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Chapter 24: Broken
May 2nd
5:23 PM
The Loft
"Mimi?" Roger called, knocking softly on her door. He didn't want to wake her if she was asleep, but she'd been locked in their room almost continuously for the past week and a half. Roger had been sleeping on the couch, or on the floor in Mark's room, trying to respect her need for space. But when she'd asked Mark to accompany her to the hospital for a follow-up visit and come back without so much as acknowledging Roger's presence, he'd decided it was time to confront her.
Roger knocked again, then tried the door handle. It was unlocked, and he opened the door and stepped in, telling himself that he had every right to be there too. He found Mimi curled up on the bed, frantically scribbling something on scraps of paper.
"You're awake," Roger stated gently.
She jumped slightly, wrote a few more words, then turned to look at him.
"Yeah."
"You didn't answer when I knocked. I thought you might be asleep."
Mimi shrugged and shook her head.
"What are you working on?" Roger tried again, desperate to hear her say more than a few words at a time.
"Just. . .stuff."
"Okay. . ." Roger sighed. "What did the doctor say?"
"That I'm not healing as fast as I should be and that I should start taking antibiotics to prevent infection."
She turned away from him and started writing again.
"Are you still in pain?" Roger asked.
"Some. I don't notice much."
Roger sat down on the edge of the bed beside her, laying a hand on her shoulder. She flinched slightly and Roger pulled back.
"What's wrong?"
"I don't know. . .I just—want to be happy again and I can't. Isn't that awful? I'm just so sick of all of this. It's like. . .I don't want to do anything anymore, but I can't stand to do nothing. Everything I try just makes me feel worse."
"You could at least talk to me," Roger said, more harshly than he'd meant to. He knew instantly that she'd taken it the wrong way and wished he could take it back as soon as he saw the look of anger that settled over her face.
"Back off."
"Mimi, you know it was my child too! It's hardly like you're the only one who has a right to be upset."
"Your child that you didn't want!"
Her voice was low and precise, filled with hate.
"I never said that!" Roger shot back, knowing it was a lie.
"No, you never did. But you made it obvious enough. The least you could do is just leave me alone right now. But even that seems impossible for you."
"Mimi, I've tried to give you your space, but don't you think you're overreacting here?"
She sat up at that, looking him straight in the eye. Roger met her gaze for a few seconds, then gave in and looked away.
"You bastard," she whispered, "If it weren't for your carelessness, this never would've happened."
"And if it weren't for your carelessness, you never would've gotten pregnant and it never would've even been a question!" Roger shouted.
"Oh and it's all about you once again!" she yelled back. "You know what, Roger? It's over! I've had it with you and your fucking lack of responsibility!"
She started to cry. Roger just sat there for a moment in shock, then the anger returned.
"Fine. Leave." Roger pointed to the door. "Out!"
He began pulling her things out of drawers and throwing them on the floor. Finally, he stopped and turned to look at her.
"I'd rather have a girlfriend who didn't betray me every time I turned my back. Was the baby even mine?"
Mimi just stared at him, her mouth open in shock.
"Yeah, that's what I thought," Roger muttered, then turned and walked out, slamming the door behind him. He stormed back out into the living room and ran straight into Mark.
"Whoa," Mark gasped, rubbing the shoulder that Roger had just collided with. "What just happened there?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing," Mark mimicked sarcastically.
Roger glared at him, then walked over to the refrigerator and pulled out a beer, popping the top off and taking a long swig.
"Where did that come from?" Mark asked, shooting Roger an accusing look.
"I bought them. This morning. While you were out taking my girlfriend, oh, excuse me, fiancée, to the hospital."
"Roger, I only did what she asked me to."
"Right. Exactly. She ask you. Not me. I ask you, what is wrong with this picture?"
"She knows how much you hate hospitals, Rog. And besides, you're not exactly able to be calm about this. I really think you should be a little more sensitive to Mimi."
Roger snorted.
"Right. I'm the one at fault here," Roger shot back sarcastically.
"I heard everything," Mark admitted suddenly.
"What?" Roger asked, his anger fading. "You were listening?"
"What?" Roger asked, his anger fading. "You were listening?"
"No, but when you're both screaming it's kind of hard not to."
Roger sighed.
"Mark. . .what am I going to do? I just want this all to be over."
"But it isn't. And you can't change that." Mark took the half-empty beer can out of Roger's hand. "Go talk to her. You might still be able to fix things."
"She won't talk to me!" Roger protested. "Except to blame me!"
"Roger, you said yourself it was you fault. And it doesn't matter if she talks to you. You can still apologize whether or not she says a word."
Roger just stood there. Mark shook his head and walked toward the bedroom. "If you won't talk her, I will."
Mark knocked on the door. There was no answer, but he could hear Mimi sobbing loudly in the bedroom.
"Mimi?" he called.
When there was still no reply, Mark knocked again, louder. He jostled the door handle.
Locked.
"Mimi, answer me if you're okay and I'll leave you alone. I just want to make sure you're all right."
Mark waited again, his heart suddenly fluttering with fear. A few seconds later, there had still been no answer and Mark decided he had to take action. He slammed his shoulder against the door as hard as he could, breaking the lock. The door swung open and Mark entered cautiously.
Mimi was sitting on the other side of the bed, hugging her knees to her chest and shivering violently. Mark knelt down beside her.
"Mimi, what's wrong?"
She looked up at him, her eyes full of tears.
It was then that Mark saw the spot of blood on the inside of her arm and the used needle on the floor.
"Mark. . .I'm scared," she whispered, a few tears slipping down her cheeks.
"What. . .how much did you take?" Mark asked, trying not to panic. "And where did you get it?"
"Last night. . .while you were asleep I. . .too much. . .I was so sure. . .Mark, I don't want to die. I didn't really think I'd do it. Please. . ."
Mark was on his feet in an instant, his heart racing.
"Roger! Call an ambulance! Now!"
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