compete with that?”
“What happened?” I breathed.
“There was an accident. My husband was out of town, and Mica was out skating. Nadia, still pregnant, slipped and fell on the ice.”
I covered my mouth, trying not to react out loud.
“At first it seemed okay, but then it wasn’t. Mica was alone with her, in the middle of a storm, in the middle of the night, when she started to experience terrible complications. He was with her when both she and the baby died.”
“Oh my God.”
“The cooks found him in the morning. They said there was so much blood it looked like someone had been murdered. And he was sitting on the bed next to her body, holding that dead baby. For two weeks after that, my son didn’t speak. Not one word.”
“Yelena.” Tears streaked down my face as I imagined what Mica had endured.
She continued her story. “Worse, in his grief, my husband blamed Mica. Questioning him again and again about the fall on the ice, asking him why he didn’t go for help immediately. Mica was ten. He was a child. And Nadia was the adult making the decisions that night. My husband’s foolish blame caused irreparable damage to their relationship. Mica refused to speak about the incident and would not let anyone mention her name. He threw himself into hockey, and my husband retreated into his work.”
Her voice sounded so resigned. “They both loved Nadia, and they both mourned her. Their life, their home, their happiness had died with her. They were so sad. No one could touch that sadness. I did the only thing I could do. I moved back home and took my place as wife and mother. But we were all broken. My husband lashed out at me, and I let him. Penance for my sins. And I lashed back, because someone had to pay for all this pain and hurt we now lived in. And Mica? He absorbed all of it into his heart. The damage we did to him I feared was irreversible.”
My voice trembled as I blurted out my own trauma and fear. “He left me. He doesn’t want me or this baby.”
“He’s scared, Charlie. More scared than he’s ever been. Those memories have become his worst nightmare. After that night, he told me he would never get married and he would never become a father. Now he is married and you are pregnant. I understand his fear.”
I did too. “I love him.”
“My son loves you more than life itself.”
“So what do I do?”
“You go and talk to him and you make him come home. And together you conquer this fear of his.”
We sat silently together on the phone for a long time.
Finally, I managed to say, “Thank you for sharing, Yelena.”
“I was a shit mother, but believe it or not, I’d do anything for my son.”
It took me two days to process everything she had told me. I had to sit with her words and envision what ten-year-old Mica had experienced to understand the extent of his fear. His refusal to marry, his determination never to have a child, all of that made sense in light of what he had endured. Now his reaction to everything made perfect sense. No one who lived through that, would ever want to risk living through that again.
“Are you coming back?”
“I’m going to try.”
He had asked me to take the morning-after pill. To make sure I wasn’t pregnant. I had glibly determined it would probably be okay. He had been trying to prevent his worst nightmare, and I had taken a chance that it might not happen.
What I couldn’t figure out was why we had unprotected sex. I had been the one to suggest a condom, but he had seemed almost indifferent to the risk. We had both made choices that day that had come back to haunt us, and now we were dealing with the fallout.
I didn’t feel pregnant. Other than some nausea and tighter bras, I felt like myself. I had been so distraught over Mica’s reaction that I hadn’t yet come to terms with the fact that I was going to have a baby. None of this seemed real. All I knew was that I wanted my husband back.
Getting Mica to talk to me was proving more than difficult. Mainly because he wasn’t answering his phone and I had no idea which hotel he was staying in. No one, not even Ryan, knew where he was. I was about to start stalking the arena,