22. Evie

Chapter 22

Evie

I closed myself inside a bathroom stall and hung my head into the toilet. Every time the director's words telling us the adoption was dead echoed in my brain, my stomach clenched, and I heaved.

My heart ached, not wanting to believe it was really over, but my head knew I had fucked up, and there was no coming back from what I'd done.

There was a knock on the external door leading to the hallway in the office building. It creaked open on squeaky hinges, and I heard Jenner's voice call out, "If there's anyone in there, fair warning, I'm coming in to get my wife."

When no one answered, he pushed inside.

"Evie, honey?" His steps stopped on the other side of the stall. "Can you open the door?"

Swallowing against the bile rising in my throat, I let out a groan.

"I'll lay on my belly and crawl underneath if I have to. Dirty bathroom floor or not. Nothing is going to stop me from getting to you." He sighed, and a thud sounded high on the stall door. I could picture him dropping his forehead against it. "Let me in, baby."

Baby.

A sob broke free from my chest. I wasn't sure I'd ever be able to hear him call me that again without feeling like a knife was slicing my heart wide open. Because there would be no baby for us. And it was all my fault.

"I'm so fucking sorry," Jenner whispered, barely loud enough to be heard over the sound of me openly weeping.

Weakly, I reached a hand out to flush the toilet, watching the water swirl in the bowl before disappearing, just like my dreams. I would never get to hold that baby girl in my arms, never get to tell her how much I already loved her, never get to be there for her when she thought the world was ending like mine was now.

Leaning back against the wall, I flicked the lock, and the door burst open, revealing a distraught Jenner.

He took one look at my tear-streaked face and closed his eyes, pain lacing his words. "Oh, Evie."

How could I live with myself knowing that I'd done this to him? That I was the one dragging him down? Again.

It was more than any single person should have to bear.

Turning on his heel, he moved to the sink, and the sound of running water filled the room. When it stopped, Jenner reappeared, dropping to his knees before pulling me into his arms. The rough pads of his fingertips grazed my neck as he swept my hair to the side before placing a damp paper towel over my clammy skin.

"I've got you," he whispered into my hair.

I was a mess, and he deserved someone better, someone stronger. But I'd made Jenner a promise—I wasn't leaving again. Truthfully, with a broken heart, I simply didn't have the strength, even if that's what I wanted, which I didn't.

But it didn't stop me from feeling guilty that we'd ended up right back in the same place after all these years. With me broken and him stuck taking care of me.

For days, I lay in bed, practically in a catatonic state, staring at a wall in the master suite as the minutes ticked by, forced to relive the worst moment of my life.

The only time Jenner left me was to go the rink when he needed to for practice or games. I knew he was suffering, too, but I didn't have the capacity to see beyond myself at the moment.

Life felt meaningless. I mean, what was the point?

Some might argue that I was loved by a man utterly devoted to me and condemn my selfishness. Hell, if my head weren't so fucked up, I would probably agree with them. Jenner was everything a girl could want, but I'd had my heart set on this beautiful picture of a family that would never come to be.

His face appeared before me one day, and he brushed away the tangled strands of blonde hair that had fallen into my eyes. "Hey." I didn't respond. "As much as I hate to leave you like this, the team is headed on the road. It's only a couple of days, over to Detroit and Pittsburgh. Dakota's gonna pop over and check on you while I'm gone." Jenner sighed. "And when I get back, I think we need to discuss getting you some help. I love you too much to see you like this, Evie. We'll figure this whole thing out, I promise."

I only blinked at him in response.

I didn't need help. I needed our baby girl.

Jenner tried calling while he was gone, but I declined every single attempt.

What was there to say to each other? He'd warned me from the start that this was a terrible idea—lying about our marital status—but being the good guy he was, he'd gone along with it anyway. And that's why I'd come back; I'd known he couldn't tell me no. The one time he had, I'd left him.

He'd kept his word to have Dakota stop by to check on me, but I couldn't force myself out of bed. Using the app on my phone connected to the doorbell camera, I told her I wasn't in the mood for visitors. But that didn't stop her from trying to bring me food twice a day.

I felt empty and hollow, and my heart ached.

I couldn't sleep because, every time I closed my eyes, I was forced to relive the moment when we were told it was over—that we would never be parents.

For hours a day, I simply stared at the lock screen on my phone. It featured an ultrasound picture of that beautiful baby girl we'd thought for a short time would be ours forever.

When my battery died, I didn't bother getting up to recharge it, deciding that it was time to let go. Obsessing over what would never come to be would only serve to drive me insane.

On the bright side, that meant I didn't have to feel like a selfish bitch when Jenner called and I didn't answer.

Why would he still want to be with me after all I'd done? I had thrown his life into chaos more than once, and instead of running screaming, he chose to double down, time after time.

I couldn't give him a baby, and now he'd have to deal with my mental health issues. I was some prize, that's for sure.

The doorbell rang, and I groaned. It was likely Dakota with a dinner drop attempt, but I couldn't send her away without my phone. And since that was what she'd come to expect, if I didn't answer at all, she would worry, call Jenner, and he'd send in the cavalry—which, in this case, meant my mom. That was the last thing I needed to deal with right now.

Mentally preparing to haul my ass out of bed, I took a deep breath. My nose wrinkled, catching a whiff of my been-in-bed-for-a-week-and-haven't-showered smell. Maybe that would be enough to scare Dakota away, and she wouldn't come back. I mean, a girl could hope.

Pushing up on my elbows, I swung my legs over the edge of the mattress. My vision blurred when I sat up, but a quick shake of my head cleared it.

You can do this. Get up, tell her, "Thanks, but no thanks," and then you can get back in bed.

My feet touched the cool wood floor, and I stood. I was steady for the first two steps, but then the room began to spin, and I faltered, reaching blindly for something to stabilize me. I caught nothing but air as darkness crept into the corners of my vision.

Vaguely aware that I was falling, I felt no pain as unconsciousness pulled me under.