A/N: I hope that when you read this, you are screaming at Erica not to do it. I hope when she does it, you are angry with her. You want to shake her and ask what the hell she's doing. But I also hope you feel her pain. Understand why she's doing what she's doing and want to give her the biggest hug you can muster.
Flashbacks in Italics.
And again, I promise, no fictional babies will be harmed in the telling of this. I am doing my research and trying to keep this well with the scope of plausible before she would have to worry about Fetal Alcohol Syndrome.
Chapter 6
She'd opted for Scotch this time. She was deluding herself. Taking herself into believing that there was less harm in her Scotch than the Vodka she really wanted.
The bartender was a nice young lady, who honored her request to pour only a shot worth of alcohol over the ice. It was how she felt better about this. How she convinced herself that it was alright. That a few of these, wouldn't hurt her or the baby.
She hadn't drunk any, yet. Instead she had her hand wrapped around the glass. The cool condensation against her palm daring her to pick up it up. Throw it back. Take away her pain. Part of her knew to leave the drink where it sat on the bar. Get up. Walk out. Go home eat something and get some rest. Take care of herself and this baby.
Her eyes drifted downward, landing on the small swell of her stomach. She was eleven weeks now, and on her small frame her child would be clearly visible soon. She was getting past the point where risk of miscarriage was highest. And each day she came closer to the reality that she might not lose this child.
She had convinced herself she would miscarry. That this would all have been over by now, so she could go buy another bottle of Vodka and drink herself into oblivion. She wasn't sure how to handle this, now. Did she even want this child? Jack's child or was it David's child? Did she want the drama and the questions? Did she want diapers and midnight feedings? Did any of that mater now? Now, when there was nothing left of her life. Nothing left of her heart.
She slid the glass closer, and her fingers curled tighter around it. It would be so easy to drink it. Ask for another and another. End up back at Pine Valley Hospital near alcohol poisoning.
It would all be so much easier if there was no baby to worry about.
Jack was likely out looking for her. He would be hoping she was at a meeting, but knowing somewhere in his heart where she was and what she was doing.
He had no right to be angry. He was a part of this. He knew Bianca was still pregnant and chose not to tell her. Chose to decide that she was too fragile to handle the truth. Chose to believe that he knew better than she did. He'd berated and chastised her in own living room, sure that she couldn't possibly know what was best for her. He'd made her feel small and out of control, like she didn't know who she was or how her heart and mind worked.
Who was he to tell her what to do? She was Erica Kane, damn it.
He said he loved her. Knew her better than anyone. Loved her more than anyone ever had or ever would.
She believed him. Or at least she used to. Before Greenlee. Before Michael Cambias. Before the baby Bianca insisted on forcing into their lives. Before it had all gone up in flames, she believed that Jackson was her soulmate. The one man who would never let her down. Never fail to be her rock. Her touchstone.
She wanted their life together. Lily. Reggie. The motley little family they had put together. It brought her happiness. It made her feel safe and protected.
Before they had all conspired to rip her heart out, she would have wanted this baby with all she had and relished its conception as completion of their family.
Now she couldn't even look at Jack when he mentioned the baby, afraid he would see the truth in her eyes.
That he might not be the father. That all they were still holding onto, working to rebuild was gone and growing inside of her as the worst betrayal he could ever imagine.
She and David had been tempting fate since that day in the police station. Each kiss. Each touch. Each moment alone. Fate was daring them to resist whatever was brewing between them. They should have stopped it. Should have had enough since to walk away. Let the chips fall however they were meant.
They should have known eventually they give in.
"David," Her eyes fluttered slowly, and her voice was soft and drenched in sleep. "Are you leaving?"
He nodded, down at her, a soft smile playing on her lips. He'd managed to get up from the couch without waking her, but she'd woken as he tried to move her into a more comfortable position. "We fell asleep. It's after 2am. I have an early surgery. "He'd come back over after she asked him to come back and sit with her.
They'd had takeout Chinese and talked for hours before falling asleep on the couch.
She nodded up at him, forcing her eyes open so they could meet his.
She'd asked him to come back earlier, because she didn't want to be alone. Because she knew he would sit with her, and listen, be her voice of reason. She didn't want him to go now, because she didn't want to be without him. "Stay," She asked on a whisper.
His eyes were locked with hers, and a million different thoughts passed between them, but neither spoke.
"Stay with me," She said this time, louder, more confident in where she was, what she was saying. What she wanted.
He shook his head and opened his mouth, but no words would come. His head was screaming at him to run. Go now. Don't look back. But his heart. His heart thundered loud and hard in his chest that he loved her, that they'd been dancing on this ledge for weeks, that this was where all roads lead.
She reached for his hand, but offered him no more words, as she pulled herself up.
She stood before him, close of enough that she could feel his breath. Her hand was warm in his and their eyes never left one another.
Move. Run. Go. Stop. Silent warnings that passed between them.
His hands moved to each side of her face, and he drew her close. It was too late. They were past the point of no return. The heavens could explode. The earth could start to swallow them up and they wouldn't be able to stop them.
She shuddered and leaned into his hands. Her eyes fluttered closed and he moved her closer to him, lips just out of reach.
They held their breaths, waiting one last second, to see if either had the will to pull away.
She didn't know if she kissed him or if he'd kissed her. Maybe fate had shoved them together. It didn't matter, who was first, because they were both wiling victims in fates horrible game.
They woke up a few hours later, naked and tangled together in a mass of spent passion. They didn't speak. They didn't need to.
He'd gotten dressed, tucked her in, and kissed her lips, before leaving.
They never spoke of it. And that damn test hadn't revealed that she was pregnant they would likely never have again.
She knew how he felt. That he loved her. That he would have gone up against Jack for real, if she let him. If that's what she wanted. But he didn't. He backed away respected what she wanted.
She was falling for him. Hard. Fast and with a rush of passion that she hadn't excepted. She'd been close to telling him. Close to asking him if he thought they could try again…when the truth came out.
Bianca was still pregnant. Still bringing that monsters spawn into the world.
And David knew. Helped her hide the pregnancy.
How could he do this to her? How could he make love to her, while knowing the truth was going to crush her soul? How could he hold her and tell her she would be okay? That Bianca would be okay? That they would move on.
Nothing would ever be okay again. Nothing would be left of their lives or their futures.
It was all gone.
She picked up the glass, and brought it to her lips, tipped her head back just enough so she could pour the copper colored liquid down her throat.
The glass wasn't even back on the bar before she was asking for another.
A double this time.
To be continued