Shake the Glitter Off

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“You were right,” Bill announces quietly, staring off to the right and not at me. He’s rocking back and forth on the soles of his feet and he keeps chewing on his bottom lip, like he’s trying to control himself.

My heart’s stopped thundering in my chest and I’m gaping up at him helplessly, wordlessly twisting the blankets that lay across my legs. I can’t quite believe what’s just come out of his mouth. I had been mentally preparing myself for yet another intense argument; him admitting fault was the last thing I expected.

“I don’t know anything about kids,” Bill continues, running his hands through his hair and sighing as he shakes his head. “And I know that you don’t either. I was caught up in the romance of everything. You know,” He finally looks me in the eye and offers me a shaky smile. “Two young people meet and fall madly in love and then they have a baby together and everything works out perfectly in the end for them. I was wishing that that would be us, I guess.”

“That can still be us, Bill.” I croak attractively, my voice hoarse and trembling. “We can still have our happy ending. It just doesn’t have to involve—“

“I know,” He shakes his head again and starts to pace at the foot of the bed, pulling agitatedly at his hoodie. “And I do want that to be us. Every time I thought about the babies, I realized that I pictured them as perfect, well-behaved and just… I didn’t take the reality of them into account. And babies cry a lot,” He looks up at me so seriously that I want to laugh. It’s like he’s only just now realizing what having a baby entails. “I’m 21 and you’re 20; we’re at the top of our careers and-and we’re clueless.”

I rub at my nose with the cuff of my long-sleeved shirt, as if that would ward off the tears that are forming on the brim of my eyelids. Words have escaped me at this point, I have no idea what to say to him. Everything I wanted to say to him was said outside.

“Tomi drove me around and we talked,” He admits quietly, sitting down on the edge of the bed and looking at me closely. “We talked about what would happen to Tokio Hotel if we kept the twins.”

“And?” I ask softly, unconsciously placing a hand over my stomach, like I would be able to shield the babies from hearing their father’s words.

Bill presses his lips together tightly and then sighs, rubbing at his forehead tiredly. “I’d have to take time off. I don’t know when we’d be able to go back into the studio. I have a contract with the record label and if they find me to be in breach of the contract, I could be sued and I would lose pretty much everything. That’s worst case scenario, of course.”

“Best case?” I question, staring down at the comforter that’s pulled loosely around my body. I can’t bring myself to look him in the eye. Guilt is pressing down all around me, crushing me and suffocating me. If I hadn’t gotten pregnant in the first place, neither one of us would be in this horrid situation.

“Best case is I get a few months off to help with the twins and then I have to go back to work. It would mean leaving you and them,” He motions at my stomach weakly. “It would put so much stress and pressure on you and I don’t want to do that. I want to be there; I don’t want to miss anything.”

I nod slowly, trying to take deep, even breaths to keep myself calm. It seems like these days all I do is either cry, sleep, or eat and I was tired of doing it. I’m getting on my own nerves; I can’t even begin to imagine how irritating I must be for everyone else in the house to deal with.

“And then there’s the issue of my fans,” Bill carries on, moving forward like he was going down a detailed list in his head of all of the points and concerns he’d come up with on his drive around Berlin with his brother. “How would they react? Would you be safe? Would the babies be safe? Can I live with myself if I knowingly brought them into this and something happened to them because of me and my fame? I couldn’t even—couldn’t fathom the overwhelming guilt if something bad happened to you because a deranged fan got a hold of you.”

“Security,” I begin, trying to stop himself from heaping all of the blame on his shoulders. I was in this just as much as he was and I would be able to take care of myself, despite what he may think. I’m not about to go gallivanting about, proclaiming the fact that I was pregnant with his children.

“I know, but people make mistakes and they slip up. And then there’s consequences—I know it’s a really depressing, twisted way of thinking, but I can’t stop myself from going down that path in my head. I’m terrified, Lily.”

I reach out and touch his knuckles lightly, afraid that he was going to reject me. But he flips his hand over and tangles our fingers together tightly, squeezing my hand. “I know you are. I’m scared too, Bill. This whole thing is surreal.”

“So it leaves us with one other option,” Bill whispers, swallowing thickly. I watch his Adam’s apple bob up and down before he begins to speak again. “We give them up. It seems to solve all of our problems—we get to continue with our lives and our careers, like nothing ever happened and the twins get to lead normal lives with normal parents. And they’ll be safe and happy and loved and cared for—“ His voice breaks off and he pulls his hands away from me, covering his face like he’s ashamed.

A wounded cry slips out before I push the blankets away as I crawl towards him, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him close. “Don’t cry,” I whisper, touching his face lightly and rocking us back and forth gently. “Please don’t cry.”

“I’m sorry,” He apologizes blindly, moving his arms around my waist and pulling me closer. “I just keep picturing the twins in my head and they keep asking me why I didn’t love them, why I didn’t fight harder to keep them so we could be a happy family together. I feel so fucking guilty—“

“Don’t,” I plead, my tears slipping down my cheeks and landing on his shirt. “Don’t feel guilty.”

His heart is thundering wildly in his chest; I can feel it in my own chest. He’s trying so hard to not cry, but I can see the way his eyes darken and then glisten with wetness. His grip on me is so tight, like he’s petrified that letting go will ruin everything.

“I’m not a bad person for thinking like this,” He whispers, his entire body trembling against my own. “I’m not selfish for giving them up; I’m doing it so that they’ll have a better life.”

“I know we are,” I croon, running my hands through his hair and pressing a kiss to the crown of his head. “We’re not evil people, Bill. Please stop blaming yourself.”

“I can’t help it,” He admits brokenly, pulling away slightly and kneading the palms of his hands into his eye sockets. “When you first said this outside, I was angry and I was upset. I was hurting. I couldn’t believe that you were considering giving up our kids. I love them already and it’s only been a couple of weeks.”

“I know,” My voice is low, so quiet that I don’t think he even heard me—he’s too busy picking through all of his own thoughts and voicing his fears and concerns.

He sighs again, running his hand down his face and staring down at the carpet. “But giving them up for adoption solves everything. It’s the perfect solution.”

“Except?” I prod him on, knowing that there is more to his sentence.

“Except I don’t know if I’ll ever not feel guilty,” He whispers softly. “I will always be asking myself ‘what if’? What if we kept them? What if I decided to man up and be a father?”

“I think it takes a strong man to raise a child,” I begin quietly, reaching out and touching his arm softly so he looks at me again. “But it takes an even stronger man to admit that he’s not ready. I think it shows that despite our ages, we’re mature and smart enough to know that we can’t give these babies the life that they deserve.”

Bill remains quiet, pressing his lips together and staring at the wall blankly as he thinks deeply. He’s sitting straight up, his hands clasped together tightly in his lap and his legs crossed childishly beneath him. He’s pensive, lost in thought as my words wash over him and I can’t read him and his thoughts. And that frightens me.

“If you want to be a part of their lives,” I begin slowly, unsure of his feelings on this subject. I shrug my shoulders and scratch at my arm absentmindedly. “We can have an open-adoption.”

His head swivels to me and he looks perplexed, his eyebrows knitting together and his lips turning down into a frown. It’s then that I realize that my words aren’t exactly German phrases, so Bill has no way of knowing what I mean.

“Open-adoption meaning we don’t raise the twins, we give them away to a couple who wants them. But we stay in contact with them and get updates and pictures and we could even arrange meetings—“

“No,” Bill shakes his head immediately. “I-I don’t want that. I don’t want to see other people raising our children.”

I nod understandingly. That had been my mind-set, as well. “So we have a closed-adoption. We scan through potential matches and we pick a couple who we think will do a good job and we hand the twins off the moment they’re born. And we never have to see them again and things go back to normal.” My stomach twists uncomfortably at my words and I’m a bit frightened at how level my voice is as I speak. I sound so calm and calculated, except my insides are a swarm of murky emotions and doubts.

“Are we really doing this?” Bill asks quietly, looking deep into my eyes.

I shrug, rubbing at my face again before I look back at him. “It seems like it’s the best option, doesn’t it?”

He nods sadly and touches his fingertips to his pale temples lightly, like he has a throbbing headache. “I guess so.”

“This probably isn’t much of a consolation to you now,” I know I’m walking on thin ice here by suggesting this now. But this thought has been comforting to me. I’m just not sure with as to how he’s going to react. “But if we are still together—me and you—in a few years when we’re both older and ready, we can try to have another baby that we could keep this time. I mean, we already know that we’re able to get pregnant,” I try to make a joke of the situation, but my voice breaks and my words end up in a choked sob.

Bill reaches across the bed and rests his hand on my thigh lightly, rubbing his thumb comfortingly in small circles. “I think I’m off of wanting children.”

“Forever?” I ask dubiously, watching him closely from under my eyelashes. For some reason, this strikes an uncomfortable chord inside of me and my heart begins to ache at the thought of Bill never wanting to have children again. All because of what’s happening to us now. All because of me. I’ve ruined him.

He nods his head slowly, a small smile on his face as he meets my gaze evenly. “For now, anyway. Maybe I’ll change my mind in a couple of years again; I don’t know. I’m just… done.”

“Alright,” I whisper, looking down at the lumps in the blankets where my legs are stretched out. I can’t bring myself to look him in the eye anymore, scared that my face will betray the crushing disappointment that’s washing over me.

We’re silent for a long time, both of us lost in our own thoughts. I know that one of us should say something to break the tension between us, but I can’t bring myself to force my mouth into moving. I’m afraid that the sob that’s caught in my throat will slip out the moment I part my lips and I don’t want Bill to feel any more guilty than he already does.

He can’t help how he feels and if he doesn’t want kids again after this, then I’ll just have to resign myself to that fate. Especially if I was still with him in a few years time.

Eventually Bill gets up and walks into his bathroom where I hear him start to undress and prepare himself for sleep. The shower starts up and when I hear the glass door slide back and shut, I lay back on the pillows and then turn onto my side, curling up into the fetal position.

It’s only then that I let the tears that are swimming across my eyes fall and they slip down my cheeks in rapid succession. I bury my face in my pillow to muffle the broken, wounded noises that are slipping out of my throat.

I don’t notice the shower shutting off and I don’t hear Bill coming out of the bathroom until he slips into the bed next to me, bringing the blankets up and over his bare legs. He exhales heavily, laying on his back and staring up at the ceiling.

I’m keenly aware of the massive space between us and it breaks my heart. I want to close the gap and lose myself in his arms. I want to know that I’m not alone. Because right now, all I feel is crippling waves of isolation and being completely and utterly alone.

I roll over onto my back and I’m startled to see Bill sitting up in bed and looking down at me concernedly. “What?” I croak, using my fingers to wipe away the tear tracks down my face.

“Don’t cry,” He requests quietly, reaching out and running the pad of his thumb across my eyelashes that are sticking together because of my tears. “Please don’t. This is the right thing to do.”

“So we’re really doing this?” I whisper, clutching the blankets closer to me. “We’re giving the twins up for adoption.”

Bill nods, laying down and wrapping his arms around my waist. I know he can feel the swollen bump between my hips, but neither one of us acknowledge it. “It’s the right thing to do. It’s the only thing we can do.”

“Okay,” I mumble childishly, scooting closer and wrapping my arms around him.

Things are quiet for a few moments before Bill breaks the silence. “Lily?”

“Bill,” I whisper, running my open palm across his chest under the sheets.

“I’m sorry we fought this evening,” He mutters, speaking slowly. “I’m sorry I ruined your birthday.”

“You didn’t ruin it,” I rush to assure him. “I had an amazing time today, aside from our fight. Today was perfect. It was the best twentieth birthday I could have asked for.”

He squeezes me lightly and things are quiet for a few seconds before he kisses my temple lightly. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” I reply, my voice getting stuck in my throat.

Bill seems satisfied after hearing those four words from me. We lay together until his breathing evens out and he slowly slips out of consciousness, the stress of today finally taking its toll. But I lay awake much later than that, mulling over everything that’s been overwhelming my mind lately.

When the sun’s brilliant rays start to light up the room and I hear the newspapers being delivered outside on the front porches, I admit defeat and close my aching eyes, one hand splayed protectively over my stomach and the other resting lightly on Bill’s chest.

We’re doing the right thing. We’re not evil for giving the twins up so easily. This is for everyone’s benefit. Maybe now that I don’t have my babies either, Cara will talk to me again.

And life can go back to the way it was before and everyone will be completely happy.

Except me.