4: 4
I picked up the iPad and opened Cliff Delgado's social media feed.
The tenth lucky day I checked, he was in Iceland with Hildegarde, watching the northern lights. Hidden from me only.
The ninth lucky day, he was with Hildegarde in the Swiss Alps, admiring the cherry blossoms and soaking in the hot springs. Hidden from me only.
The eighth lucky day, he was at the Grand Canyon with Hildegarde on some pilgrimage tour. Hidden from me only.
……
I curled up like an infant and sobbed out loud on the bed.
There was nowhere to put all the bitterness inside me, and I couldn't stop the thought from coming,
maybe it would be better to go be with my parents, who'd died so young, then I wouldn't have to hurt like this anymore.
Then my belly moved, all at once, and pulled me back to reality.
I never imagined the baby's first kick, the one I'd waited so long for, would finally come now.
In the moment I hurt the most and most wanted to sink under, something gently held me up.
I pulled myself together, gathered my documents and my paintings, then ran out of strength and lay down.
Maybe it was the strain of feeling too much. That night, I ran a high fever.
In my daze I drifted back to how we used to be.
Hildegarde and I were born to be each other's opposites.
She was beautiful and outgoing, the campus goddess everyone chased after, top of the class.
I was plain and quiet, and not much of a student, only getting into a decent college on the strength of a little talent for painting in high school.
Yet two people as different as we were somehow became the best of friends.
I listened while she poured out the misery of her parents fighting, coming to blows. She stood up for me when other kids picked on the girl with no mom or dad.
That was how we leaned on each other through so many years.
Wherever she was, no one could see me.
Just when I'd gotten used to sitting in the audience and clapping for her, Cliff Delgado appeared.
He cupped my face in his hands, all his attention on me.
"No matter how dazzling the moon is, a star can still shine with its own light."
"I just think our little Star is so lovely."
Because of that one sentence, all these years I was willing to live myself into a tree.
To put down roots for him.
Clumsily learning to have everything ready for him, hoping only for the times he might pause and stay a while.
But in the end, the moment the moon came out, the stars vanished.
The next day when I woke, Cliff Delgado and Hildegarde were already home.
My head was still hot and aching, so I didn't get up.
Hildegarde laughed and flung my blanket off me. "You used to just be dumb. Now you're dumb and lazy."
Cliff slid an arm around her waist, familiar. "Right, from now on let's call her our lazy little dumb-pig."
I pressed a hand to my belly and suddenly didn't want to play along with them anymore.
"Cliff Delgado, let's get a divorce."
Cliff's eyes went wide with disbelief.
"You want a divorce over being called a lazy little dumb-pig?"
"Did being pregnant turn your brain to mush?"
Hildegarde smoothed it over. "Pregnant women get moody. Cut her some slack."
"Come with me to get my nails done first, let little Star calm down on her own."
There it was again. She sounded like she was taking my side, but really she was tossing me aside.
Cliff nodded and agreed without a second thought.
But something made me want to try one last time. I looked up and caught his sleeve.
"Cliff Delgado, don't go. My stomach hurts."
Cliff pried my fingers off one by one.
"Quit the act! Trying to use this trick to twist me around again? Dream on!"
He wrapped an arm around Hildegarde and turned to leave without hesitation.
No one noticed I'd been running a fever the whole time. No one noticed I'd packed up my paintings.
I gave a small, bitter laugh and sat there on the bed a long while.
The cramping in my belly suddenly sharpened. I reached down, and my hand came away covered in blood.
On instinct I called Cliff Delgado, only to find he'd blocked me again.
Every time things went sour, Cliff would block me and wait for me to come begging before he'd let me off the blocklist.
But this time I wasn't going to beg.
With shaking hands I dialed 911, and while I waited, the iPad screen lit up.
A message in the group chat named "Family of Three."
"Hildegarde: Then let's do the destination wedding in Aspen, family only, don't set little Star off."
"Cliff Delgado: Fine, we leave today. She thinks the baby lets her act up. I won't indulge that nasty little habit of hers."
"Carla: Hildegarde really is the accomplished, sensible one. If only you were my daughter-in-law."
The ambulance arrived and the medics carefully lifted me onto a stretcher, the doctor's voice grave.
"She's bleeding heavily, this is dangerous, get her to the hospital fast."
A message alert came in on my phone. Cliff, of all things, offering me a way out.
"Erica Simmons, I just got called for a flight, I'll be away half a month. Pack my bags, I'll come home this afternoon to grab them."
But I didn't fire back a reply the second he texted, the way I always used to.
I just held onto the rail of the stretcher and begged the doctor to bring along the documents and paintings I'd packed.
After they finished stabilizing me at the hospital, Cliff called that afternoon.
"What's kept you so busy you can't answer the messaging app? You didn't even pack my bags. Being pregnant's gone to your head, is that it?"
I stared at the IV line taped to my hand and answered calmly. "I ran a high fever all night. I was busy having a miscarriage."
