It Can Only Get Better

Later that night, when everyone had gone home, I looked around my room. From the curtains to the bedclothes, to the carpet, to all the photos and posters on the wall, everything was still the same, and yet, I feel different. None of these superficial things matter. The only thing that really matters at this precise moment, is the loss of my baby. I know technically at 3 months it wasn’t quite a baby, more a ball of cells and nerves and impulses, but it was to me. My eyes fell on the reflection of the door in the mirror, and the silhouette of a man standing in it. I wiped the tears off my cheeks and turned around.
“I thought Lisa said you weren’t allowed out of bed.” He said, coming closer to me, and taking my hand.
“And I thought you were at home, talking things over with your parents.” I said, using all the will I had left to force a smile onto my face.
“You don’t have to pretend with me Soph, I know you do with everyone else, but with me it’s different. We’re going to be spending the rest of our lives with each other, so you don’t need to pretend.” He paused and led me to the bed. “Now, I know it’s not what you want to hear right now, but we will get through this. Okay?” he smiled, and I returned it, nodding slightly.

I got into bed, and pulled the covers up slightly, so I was comfortable. I looked up at him.
“Joey,” I paused as he met my gaze. “I know the baby wasn’t planned, and in a way some might see this as our ticket out, but, when I’m well enough, I was thinking…” I watched is expression, knowing that I shouldn’t have said anything, but he smiled.
“When you’re better darling, it would make me the happiest guy on the planet.” He leant down and hugged me, “but for now, get some rest. I’ll be back over first thing in the morning to see you.” He smiled, kissed my forehead and left to let me rest.