looking me squarely in the eyes.
“I’m sorry,” I blurt at the same moment he asks, “What happened?”
I look at him with a confused expression and shake my head. “With what?”
“Don’t play games with me, Rae. Aren’t we beyond that now? Your momma already summarized it for me but I am beginning to think maybe she’s just trying to spare my feelings while covering your ass. What happened?”
Oh.
“It’s all in the past. I’m over it.” I reply, but the tears gathering on my lashes do nothing to corroborate my story.
“Yeah you look it,” he deadpans. “Tell. Me,” he demands again, stepping closer to me. I attempt to back away but he snags me around the waist and hauls me toward him.
“Look at me,” he orders.
“I—don’t…” I begin shakily.
“Tell me,” he insists. “Why’d I lose you?”
“You don’t want to know, and I don’t want to say,” I whimper shaking my head. “I know you think you want to know every little detail about what happened back then but Sy, I’ve spent years keeping it from you because it’s not pretty,” I warn. Sy’s features go from appearing irritated, even disgusted with me, to dread.
“Tell me. It’s bad. I know it’s gotta be bad. Just put me outta my misery, Rae.”
“That’s going to hurt.”
“I understand pain.”
“Yeah, well I do too, but I don’t think you’ll understand this. I don’t even understand it.”
“Try me. Please.” Minutes stretch out between us and I start to wonder if I should just run. Again.
“Please,” he repeats and the look on his face is crippling for me.
“I screwed up. I knew I did. I was so heartbroken when I broke up with you. For a whole week I cried myself into a coma. I realized I’d rather try to make it work with you no matter what than to be without you.” I press my palm to my chest, hoping my heart will stop racing.
“I went after… I—I went to talk to you a week after I ended it and I saw you with Brooklyn so I didn’t go through with it. I turned around and left. I got so mad and jealous.” I shake my head.
“You tried to come back to me?” He squints his eyes at me and his voice has softened. I nod and fight against the anxiety trying to unleash itself on me.
“And then—I—had to—work,” I go on between big gulps of air. “I was dumb—That night I went with a guy I knew—from work. I thought I wanted to get back at you. I just didn’t want to hurt. I was so stupid, and I didn’t want to go through with it after all and when things got out of hand, I asked him to stop—I begged and I tried to fight but—I—I couldn’t,” I whimper, even though I am trying my absolute best to tell him the truth as calmly as I can. Still, a torrent of tears begins pouring down my face. “He was too heavy and too drunk and he just wouldn’t stop,” I say, confessing my ugly truth that oozes the same misery I felt that night. “He got me pregnant,” I confess through a cracked voice. Sy gasps then wraps his arms around me and scoops me up in his arms, our bodies colliding violently. I cry in Sy’s shaking arms until I feel I can go on and tell the rest of the horrid story.
“I planned my abortion for my eighteenth birthday, alone. I hadn’t told a soul. I was afraid to. By the time I got to the clinic, I was torn about going through with it. It didn’t matter in the end, because the baby wasn’t there anymore. I felt like it knew I wished it away,” I hiccup as fresh tears trail down my face. “I couldn’t believe that had happened to me,” I sniffle. “I didn’t want to believe it or take responsibility for it. I wanted to blame everyone else. Including you.” My eyes feel as though they turn unseeing and dull. “I blamed myself and everyone else,” I say then finally stop talking to look up at Sy.
“You don’t want to say it or maybe you can’t,” he says, his voice breaking. “So I’ll say it for you. You blame me and every time my name comes across your mind or you lay eyes on my face you see his too,” he says so sadly that my heart breaks all over again. “And I don’t blame you one bit,” he adds,