Love You Too: PART SIXTY ONE

-TIFFANY-

I was discharged the next morning, after briefly seeing my mother. She'd been supportive, and before she had to leave she seemed genuinely interested in my health.
We drove back in silence. The past day had been filled with a lot of silence, which just accentuated the wedge that had been driven between us, causing our relationship to falter.
"What are we doing about the wedding?" Nate finally spoke up, over the low hum of the engine.
"Up to you" I said, closing my eyes and enjoying the vibration the car made on my forehead when I rested it on the window.
"Well we have three choices: we can either have it on the 20th as planned, we can postpone it for a little while, or we can cancel it completely. Either way I think we need to make the decision soon"
He indicated left, and pulled into the underground parking just beneath our house.
"Well?" he said, briskly. "It's your choice"
"It's both of our choices. I don't want to cancel it"
"Me neither. Right, are we having it at the end of this month?"
"I think our relationship needs it" I said, getting out of the car.
"What does that mean?"
"I know you're being supportive, but I just feel like losing the baby has made us doubt being married. Let's face it, the only reason we were getting married was because of the baby, and now we don't have it, it seems like we have no reason to get married"
"We love each other. Isn't that a good enough reason?" he said, looking hurt.
"Yes of course. Maybe it's just the grief. I'm going to just go to bed"
"Why don't I come with you?" he said, chasing after me.
"I need to sleep. You can if you want but I'm going to just sleep"
"Can I at least have a kiss then?" he said, as I began the walk up the staircase.
"Maybe later" I said, shutting the bedroom door behind me and leaving him stranded at the bottom of the staircase.
As soon as I shut the door I began to cry. Secret tears flooding down my face, causing my body to go weak; forcing my knees onto the ground. I felt for my bump, which was still slightly present underneath my sweater. I continued to cry, feeling at where my baby used to lie, thinking about its growth and it's future until I killed it.
I bawled like a child, not caring who heard me. I knew Nate would run up any second, but I wanted him to know me well enough to leave me alone. I felt like we were both too emotionally exhausted to help each other anymore.
So I did what I always do when I'm sad, and I watched Breakfast at Tiffany's. I had to venture into my closet to find the disc, and as I was rooting around, I came across an unopened box. I knew exactly what was inside the box, but that didn't stop me opening it.
As I did, I began to regret it. Inside this box was everything I'd bought for the baby a week or so ago with Ellie and my mother. I picked out a few of the tiny baby clothes, enjoying their soft feel under my fingers, and cooing at their size. Part of my tears were from the beauty of these items, but the other part was inevitably caused by my sense of emptiness that I felt when I saw them. When I'd packed this box, I only anticipated opening it when the baby was born or when I was on my way to the hospital during labour. Little did I realise back then that I'd open it a lot sooner than I hoped.
At the bottom of the box were a few toys, a few stuffed animals, a mobile for above his/her crib, and a small jewellery box.
My mother had given it to me the day we went shopping, as it had once been mine, and she wanted to begin a family tradition.
I looked at its familiar white wooden exterior, the expertly carved patterns that weave their way across the lid were still stained with gold leaf, and the small lock on the front was still there. I pulled it open gently, easing the lid up to reveal the interior: coated entirely in gold silk, which was padded underneath, and arranged in folds that held the items of jewellery. There was a mirror on the inside of the lid, and just in front of this was a revolving ballerina. She wore a pink dress that was swaying out either side of her thighs, and she was standing in a very traditional stance. From the moment I opened the box she began steadily revolving on her soft, delicate pivot, and a tune had come from a speaker situated on the bottom. The tune was iconic from my childhood: unnameable but easily identifiable. I suppose this tune was in every box like mine, but to me it felt so special. Unlike other children, this style of music didn't sooth me, or make me happy. If anything it made me feel sad and nostalgic. And as I listened to this merry tune once again, I felt myself drifting back into my childhood world: the world where everything was so simple. I didn't rely on anyone and no one relied on me.
But now the nostalgia was fading away, making me question everything that had happened between the end of my childhood and now. The tune stopped playing, and after pausing briefly, it started again, dancing merrily around the room and out of the open closet door.
I'd never realised how loud it was before, and also how loudly I was crying, but I realised as soon as Nate stepped into the room.
He looked down at me, sat exhaustedly on the floor, surrounded by baby clothes and toys, listening to childlike music from a jewellery box.
The look in his eye is almost indescribable, a mix between pity, love and intrigue. He knelt down next to me, and began to fold up the clothes.
"You're not helping yourself" he said, placing them back into the box. "I'll put this in storage until we try again, okay?"
"Okay. Just let me take these" I said, pulling out a single white cardigan that I'd bought and pushing the box to my side.
"Alright then" he said, carrying the rest of the box away. "What do you want to do with the scan picture?" he said when he came back inside.
"Put it next to the picture of my aunt and I" I said, welling up with tears yet again.