Page 3 of When We Collide

“Why not?” I tip my head and meet his gaze. “There is nothing keeping me here anymore, Dean.”

“That’s not true, Jeyla and you know it.” Dean replies, pressing his lips to my temple. I will everything in me to just feel his lips against my flesh but all I feel is a slight warmth against the spot his lips touch. “You have something bigger than the both of us keeping you here. You have a little piece of me growing inside of you. If that isn’t enough reason to hold onto life, I don’t know what is.”

“It’s just one more thing I’m going to wind up losing, Dean. The doctors are trying to convince me to terminate, because the chances of me carrying the baby to full term are pretty much non-existent and I could die in the process. I’m scared—not of dying—but I can’t take another loss, not after the last time and losing you. I’m barely hanging on as it is and if I lose this baby which is the last thing I have left of you, it will finish me.”

“Stop thinking like that,” he whispers urgently. I can feel the tremors of emotion in his voice, matching the ones coursing through my own body. “You're not alone, JJ. You have a whole army of people who love and support you. And you are so much stronger than you realize. Whatever comes next, you'll find a way to survive it.” The words sink into my soul like a balm for my fears, bringing a glimmer of hope to the darkness consuming me. “Your life doesn’t end with mine.”

“That’s easy for you to say, Dean. You’re not the one left behind to endure all this grief.”

“You think I’m not mourning, JJ?” Dean spins me so I can face him. I stare up into his eyes and the ache inside my chest expands. “I wasn’t ready to leave you.”

Tears gather in my eyes and roll down my cheeks. “Then why did you?”

Dean smiles and presses his forehead to mine. “If I had a choice, I would always chooseyou, Jeyla Jenkins.”

“I hate you for leaving me with a reason to live on without you, Lieutenant.”

“I know you do, baby girl.” Dean sighs brushing his nose against mine. “But it’s time to go back home. I don’t want you out here all by yourself.” When I look up and meet his gaze, I don’t knowwhat he sees, but he nods back at me reassuringly. “Don’t be scared, Angel, I’m not going anywhere. Even in the moments you can’t see me, I’m by your side. Okay?”

I’m sure to anyone looking in I seem like a lunatic talking to herself, but I couldn’t care less. Their opinions hold no weight compared to the comfort I find in my own thoughts when he’s around. Dean may no longer exist in the physical world, but in my heart and thoughts, he is very much alive. I can't let go of him, no matter how insane or delusional it may seem on the outside.

Four monthsafter Dean’s death.

“What are you thinking?”

I look over at Oz who steps to stand beside me as we examine the walls in what is supposed to be the nursery for the baby. I sigh, “I’m thinking this is stupid, Oskie.”

Oscar frowns and turns his gaze to look over at me. “What do you mean? You don’t like the yellow?”

“No, it’s not the colour. Look at me.” I reply, gesturing to myself, and Oscar’s frown deepens. “I’m sick, Oz. I barely have the energy to stand on my own two legs for longer than ten minutes at a time. The bigger this baby grows the weaker I’m becoming.We’re being foolish in thinking this baby and I are going to make it through this to even use the damn nursery.”

A forlorn expression descends upon Oscar’s face, and he shakes his head, turns to face me and takes hold of my shoulders, his deep brown eyes interlocking with mine.

“Jeyla, stop it. I don’t want to hear you talking like that. Both you and this baby are going to be just fine, do you hear me?” I shake my head and lower my gaze to the tiny baby bump the size of a football between us. I rest my hand on my stomach and the baby moves inside of me.

The past two months have taken a destructive toll on my body. I feel weaker with each passing minute, my weight plummeting at an alarming rate. Instead of the glowing appearance of a healthy expectant mother at seven months, I resemble a mere shell of a woman. Gaunt and bony, with only a tiny bump to remind me of the life growing inside me.

Despite my appearance, there is some comfort in knowing that the baby is flourishing, taking all the nutrients it needs from the scarce food I can keep down. But the strain of this pregnancy is tearing through my body, as it struggles to support the growing life inside me. Every day brings new challenges as I battle constant dizziness and a deep, dull ache in my pelvis that keeps me up at night and intensifies as my belly swells with the stretching and expanding baby.

Despite my parents' and doctors' persistent pleas, I can’t bring myself to terminate this pregnancy. They warn of the potential harm it may cause my body, but I am determined to keep this child. Even if it means sacrificing my own life in the process, I cannot bear to part with the only remaining piece of Dean that I have. Every kick and flutter in my stomach serves as a reminderof his love and presence in my life. No matter what may come, I will hold onto this precious gift until my last breath.

My only wish is that it didn’t have to be like this. This should be a place of excitement and anticipation, but instead it feels haunted by what could have been. I should be filled with joy at the prospect of being a mother, eagerly planning for our baby's arrival; not waking up each day in fear, wondering if it’s the day our baby will leave me, too.

Dean and I should be decorating the nursery together, choosing the crib our baby would have slept in. We should be fighting over what name to choose for our little nugget.

This is supposed to be a joyous moment for us. This is our miracle baby. And yet I’m standing here in our unborn child’s nursery with Dean’s older brother when it should be him.

It should be him.

“One step at a time, remember? All you need to do is pick the colour and I’ll take care of the rest, Jey.” Oz adds, his thumb gently stroking my shoulder while he looks down at me.

I shake my head, my vision blurring with a fresh batch of tears when I raise my eyes to meet his. The lump in my throat thickens and my voice wavers as I whisper, “I can’t,” before breaking away from his hold, walking out of the nursery and back into my bedroom. As soon as the door closes behind me, I lean against it for support and breakdown in tears.

Later that night I sit on my bed clutching a DVD in my hand. I’ve been putting off watching this ever since it was delivered three months ago. It’s the DVD of mine and Dean’s wedding. After I received it in the post I couldn’t bear to watch it, so I hid it in a box in my wardrobe.

Earlier today when I went to grab a jumper from my wardrobe the box toppled over and the DVD fell out and landed at my feet. That was three hours ago. I’ve been sitting here staring at the photo of us smiling lovingly at one another on the plastic cover trying to gather up the courage to watch it. Lex hops up on my bed and lays down beside me, resting his head on my knee and staring up at me with those beautiful caramel eyes of his.

“What do you think Lex, shall we watch it?” I ask, scratching the back of his head and he whines in response. Dean and I promised to watch this together after he got back from his deployment. It still doesn’t feel right to watch it without him, and I’m not even sure if I’ll have the strength to watch it all without breaking down. How can I bear to see how happy we were promising each other forever when forever only lasted a couple of months for us.

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