Moving back to our garage, I walk to the back corner where a few of my unopened boxes from my old apartment sit. Hidden behind the stack of boxes is a small floral-patterned box I pull out for the first time in years. Brushing the dust off, I open the ancient lid and the weathered photo of Beau and I from our prom night stare back at me.
I remember walking down the steps at Granddad’s farm so nervous. I was the only underclassmen going to prom. Beau had promised me a night to remember and he didn’t disappoint. I ended up giving my virginity to Beau that night and it had been magical. But it was more than that. He spun me around the dance floor in my pale green dress that matched his eyes. Everything had felt like we were just taking the next step in our story.
The next week I was walking on cloud nine. School ended and I watched the love of my life walk across the stage on graduation day and I thought my heart might burst with pride. Flipping the photo of prom to the bottom of the stack, I see the one of Beau and I at his graduation and the smile on my face makes me smile remembering it.
It took three weeks for the happiest moments of my life to turn into the darkest. Setting down the stack on pictures, I dig further into the box of memories to find what I’m looking for. Three weeks after graduation, Beau announced he was leaving, and it wasn’t to the school we had planned. He told me two days before he drove away he was going to Notre Dame and that he wouldn’t be coming back for me.
I was hurt.
I was broken.
I thought I’d never find the will to move on.
A week and a half after Beau drove away from me, I missed my period. After I talked with Millie, we decided this was something much bigger than two seventeen-year olds could handle and we went to my mom. Two doctors’ appointments later, I was a ball of tears in my bed because there was no hiding behind my broken heart anymore, I had to contact Beau.
It was the right thing to do. I was pregnant and he had a right to know no matter how hurt he made me.
So that’s what I did. I swallowed my pride and my hurt, only to be met with a ‘this phone had been disconnected’ message. Not only did he cut me out of his life, of his heart, but he changed his number, so I’d never be able to contact him again.
Dragging myself out of the painful memory, I grip the only sonogram I have of the life that began through the love I had for Beau. Tears fall unwittingly, but there’s no stopping them. Staring down at the only photo I’ll ever have; I pick up the hospital bracelet that is the next thing out of the box.
It turns out I didn’t need to contact Beau after all. I cried myself though most of those first few weeks after Beau left until one day I woke up to cramping so bad, my whole body felt like it was seizing. Lying in bed, I sat up as a warm flow of liquid rushed past my thighs.
I don’t remember much from the next few hours. I remember the pain. I remember screaming for my mom and the look on her face because she knew what was happening.
The sorrow that filled my body from the loss of Beau, and my inability to take better care of myself, I love the child I wanted more than my next breath. I was admitted to the hospital for the rest of the day while they made sure the ‘fetal material’ had all left my body. I had just lost my baby and the doctors could only refer to it as ‘fetal material’. Those assholes.
To me, I was carrying a baby girl. A precious little girl with beautiful vibrant green eyes like her daddy and blond hair like her momma. And over the years, whenever I think about my baby there’s one name that’s always stood out—Ivy. She’s been my grace through hard times and so, even though there’s no headstone or obituary, Baby Ivy will always have a place in my heart.
My mom had told everyone that I had a severe respiratory infection and was getting antibiotics via IV and that’s what my hospital stay was all about. Nobody questioned it, and only my mom and Millie knew the real reason.
That baby is the reason I never let anyone else take my body like I’d let Beau. I loved him to my very core, but in the end he walked away. I can’t let that happen again. If I’m going to give my body to someone, if I’m going to open myself up to the possibility of conceiving again, I need to know it’s with the person I’m going to spend my life with. Someone who will never leave me when I need them most.
Holding the sonogram of the life I’ll never know; I pull out my cell phone. As tears cascade down my cheeks, I scroll through my recent calls until I see Mason’s name. I need to tell him the truth—tell him everything. I don’t remember him telling me about any meetings, so he should hopefully answer and be able to come home.
Ring after ring echoes over the open line without any answer. Tears continue to pour down and now that I’ve opened the floodgates that have been closed for years, there’s no stopping them. Pressing the phone to my ear again, I wait with bated breath for my fiancé to answer and come running.
Leaving the box open and uncovered, I drop my phone to the ground, and walk with my sonogram to the couch where I crumble into a ball. Finally allowing the pain that’s been bottled up to bleed through. No one knows about Baby Ivy, but Millie and my mom and they’re both at work. I can’t disrupt their day because I’m having a meltdown. I’m going to get through this like I always have—alone with my Ivy in my heart.
I cry for what feels like forever. When the front door opens and closes, I lift my swollen eyes toward the hallway that connects the front door to the living room.
“Mason?” my raspy voice sounds like it’s a million miles away, and my head feels like it’s swollen to the size of a hot air balloon.
“Cal?” Deacon’s voice calls as he enters the room. “Callie?” he says with more concern in his voice now that he sees me in a ball on the couch. “I’m going to kill him!” he growls.
“Mason didn’t do anything.” I’m quick to my fiancé’s defense—even though a small part of this is because I have no clue where Mason is and why he didn’t answer my calls.
“Not Mason, Beau. How dare he do this to you again?” Deacon is so damn angry, but it’s misguided. He has no clue why I’m so upset. Suddenly, he looks down at what is in my hand and it registers to me what’s in my grasp. “Is this it? The one you and Beau lost?”
My eyes dart to his knowing gaze and my heart hammers in my chest. “How?”
“Callie, I’m a cop. I didn’t get promoted to Sheriff by being an idiot. I’ve known since that first summer I came back from college. You’d been so withdrawn. Mom kept making excuses, but I knew those were paper thin. It took a while, but I eventually got it out of Millie. She swore me to secrecy, but she wanted me to be there for you if she couldn’t. I can’t stand the woman, but you can’t be mad at her, she did it because she cares.”
I nod because I’m not mad. I’m glad it’s one less secret I have from one less person. Unfortunately, it’s not one of the two people who really deserve to know the truth.
“I’m not mad.” I sigh. “In fact, I’m glad you know.” Somehow sharing this part of myself with my brother helps to lift some of the weight off my chest. “This is Ivy,” I say, holding out the sonogram image in my hand. “She’s the baby I lost.”
My brother takes the image and stares at it. He blinks a few times, his eyes growing misty. “I’m so sorry, Callie.” He swallows hard, handing me back the photo. “No one deserves the type of pain you’ve had to endure.”