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It’s gold and glistening bright under the cold fluorescent lights overhead. Like it’s mocking me. Winking at me one more time from beyond the grave. I touch my cheek, and even though it stings because the wound is still fresh, I let my touch linger. The same smooth curve of the metal is embedded in my face.
I have two choices now, I realize. I can either scream into the void…
Or I can fall into it.
I choose the latter. At least that one comes with blissful oblivion.
3
JUNE
“W-where am I?”
“You’re in the hospital, ma’am.” The voice is female, bright, and faux-cheery in a briskly professional sort of way. “You fainted.”
I honestly kind of wish I was disoriented. But as soon as she says that, I remember exactly where I was when I passed out. I remember exactly what I was doing. Or meant to be doing, anyway. I’m not sure I properly identified my boyfriend’s corpse before I hit the ground, though I doubt it matters much. I’m assuming that even New York’s finest can put those pieces together.
“I want to go home,” I whisper.
“The doctor has to clear you first, darling,” the voice explains. “He needs to make sure your little fall didn’t hurt the baby.”
I blink and crack one eye open. Maybe Iamdisoriented, after all. “What baby?”
“Your baby, dear,” the nurse says. Her face hangs over me like a gigantic sun I want to run from.
“I don’t have a baby.”
Her eyes go wide. They’re a pretty brown, aged prematurely with decades of sad stories passing through her ward. “Oh, dear… You didn’t know.”
“Didn’t know what?”
“I’m so sorry, darling. We thought you knew,” she says, her eyes softening instantly. Real sympathy, not the engineered kind. “You’re pregnant.”
4
JUNE
I’m pregnant.
I’m pregnant at a funeral.
I’m pregnant at my baby’s father’s funeral.
“Hello.”
A startled gasp escapes my lips. I’ve been jumpy for days now. You’d think that being in a crowded funeral hall would eliminate that feeling for a few hours, but apparently not.
“I’m sorry,” the man who spoke says from behind a smile that’s veering uncomfortably close to creepy. I frown, vaguely recognizing his spindly hunch and his distinctive beaked nose. I’m pretty sure I’ve been creeped out by that smile before. “I scared you.”
“No, it’s okay. I’m just… on edge.”
“Of course. This can’t be easy for you.”
He’s the first person to speak to me in twenty minutes, since Adrian’s old work colleagues all left. It was nice of them to show up, but it made me sad to realize that they came out of a sense of obligation rather than any real affection or lasting friendship.
“We’ve met before, haven’t we?” I ask, hoping he’s not offended by the fact that I can’t really remember him.
He smells of stale cigarettes and strong mint gum that’s failing to cover up the tobacco stench. “Yes, we have. Adrian introduced us at his last recital.”
