AN: Again, sorry about the wait. Still working on the new house, this story isn't abandoned. Hope it hasn't been abandoned by you.
Chapter 27: Bad news
Three days later she still hasn't initiated more playtime, but the smile lasts, so I'm sure she doesn't regret it. We just agreed to not move too fast, to keep ourselves from expecting too much.
But at some point however, the euphoria comes to a sudden stop. When I walk into the room, I can tell something is wrong. She's sitting in the couch, her phone still in her hand. I don't connect the dots yet, the call to the doctor must have slipped from my mind. That is until she whispers, "I can't have kids."
I carefully sit down next to her, not really knowing what to do.
"I don't understand," I say dumbly.
She continues, "The doctor confirmed this news with the gynecologist. My womb and my ovaries are damaged, there's too much scar tissue inside, I can't get pregnant. And even if I could, it would have to be terminated because it would be too dangerous for me."
"I'm sorry, Bella," I mutter, "Did you, um, want kids?"
I know it's an awkward question, we never really talked about it. In fact, I have never thought about my own answer to that question. Do I want kids? All I've been focused on is my career. I suddenly feel so selfish, to just have that one superficial dream and nothing else.
"I don't know," she says, "Before we were together I didn't think I had a future. And now… I feel like this is just another thing I cannot give you."
At this she starts crying. I should have known that this would be her main point of view. Another reason to convince herself that she's not good enough for me.
So I shift the truth a little. "I never wanted kids anyway, sweetie."
"But you're great with kids," she sobs, "I'm not, but you are. I always thought I wouldn't be a decent mom, because I never had the right example, but you… you'd be an awesome dad."
"Even if we do want kids, later, there are other ways. But it's not like I need them. You are enough for me. Having a future with you means more to me than anything."
After a long talk and a lot of convincing, she finally gives in and decides to stop pondering about it. For now. But the mood is set and it feels like her streak of steps forward has come to an end. It's natural to still face some setbacks, but this is yet another one caused by her dad and I hate the man even more for it.
How much more can he possibly take away from her, even now after his passing?
The next days, we both get plenty distracted, because the most important game of the season is coming up. If we win this one, we'll be the champion, something that happened only once in the club history, about forty years ago.
When the morning finally arrives after a long and sleepless night, from the moment my alarm goes off, it's like the universe is letting me know today is the day. I can't explain it, but I just know that it will happen.
In the locker room, there are some nerves, but I can tell by the confident looks on the other player's faces that they feel the same way. We've worked hard for this, we deserve it and we will win. There is no doubt in the air, and we play better than we ever did before. The crowd is going insane, every pass we make comes naturally, and the victory is simply in the air.
I want to hold on to this feeling, remember it for years to come, so that I can look back on this moment with every injury that holds me back or every practice that makes every fiber inside me burn with pain.
With the first goal, there is relief in the stadium, with the second the party slowly takes off and with the third goal, the crowd starts singing champion songs. They don't stop until way past midnight, and neither do we.
After the game and after we've all showered in champagne, the fans welcome us like superheroes, and we all feel that way too.
Bella never leaves my side, and I can tell that she's proud of me, but the intensity of the party is a little too much for her. Behind her smile, there is sadness in her eyes. I wish I could retreat from all this, and comfort her, but I know she's trying really hard to hide it.
She'd feel horrible if she "ruined" this night for me, so I simply keep my eye on her and hope that she is at least enjoying this moment on some level.
It's five by the time we get home and still I don't feel tired. In the car we talk about that feeling I had during the game. Like I was Messi or something, like I could do no wrong. But she's not really listening. The smiling mask has vanished and there is only sadness left, so I drop the subject and just stay quiet.
Back inside, she doesn't walk into my bedroom, but enters her own.
"Bella? Are you mad at me?" I ask. I would totally understand, because I have been selfish all evening and have been ignoring her feelings, even if I believed I was doing the best thing.
She stops in her tracks and mutters with a sigh, "no, not mad, but I don't want to talk about it."
"Bella, please," I step closer and gently take her wrist to try and turn her around, make her face me. She softly pulls her arm back, but turns around anyway. I fight the fatigue to try and read her expression. It's not just sadness, there is hurt too.
"What did I do?" I ask, completely confused.
"You didn't do anything, Jacob," she says in a resigned tone. "I've just seen things tonight and it's been a long night and I think I just need to be alone for a little while, before I ruin your great day with stupid stuff."
"You've seen what?" I ask, trying to replay the evening, looking for events that might have upset her.
"It's just silly things," she mutters, looking at the ground.
"No, it's not," I continue stubbornly, wishing we could just skip this whole part in which I try to convince her that I want to hear it and it's not silly and so on. I'm just too tired for this.
Fortunately, she is too. She gives in easily and before she starts talking she lets me lead her to my bed. We slip under the covers with our clothes still on and I wrap my arms around her, waiting patiently for her to explain.
"It's not about the girls," she starts. And the fact that she chooses this subject to start with means that it's definitely about the girls, but I stay quiet.
"I mean, I knew about them and I won't say I'm used to them, but… it's to be expected. You're the greatest hero in the city right now, and you look awesome and it's natural that they'd give anything to be close to you and they throw themselves at you wearing practically nothing and I suppose it's natural that you would at least look, I mean, they were…"
"Bella," I interrupt her rant, "if it's not about the girls, then why are you talking about them?"
I know I should just say I don't care about any of them, but I have done so a thousand times before. Some days she is just so convinced that those girls would be better for me. It doesn't matter how many times I try to say otherwise. I'm actually too tired for this as well.
"They bugged me, that's why," she continues, with slight irritation.
"But…" I try.
"No, it's fine," Bella says, "I know it's not your fault. You showed no real interest, only a polite one I guess. It's just that they bugged me. And not just the girls. The kids as well. No, the kids didn't bug me, but seeing you with your young fans…"
She stops at this and I notice wet drops on my shoulder from her tears. There isn't much I can say to comfort her in this matter. I won't lie to her again and tell her that I never wanted kids. I know now that it's a lie. I believe I do want kids, maybe not right now, but at some point.
"I'm sorry, Bella. You probably need some time to get used to this."
"Yeah," she murmurs against my skin, "I remember our talk. And I know when the time comes, there are solutions, but still… It made me feel…"
"Inadequate," I finish her sentence. It's a common feeling for her, and a predictable one too.
"Yeah. And it made me realize that thousands of people around me were happy, filled with real joy, and you, the love of my life, had the best day of your life, and all I could manage was pretend to be happy as well. I don't know what's wrong with me. I have more now than I could have wished for a year ago, than I could have wished for ever. And I can't bring myself to be genuinely happy."
Hearing her say she's not really happy hurts me, but it's not new. We both desperately want her to be happy, to prove to ourselves that he didn't break her, but it's just not happening. And although my mood right now is biased by fatigue, I can't help but share her worry. Can't help wondering if she'll ever be happy, if I'll ever be able to heal her and really make her happy.
About this I do lie.
"Don't worry, sweetie. You've been through so much and you're only starting to deal with all that stuff. We knew when we started therapy that it would be a long process and we agreed to fight through it all together. There have been plenty of good days too."
"Hmm, I guess there have," she mutters, "It's just so easy to forget them, when I'm feeling down again."
I stroke her hair, relieved that she seems to be comforted by my words, "after the news you had this week, it's only natural to feel like you've been set back again."
"I just wish the bad news would finally stop, but I guess you're right."
"Of course," I say, with a sleepy smile. My caressing hands have moved from her hair to her back and without thinking further, they slipped underneath her top to caress her sides.
"Mmm," she purrs, but then she lazily pushes her top down again. "Not after you've been jumped by those bimbos," she explains, with a sleepy slur.
I chuckle and agree. I'm too tired anyway.
Finally, we both drift off to sleep, with in the back of our minds the hope that his hold on her life would finally come to an end.
But that hope was in vain, because the next morning we wake up to a text from my mom.
"I'm sorry to bring this news to you on the day after your victory, but I didn't want you to find out another way. Misses Swan has killed herself last night and the cops will probably contact you today for some routine questions. Give Bella our condolences and many hugs."
AN: Please keep sharing your thoughts. What will this do to Bella? Will she care?