We made it home about a week later. The doctor wanted to keep me and watch me and make sure nothing drastic happened. I don't know what they thought would have happened, but I was far from wanting to hurt myself or anyone. I just wanted to go home and be left alone.

I didn't think it would affect either of us as much as it had. The baby, she, was a surprise, and I didn't not want her its just right now was not the right time or with the right person when I found out. Plus, he didn't exactly seem happy to find out it was looked at as a scandal at the time. Now, who knows what the papers or gossip talk show hosts were saying. We avoided media altogether while we were in the hospital.

I was finally sent home after a week, and once we were home, there was no avoiding the media. Our miscarriage was all over the news, and many gossip talk shows were talking about it but not in a bad way. They wished us well and condolences, but I was tired of hearing them talk about it. It was almost like reliving it every time someone said anything.

______________

A week after being home, Markus went back to work and encouraged me to take my time coming back in. I didn't feel the need or want to go back. Part of me couldn't understand how he could act so normal like nothing happened. As if we weren't turning one of his many rooms into a nursery months before and grieving the loss of our baby just a couple of weeks ago.

Now, what would our relationship be? Was it all because of her that we were even together? Does he now just feel obligated to stay together because we lost her? So many insecure questions that I didn't dare to ask or to know the truth. Markus and I haven't spoken much since we got back to his house, let alone at the hospital. I don't know if he's relieved she isn't a worry anymore or if he is just as hurt as I am.

The most challenging thing for me has been not remembering what happened. Markus' mother said I had lost my balance while walking down the stairs, but I barely even remember Mrs. Turner being there. I remember agreeing to meet her for lunch and her being upset that I had kept her waiting. After that, it's blurry. I see spots more clearly than many others.

"Still in bed, I see."

Speak of the devil, and she shall appear. Markus must have asked her to come over and check on me.

"She is grieving," a more friendly voice stated as I felt a hand on my shoulder, "You conniving bitch," Dee whispered in my ear, which made me smile.

Luckily, I had Dee coming over almost every day to check on Markus and me. "I brought you guys groceries. I figured I could make you some lunch?"

"Well...Markus asked me to bring her some lunch. It's already sitting in the kitchen." Mrs. Turner spoke up after being silent since Dee shoved past her a few seconds ago.

I sat up in the bed and turned to see them both in my room, Dee sitting on my bed and Mrs. Turner in the door frame, "Mrs. Turner, with all due respect...I would prefer lunch with Dee." I said, which surprised even me.

I could tell she was slightly offended, and from her face, I could only imagine Dee's facial expression, "Well then...I suppose I'll get going." With that, she turned and left the room. We sat in silence until we heard the front door slam and her car screech out the driveway.

"You realize she's going to tell on you, right?"

I shrugged my shoulders as I stood from my bed and headed towards the kitchen, "I don't really care. She's barely been kind to me, and I just don't care." I only felt terrible a little, but it was true; with all this going on, I didn't feel the need to be nice to her or even try to get her to like me anymore. She disapproved of the baby, to begin with, so I was absolutely sure she was happy the baby was out of the picture. And that hurt to know.

I sat and watched Dee cook, and she talked and talked. It was nice because I did not feel up to helping her fill the silence. She told me about all the gossip she heard from her job, and somehow she knew the gossip from my job. It felt nice to do something a little ordinary.

____________

Dee was right; she did tattle. The first thing out of Markus' mouth when he walked through the door and saw me curled up on the couch writing in my journal was,

"She was just trying to be nice. You didn't have to be so rude to my mother."

I rolled my eyes and closed my journal, "Markus. We both know what she thinks of me. And what she thought of the baby. Do you honestly think she isn't at home celebrating her being dead?"

He was shocked. His face said it all. I hadn't said it out loud yet, and for some reason, that made it even more real for both of us.

"She was there, growing. And then she wasn't." I said, wrapping my arms around my stomach, "So excuse me for not wanting to have lunch with the one person who wished our baby never happened. She got her wish."

He moved to try and comfort me, but I moved away, "I'm hurting too, you know? This isn't easy for me either, but she's my mother."

"Then you have lunch with her, or can you still not stand the woman enough for that?" I moved from the couch as he sat next to me.

"Why are you acting like she was the cause of this? It was an accident."

"It's not that she was the cause, Markus," I yelled. "How can you expect me to be kind and have lunch with a woman who felt ill toward us having our baby to begin with?"

"Janice."

"If you are so hurt by it all, why are you acting as if nothing happened? How can you not understand I don't want to see that woman?"

"That's not fair!" He stood from his seat, "I am hurting.."

"Right. Going back to work not a week after getting back from the hospital. After losing a child, that's normal." I scoffed at him.

"Janice, I have to work. One of us has to around here! You've been coupled up in your room for days. You wouldn't eat talk; you weren't even sleeping. When I'm at work, I need someone to watch out for you."

"So you send your mother?" I sneered at the thought of him, thinking that was a good idea.

"Who else? Dee? She's got her own life. My mother is the only person I could think of."

"Right because last time she was here, things went so well."

He grew silent, "I'm not discussing this anymore. This hurts me just as much as it hurts you. Just because I don't show it by laying around and moping around doesn't mean shit." With those last words, he walked away. I didn't care where he went just away from me at the time.

I moved back on the couch with tears swelling in my eyes and opened my journal. On the page, 'What happened' was written on the top, underlined aggressively. I had mapped out the entire day that I could remember. Something just wasn't adding up to me, from his mother's story to my baby dying.