you. Amber turned to him, smiling gently. "Well, you've sure turned that around, haven't you?" Because of you, though. You just didn't know it.