I didn’t tell her about the six months after his death when I could barely function, or the two years after that I lived like a zombie, reliant on anti-depressants just to get through each day. My move to Chicago was my chance to start over. I became Liz—hardened, invincible party girl extraordinaire, only looking for a good time and an occasional fling.
There was no way I could have gone on living in Iowa after Paul died. Traces of him were all over the small town where I grew up. Having to pass by my parents’ country club where we’d met, restaurants we’d eaten at, or other familiar places on a daily basis would have been too much. I’d taken a semester off school after his death and then transferred to Chicago after that.
I loved living in Chicago now. The hustle and bustle, the pace of it all, the traffic jams and ethnic diversity ensured that I was rarely reminded of my small-town Iowa upbringing.
“Why didn’t you ever tell me, Liz?” Ashlyn’s concerned voice pulled me from my own thoughts.
“I don’t like talking about it—for obvious reasons.”
She nodded and patted my knee again. “You never judged me for being with Aiden.” She squinted her eyes. “Well, maybe just a little, but that’s only because you’re a good friend, and that was kind of freaking crazy of me. But my point is that you’ve also been there for me. You always had my back, and even if I didn’t want to hear what you had to say—you told me. Because that’s what friends do.”
This little speech was so unlike Ashlyn, I couldn’t help myself for leaning in towards her, studying her like a science experiment.
“You have feelings for Cohen,” she continued. “Real feelings. And I know you don’t want to, but you need to let yourself properly grieve Paul and move on, knowing that he’d want you to be happy. If he was as great as you say, he’d probably even like you ending up with a guy like Cohen.”
Realization slammed into my chest. She was right. How did I not see that before? It came at me with a rush of stunning clarity. Paul would hate what I’d been doing. Too much wine and too much attitude. One night stands. Nameless guys for the sake of forgetting. I cringed when I thought about my affair with Stu.
Crap. Ashlyn was right. Too bad it wasn’t going to be that simple.
“Go see him, sweetie. Talk to him, let him in.”
“There’s something else though.” I looked down, fidgeting nervously with the throw pillow on my lap.
I took the box from her hands and lifted the velvet lining from the bottom. I hadn’t opened this box in many years, but still my fingers knew the exact corner to lift to ease the fabric away. I freed the photograph nestled at the bottom of the box and handed it to Ashlyn.
She studied it with a crinkled brow before speaking. “This is an ultrasound photo.” Her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, Liz.” She flung her arms around me, squeezing me tight, letting me weep softly into her hair.
“I was sixteen weeks along when I lost Paul, and then a week later, I lost the baby too.” I swallowed the lump in my throat, then took the picture from her and returned it to the box, safely tucking it underneath the velvet fabric. “He’d been hoping for a little girl—he wanted her to look exactly like me.” The memory brought a small smile to my lips. I couldn’t believe it’d been five years since I’d been pregnant. I could still remember the exact way I felt—terrified and then overjoyed all in the blink of an eye. I remembered Paul’s eyes turning misty when I told him the news, and him crushing me to his body in a hug before quickly pulling away to be sure he didn’t squeeze me too tight and hurt the baby. I recalled the achy soreness in my br**sts, the nausea that lasted all day, and my cravings for high protein foods like steak that I’d never been fond of before.
“Liz?” Ashlyn interrupted my private stroll down memory lane. I’d been swept away again, but I knew I needed to finish the story.
“I had to undergo a procedure…and they discovered…” I stopped myself and took a deep breath, my voice growing shaky. “My body couldn’t handle the shock of losing Paul. So not only did I lose him, and then the baby, but I lost my ability to carry another baby, too.”
“Oh honey.” She stroked my hair back from my face lovingly.
“That’s why I didn’t waste my time on nice guys who would want more. I don’t have that in me to give to someone again—figuratively and literally.”
“Shh,” she shushed me, brushing her fingers through my hair.
“Cohen will want a family someday. And a wife with a functioning uterus.” I bit my lip. “I thought going for the younger guys—the undergrads—was safe. They’re not usually thinking ahead about that kind of stuff. But leave it to me to attract the world’s most perfect male and have him turn out to be all responsible and focused on his future Mrs. Right.” I rolled my eyes, trying to lighten the situation.
Ashlyn remained quiet, her expression thoughtful.
I carried the box back to my bedroom and instead of hiding it in my closet, where I usually kept it, I set it on my night table. I patted the top of it before going back to Ashlyn. I was glad I had told her, even if it had been hard to talk through. I grabbed some tissues and returned to the living room.
Ashlyn was still on the sofa, her legs tucked underneath her, and her face serious. “I know you feel something for him. And Cohen has surprised us both at every turn. Maybe he’ll surprise you again. I know that he feels strongly for you. Give him a chance, Liz.”