Page 97 of Forever, Maybe
She dragged herself to the toilet, one fist pressed hard against her abdomen as though she could hold the pain in. Fresh, bright blood—not the dark-brown spotting of a period—streaked the bowl and stained the tissue when she wiped.
The pain was relentless, a crippling vice that left her doubled over in bed, crawling back and forth to the toilet. Each trip brought the same grim ritual: flushing away blood and clots, the pieces of what her body was letting go.
She phoned in sick, only just managing to get off the phone before another wave of pain hit her.
Afterwards, she sank onto the cold tile floor of the bathroom, her cheek pressed to the cool surface, seeking relief. Tears slid down her face, pooling in the grout lines. Mother Nature had done her work. The baby that was never meant to happen was gone, as if it had never been.
It was a blessing in disguise, she told herself, though the words felt hollow. At that moment, all she knew was the ache in her belly and the deeper, sharper ache in her chest.
By the time Danny came home that evening, it was done. She had called the hospital to cancel her appointment, explaining to the nurse what had happened. “You may still need a D&C,” the nurse had said, gently urging her to come in to ensure everything was complete. But Nell declined. She couldn’t face the sterile halls, the judgmental glances or the risk of seeing someone she knew.
Danny sat on the edge of their bed, his hand cradling hers. She blamed her pallor and lethargy on a stomach bug, brushing off his concern. “D’you want me to get you some Lucozade?” he asked, his brow furrowed with worry.
When she shook her head, his gaze dropped, shame carving deep lines into his face.
“Nell, we’ve no’ had a proper holiday in years. Would you want to go somewhere in September? I was thinking mebbe Italy, or Spain? For a week or two? The shops and the vans can manage without us. I know I haven’t been good at taking time off, even after what I promised you in July. I’m sorry. Forgive me, sweetheart.”
Each word hit like a blow. She welcomed the pain—it was exactly what she deserved.
“There’s nothing to forgive,” she said hoarsely. “We’ll go in January. That’s a quieter time for you. And I’ve got the exhibition to get ready for.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
When he kissed her knuckles, she flinched inwardly, his tenderness more than she could bear.
He climbed into bed beside her, curling his body around hers. One heavy arm draped protectively over her torso, his presence solid and warm. She stared up at the ceiling, her mind churning with the weight of the secret she would carry alone.
Confession was a selfish act, she decided. This was her punishment.
And so, she buried it.
Chapter forty-one
July2016
“Look who I ran into!” Danny announced, gesturing at the woman next to him, who was still regarding Nell as a python might a baby goat. “See, there are other folks our age out on a Thursday night!”
“Hi… Jennifer,” Nell murmured weakly.
Jennifer’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. If anything, it sharpened the edges of her face, all teeth and no warmth. She scraped a chair noisily across the floor and sat down opposite Nell, the force of her presence oppressive, her breath practically 100 per cent-proof.
How on earth had she failed to recognise Jennifer Frazer when they bumped into her in the park, Nell asked herself. Sure, it had been years, and Jennifer—or rather, Jenny Curtice as she’d been back then—looked different now. The extra weight was gone, the mousy-brown hair traded for a sleek, polished blonde style, but her eyes and build were unmistakable. And her old penchant for caked-on makeup? Still alive and well.
Those times she used to pick Jamie up from his house for work. Now and then, his wife would follow him out the front door, down the short garden path to where Nell waited in her Fiat 500. She often hurled insults as she stalked after him, her eyes full of fury—darting to Nell with a look that seemed to sayI see you.As if she already knew Nell would one day be the woman her husband betrayed her with.
“Can I get you a drink?” Danny asked, gesturing toward the bar behind him.
“No,” Jennifer said briskly. “I need to tell you something.”
“Jennifer, please… don’t,” Nell murmured.
Danny’s gaze bounced between the two women, his confusion written all over his face.
Jennifer turned to him, eyes narrowing. “Your wife and I have something in common. So do you, come to think of it. Jamie Curtice. Ring any bells?”
The ice in Nell’s core spread like frostbite. She couldn’t breathe. Danny frowned, his forehead crinkling. Jamie Curtice. The name floated in the air between them, meaningless to him. Names were not his forte.
