into her after all,” Emma said softly. “You still have feelings for me.”
Russ hit the steering wheel with the palm of his hand. “Damn it, Emma! That’s not it!” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her lean away from him, her eyes wide. He took another breath. “Listen, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything that happened. I can’t fix anything. I can’t change what happened. But I just thought the least I could do is—is—”
“Is what?” she said softly.
“I don’t know. Just—whatever.” He slowed the car. “Where do you live now?”
She told him and he turned the car around. They drove in silence until Russ said, “What about a doctor?”
She scowled.
“I know it’s not hormonal,” he said through gritted teeth. “I get that, okay? I’m with you on that. But still. This is like a major depression or something. You could go on anti-depressants for a while, go to therapy, and figure out some way to deal with this. Because what happened—it happened. And neither one of us can take it back—even though we both wish we could. You need to find someone to help you deal with this and go forward.” Russ paused to check out her reaction. Emma sat leaning against the door, staring at nothing. “I’ll help you with that. I’ll pick you up and take you where you need to go, if you want.”
Still no response.
Finally, Emma said, “I did that already. I was on Prozac. But I was just really tired all the time at the beginning, and then I would get kind of hyper and blurt out all these stupid things. I insulted clients and lost my job.”
Russ didn’t know what to say to that. He turned onto her street and kept a look out for the right number.
“Is this it?” he said.
Emma nodded.
He helped her out of the car and supported her up to her apartment. She sank onto a taupe leather couch, and Russ took the crocheted blanket draped over the back and spread it over her. Then he took out his wallet and pulled out all the bills he had and lay them on the end table. Emma just watched him without saying anything.
Russ looked around. Food-encrusted disposable plates and cups lay scattered around and crumbs littered the carpet. He went to the kitchen, hit the button on the electric kettle and found a packet of green tea. With a plastic spoon, Russ dabbed some honey into a stray plastic cup and he brought her the tea. She just stared at it, so he put it down on the table in front of the couch.
“Do you want me to stream something from Netflix for you?”
She just shook her head.
Though Russ itched to go, his feet felt cemented to the floor. “Emma, let me call someone. I don’t want to leave you here alone.”
She swallowed and without looking at him, she said, “You already left me. Alone.”
He blew out the tension building up inside. “I told you—I’m sorry. I am really sorry. I just didn’t realize. I honestly didn’t know.”
Emma nodded. Then she hugged the blanket around her and said, “You can go. Just go.”
Russ waited another moment.
“Seriously,” she said. “Just go. There’s no point. You don’t really want to be here. And I can feel that loud and clear.”
Russ nodded once, but he remained standing where he was. “Listen, if you need something, if you want something, you know you can call.”
“Can I?”
“Yeah, of course. I mean, now that I know what you’ve been through and what’s going on with you…I know it’s partly my fault.”
Emma sighed and leaned against the couch back. “Goodbye, Russ.”
“Okay. Goodbye.” But he still waited another moment, watching Emma, before he finally went out the door.
Yet once in the car, Russ couldn’t bring himself to key the ignition. He just sat in his car with his hands on the wheel. Then he picked up his cell phone and started tapping. A site popped up showing the diagram of an eight-week-old fetus and a list of its development. Then he looked at a nine-week-old fetus. They didn’t look so human; they
Russ hit the steering wheel with the palm of his hand. “Damn it, Emma! That’s not it!” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her lean away from him, her eyes wide. He took another breath. “Listen, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything that happened. I can’t fix anything. I can’t change what happened. But I just thought the least I could do is—is—”
“Is what?” she said softly.
“I don’t know. Just—whatever.” He slowed the car. “Where do you live now?”
She told him and he turned the car around. They drove in silence until Russ said, “What about a doctor?”
She scowled.
“I know it’s not hormonal,” he said through gritted teeth. “I get that, okay? I’m with you on that. But still. This is like a major depression or something. You could go on anti-depressants for a while, go to therapy, and figure out some way to deal with this. Because what happened—it happened. And neither one of us can take it back—even though we both wish we could. You need to find someone to help you deal with this and go forward.” Russ paused to check out her reaction. Emma sat leaning against the door, staring at nothing. “I’ll help you with that. I’ll pick you up and take you where you need to go, if you want.”
Still no response.
Finally, Emma said, “I did that already. I was on Prozac. But I was just really tired all the time at the beginning, and then I would get kind of hyper and blurt out all these stupid things. I insulted clients and lost my job.”
Russ didn’t know what to say to that. He turned onto her street and kept a look out for the right number.
“Is this it?” he said.
Emma nodded.
He helped her out of the car and supported her up to her apartment. She sank onto a taupe leather couch, and Russ took the crocheted blanket draped over the back and spread it over her. Then he took out his wallet and pulled out all the bills he had and lay them on the end table. Emma just watched him without saying anything.
Russ looked around. Food-encrusted disposable plates and cups lay scattered around and crumbs littered the carpet. He went to the kitchen, hit the button on the electric kettle and found a packet of green tea. With a plastic spoon, Russ dabbed some honey into a stray plastic cup and he brought her the tea. She just stared at it, so he put it down on the table in front of the couch.
“Do you want me to stream something from Netflix for you?”
She just shook her head.
Though Russ itched to go, his feet felt cemented to the floor. “Emma, let me call someone. I don’t want to leave you here alone.”
She swallowed and without looking at him, she said, “You already left me. Alone.”
He blew out the tension building up inside. “I told you—I’m sorry. I am really sorry. I just didn’t realize. I honestly didn’t know.”
Emma nodded. Then she hugged the blanket around her and said, “You can go. Just go.”
Russ waited another moment.
“Seriously,” she said. “Just go. There’s no point. You don’t really want to be here. And I can feel that loud and clear.”
Russ nodded once, but he remained standing where he was. “Listen, if you need something, if you want something, you know you can call.”
“Can I?”
“Yeah, of course. I mean, now that I know what you’ve been through and what’s going on with you…I know it’s partly my fault.”
Emma sighed and leaned against the couch back. “Goodbye, Russ.”
“Okay. Goodbye.” But he still waited another moment, watching Emma, before he finally went out the door.
Yet once in the car, Russ couldn’t bring himself to key the ignition. He just sat in his car with his hands on the wheel. Then he picked up his cell phone and started tapping. A site popped up showing the diagram of an eight-week-old fetus and a list of its development. Then he looked at a nine-week-old fetus. They didn’t look so human; they
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