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Arabella

It gets worse at night. My entire being feels empty. My body, my heart, and my soul are deserted. No man’s land.

After slicking another coat of my dark red lipstick over my lips, I pull the strap of my silk slip up my arm. My breasts are still sore and big, a constant reminder of what I’ve lost. Of the life I should be living. Me, Christopher, and our little girl.

My baby.

The hollow ache in my chest burns, and the sting of my sorrow fills my eyes. Before I allow my tears to spill again, I take a long drag of my cigarette, holding it in until it numbs my head, threatening to suffocate me.

As I let it out, I snuff the half-finished smoke in the wet plughole, then throw the stub in the toilet before I head back into the bedroom.

“What are you up to, Bella?” Georgina asks me again. “I don’t understand why the fuck you’re hiding from him. Christopher will find you, and all this will be pointless.”

What does she know about what’s important? The only thing she’s ever had to worry about is keeping herself slim and her legs intact. The only thing she cares about is her career.

“What? Don’t look at me like that. I don’t want them knocking on my door. I don’t need that shit.”

“They don’t know I’m here.”

“Really? That’s what you’re telling yourself? Casper has never shown up at my door more than he is now. Last I heard Christopher was knocking Mum’s door down. I don’t want trouble at my door, Bella.”

“Maybe you should try being a tad less selfish. Try thinking about someone other than yourself.”

“I’m selfish?” Standing from where she’s sat at the vanity, she walks over to me.

Georgina has always been taller than me; she and Casper take after our father’s side of the family. They’re tall and lean. She has milky-white skin, and her dark hair has a coppery undertone that shines through in the summer.

Tucking her shoulder-length locks behind her ear, she stops in front of me, her chin tipping down so our eyes meet, so she’s looking down on me.

“I’m not the one that walked out on my marriage.”

My mouth dries with all the things I want to scream at her.

“Why are you running?” As I take a step backwards, her warm hand squeezes my shoulder. “You couldn’t wait to marry Christopher.”

“I fucked up.” And it doesn’t matter how much I want him or love him. I can’t go back to him until I’ve tried to make it as right as I can.

My husband deserves better. He deserves a wife who’s selfless enough to sacrifice her sanity for the safety of his child.

Her arms engulf me as she pulls me into her chest. Rocking me from side to side. Brushing my hair. “It’s not your fault. Early babies die all the time.”

She doesn’t understand.

“Maybe you need to see someone. Talk to someone…”

“Ummm…” Pulling away, I take a couple of steps back. With a deep breath, I remind myself…

She doesn’t know.

I keep telling myself that she’s different to me. Her aspirations are the opposite to mine. It wouldn’t matter if I poured out all the reasons she’s wrong, because her dream has never been to be a mother and a wife. Georgina has never contemplated dropping her identity to bolster another person’s ambitions.

Not like me.

Christopher has so much ahead of him, beyond all of his aspirations. He’s got the ambitions of others on his head. He wears them like a lead crown, but the truth is he doesn’t understand the weight he’ll take on. It doesn’t matter what our fathers tell him.

I was meant to help him carry the burden, but I got so caught up in my selfish whims that I’ve only made it heavier. I’ve made it gargantuan, and I don’t know how we’re going to shoulder it. How we’re meant to carry on. How he’s meant to forgive me.

Christopher has always been a we’ll-cross-the-bridge-when-we-get-to-it kind of guy. But some bridges have to be mended before they’re crossed. Some bridges are so burnt that you need to rebuild them from scratch.

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