Chapter Ten

A week went by and the most I did during the day was leave my bed to go to the bathroom. Other than that, I would stay in bed and I didn't talk to anyone. I couldn't. I was too numb to cry and I was too full of guilt to talk to Tobias or even Christina.

Christina had tried multiple times the first few days to get me to do small things, like move to the living room to watch a movie or even go down and get the mail. I couldn't move. Some nights she would climb into my bed with me and just lay there, not talking or saying anything. She just stayed there for me, in case I needed her. The first two nights I would curl up into her side and cry until I fell asleep.

Tobias…Tobias was a different story. A difficult one. He's been busy lately with practice and games – the team was trying to move up in the playoffs spot. They were close to having a secured spot in the playoffs, they just had to keep up the wins.

But when he wasn't practicing, he was at my apartment. He was basically acting as a housekeeper – he would make sure I had clean laundry and if Christina wasn't home, he would make sure that I had food to eat and he made sure that I showered regularly. He also tried to talk to me and get me to tell him how I was feeling or if I needed anything or what show I wanted to watch.

I could see what my silence was doing to him. He was frustrated and it showed in the way he clenched his jaw after I refused to answer his many questions, and in the way he would toss a pillow onto his side of the bed.

What I was doing was terrible, I knew that. But I couldn't help it. I was just wracked with guilt.

My baby had died; Tobias's baby had died.

Because of something that I did or any of the thoughts that I had. Those first few weeks, all the doubt and worry and fear! I didn't even tell my parents that I had been pregnant and right now, I just wanted my mom. I wanted to tell her everything and have her here to comfort me. To tell me something, anything, that'll comfort me.

One day, about two weeks after the miscarriage, I was lying in bed. I had just finished writing a short article for work – Max had given me an extended vacation after I gave him a quick rundown of what was happening, and he told me if I wrote one article every other week, I could take all the time I needed – when there was a soft knock against my bedroom door.

"What?" I croaked out, feeling irritated.

The door creaked open and my Mom poked her head in. "Can I come in?" She asked softly.

"What…what are you doing here?" I sit up in bed, bunching my comforter up around my stomach.

My mom gives me a soft smile and then makes her way over to my bed, taking a seat by my legs. "Tobias called me. He said that you were upset and that he was worried about you." Her lips turn down in a frown and she reaches her hand out to brush a strand of hair out of my face. "What's wrong, honey?"

I shake my head, twisting my fingers together in my lap. "I don't want to talk about it." There's a hint of an attitude in my voice and it isn't aimed at her – it's aimed at Tobias. Why didn't he warn me?

"Beatrice," My mother sighs. "Something is obviously wrong and you need to talk about it. Whatever it is, I won't judge you or get angry. Just tell me."

Sighing, I look at her. "I…had…I had a miscarriage."

My mom stares at me for a few moments, a spectrum of emotions flitting across her face from confusion to anger to worry. Her mouth is opened, like she wants to speak but no words come out. For once, my mother is speechless.

"Mom…" I almost whine – worried that she's disappointed with me.

And then she's pulling me into her, pressing my face into her shoulder in a warm hug. I sag against her in relief and feel tears starting to well up in my eyes. "Oh, Beatrice. Why didn't you tell me that you were pregnant?"

"Because I'm not married and didn't want you to be disappointed in me." I mumble into her shoulder.

She "tsks" at me and shakes her head, rubbing my back. "Oh, sweetie. I wouldn't be mad. This is your life and you are free to make any of your own decisions. You're an adult, I'm not in charge of you anymore. But I am disappointed that you never told me! Oh, Beatrice." She suddenly pushes me back to look at me again. "I'm so sorry that you had to go through this. I know you must be in pain."

I nod. "I feel like it's my fault," My voice catches and I'm prepared to start crying. "I kept doubting myself and my ability to be a good parent and I wasn't comfortable with being pregnant until two weeks before I…before I lost my baby."

My mom brushes a strand of hair out of my face, brushing it behind my ear and then resting her hand against my cheek. "It is not your fault – it happens to a lot of women. It's something that happens and it's terrible. But honey, you need to let people in. You can't keep Christina out and you most certainly can't keep out Tobias – the baby was his as much as it was yours."

She was right and I knew that she was right. But my first instinct was to push the two of them away because they didn't need to be hurting the way I was hurting.

She stayed for a little bit longer, having to run a few errands, but she reminded me to talk to Tobias and Christina as she was heading out the door.

I shut the door behind her and turned, pressing my back against the door and running my hands down my face. They unconsciously dropped to my stomach, almost back to how flat it was before the pregnancy, and I felt my throat constrict.

No. No more crying.

Looking around the living room, I'm annoyed to find it a mess – there's a bundle of blankets on the couch and pillows tossed on the floor. Mail was scattered on the coffee table and on the kitchen counter.

I start at the couch, folding the blankets and putting them in the small hall closet, and place the pillows where they're supposed to be. Then I go through the mail, tossing junk mail and then going through some of the bills and other semi-important mail.

The front door opens, startling me and causing the mail to drop from my hands. "Dammit!" I groan and start to reorganize the mail.

"Tris?" Tobias drops his keys on the counter, looking surprised to see my up and cleaning. "What are you doing?"

I hold up an envelope. "Nobody's gone through the mail in a while and it's a mess and it was bugging me."

He blinks a few times, staring at me.

And then I narrow my eyes at him. "You called my mother on me." I accuse, angry. "You called my mom! You forced me to tell her about the pregnancy!" I slam the mail down on the table, startling myself.

"You've been miserable for the past two weeks! You weren't talking to me or to Christina! I was worried, I didn't know what to do or say to you! You have no reason to be pissed at me for calling your mother. I did what I needed to and apparently, it helped, because you're out of bed and communicating and not being miserable!"

"I was hurting…" I murmur, glaring at the mail.

"And you don't think I was?!" He yells. "God, I have been hurting, Tris. Maybe not as much as you, but pretty damn close. I wasn't hurting just because we lost our baby, I was hurting because you shut me out and I was terrified that I did something, that I was a constant reminder of what we lost."

I'm twisting the ring around my ring finger, letting my anger simmer down. With tears in my eyes, I take the ring off and clench it in my hand. He asked me to marry him because we were having a baby together.

Would he have asked me to marry him if I didn't get pregnant? Probably not.

I push myself to my feet and, keeping my head down, make my way over to where he's standing with clenched fists. "I need time." I say as I press the ring into his hand after uncurling his fingers. "Just…I need time."

"Tris…" His voice is soft, pleading.

Shaking my head, I wrap my arms tightly around myself. "Please, Tobias. Just…give me a bit."

Tobias looks at me, his blue eyes wide and full of pain. After a few moments, he stuffs the ring into my pant pocket, grabs his keys and then leaves, slamming the door behind him on his way out.