Page 66 of The Phyre that Burns
“Phyre, I?—”
He shot to his feet and shouted so loud, I swore the house shook.
“Answer the fucking question!”
“Okay, okay! Yes. I was pregnant once, but?—”
“When?”
“What?”
“When were you pregnant?”
“Baby, let me?—”
“Ginae, I’m doing my best not to lose it. I don’t want to hear shit but the answers to my questions. When were you pregnant?”
“I wanted to tell you, but?—”
“You aborted my baby? You killed my fucking baby? How could you?”
“I didn’t?—”
“You need to leave.”
“What?”
“I need you to go.”
“Phyre, let me explain.”
“There’s nothing you can say that will make me understand how you could kill my baby, . . . our baby, Ginae. I need you to go.”
He was hell bent on believing I’d had an abortion, and since he refused to hear me out, I’d let him believe what he wanted, . . . for now. With tears in my eyes and running down my face, I left him in the family room.
He was still standing, and as I walked past him, I hoped he’d grab me, wrap his arms around me, and give me a chance to explain. Instead, he looked at me with hate in his eyes and let me walk away.
When I made it to his bedroom, I hurriedly stuffed as many of my belongings as I could into two suitcases. After booking a room at Black Elm Suites, I requested a ride on the rideshare app. Before going outside to wait, I hung the keys to the truck and condo on the key holder he had hanging near the garage entrance.
I dragged my two suitcases outside just as the driver pulled up. We put them in the trunk, but something in me wouldn’t let me leave with Phyre thinking I’d had an abortion. After asking her to give me a minute, I went back inside and straight to the family room, where I found him back in his recliner, staring at the ceiling.
“I had a miscarriage, you asshole.”
I didn’t stick around long enough to see his reaction, but as the driver pulled away from the curb, I saw him in front of the house. I was sure he’d be calling me in a matter of minutes, so I blocked his number.
Twenty minutes later, I arrived at the suites. Somehow, I managed to keep it together until the moment I was inside my room. With a suitcase on either side of me, my back fell against the door, and I slid to the floor as tears fell from my eyes.
The last time I’d cried this way, Phyre was the reason for my pain, and all these years later, he was back to administer another dose of heartbreak. I wasn’t sure who or what caused him to ask those questions, but the source didn’t matter. What matteredwas that he didn’t allow me to give him the facts regarding the situation.
Imagine going from finding out the man I was in love with was engaged, to finding out I was carrying his child, to then finding out the child had no heartbeat, all in the span of a few days. If that wasn’t enough, I had to decide if I wanted to continue carrying the baby and wait for it to expel itself, or have a procedure done to remove it.
The only people who knew about my miscarriage were my parents, brother, and Devyn, and the only way Phyre would know was if one of them told him. I trusted them with my life, and they would never betray me in such a way.
I probably sat on the floor for thirty minutes, replaying the events from the night and wishing I could turn back the hands of time. When I finally got to my feet, I secured the door and made my way to the bed, not bothering to bring the suitcases with me.
After slipping off my shoes, I pulled the blankets back, crawled into bed, and cried myself to sleep. My ringing phone awakened me some time later. I didn’t bother checking to see who it was before I answered it.
“What?” I answered, not hiding my irritation.
