Chapter 2: You Scared Her
Natalie's POV
Marcus comes back after midnight. I'm lying in bed when I hear his key in the lock. He pushes open the bedroom door and glances at me.
"How are you feeling?"
"Fine."
He nods and walks to the closet. Pulls out a travel bag and starts stuffing shirts and suits inside.
"Something came up at work. I need to go out of town tomorrow. Probably be gone a week."
His back is to me as he talks.
"Just rest at home. Call me if you need anything."
I don't answer. He turns around and looks at me. Must think I'm being too quiet.
"What's wrong? You feeling sick?"
"No," I say.
He relaxes and goes back to packing. Ten minutes later, he leaves the bedroom. I hear him on the phone in the living room. His voice is low, but I can make it out clearly enough.
"I'll be there tomorrow."
When I wake up, Marcus is already gone. There's a note on the nightstand.
"Went out of town. Food in the fridge. Get some rest."
The handwriting is messy, like he was in a rush. I get up to use the bathroom. A sharp pain shoots through my abdomen. When I stand, I feel something wet. I look down. There's a dark stain spreading across my pajama pants.
I lean against the wall and make my way to the bathroom. The face in the mirror is pale. Blood runs down my legs and drips onto the tile floor. I call the clinic. The nurse asks a few questions, then says, "You need to come in right away. There might be retained tissue."
I change my pants and grab my car keys.
The drive to the clinic takes me across town. At a red light, I see that apartment building. The place Marcus said he's been "recovering" at. I should just drive past. But something makes me pull over and park. I walk into the building. Marcus mentioned the apartment number once. I stand at the door. Inside, a baby is crying.
I ring the doorbell. A few seconds later, the door opens. A young woman stands there with a baby wrapped in a blue blanket in her arms. She sees me and freezes.
"I'm looking for Marcus."
Her expression flickers with panic.
"He's... he's not here."
That's when Marcus walks out from the living room. He's holding a bottle. When he sees me, his face goes white. He just stands there, frozen. Steam is still rising from the milk in the bottle.
"Natalie?"
My name comes out tight. Then he moves fast, practically dragging me into the hallway. The door shuts behind us. He lowers his voice.
"What are you doing here?"
I look at him.
"I'm bleeding. Need to go back to the clinic. I was driving past."
He lets go of my arm and steps back.
"She's my cousin. From out of state."
He's talking fast.
"Her husband's overseas. I'm just helping out for a few days."
I don't say anything. The door opens a crack. The woman leans out, her face carefully concerned.
"Mrs. Grant, how are you feeling? I heard you just had surgery."
Her voice is soft.
"Women need to take care of themselves after something like that. Make sure you rest."
I look at her. She's young, fair-skinned, wearing soft loungewear.
"How old is the baby?"
She hesitates.
"Five days."
I nod and turn toward the elevator. Marcus grabs my arm.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
His tone has changed. Now there's anger in it.
"My cousin just had a baby. What are you trying to do?"
I pull my arm free.
"I need to get to my appointment."
The doctor has me lie down on the exam table. Cold instruments probe inside. She stares at the screen, frowning.
"You're not healing well."
She turns to look at me.
"We need to do another procedure."
My fingers grip the sheet.
"And the damage this time is pretty severe."
The doctor pulls off her gloves.
"Getting pregnant again might be difficult."
I sit up.
"How difficult?"
She pauses.
"It might take many tries. Or it might..."
The rest gets lost in the roar of blood in my ears. I don't catch it. Don't want to catch it. The surgery is scheduled for tomorrow morning. I sign the forms and walk out. It's already dark outside.
That night Marcus calls. His voice is hard.
"Did you do that on purpose today?"
I don't answer.
"You scared her. Now she can't even produce milk properly."
His tone is all accusation.
"I was just driving past."
"You better not start imagining things."
He says.
"She really is my cousin. Just focus on taking care of yourself. Stop making up stories."
I hang up. The phone screen goes black. My face reflects back at me. Strange and tired.
The next afternoon, the doorbell rings. I open the door. That woman is standing there with the baby in her arms. She looks at me. There's something unmistakable in her eyes. Triumph.
"Mrs. Grant, can I come in for a bit?"
