The First Rule by Nicole S. Goodin

21

Darcy

I don’t knowwhat terrible thing I did in a former life to deserve this, but I hate every second of my life.

I feel numb.

I’m having a baby – this should be the most exciting time of my life, and all I feel is numb.

Ryan’s there, I’m here, and all that’s left is nothing real.

* * *

“Try me, jackass.”

Those are the only words I clearly make out before I hear the door to my bedroom swing open.

I know it’s Steph, she’s been calling me all day and I’ve let every single one go to voicemail. I heard the commotion when she arrived at the apartment too. Jacob is actually home for once, and less than impressed by the presence of my friend, if the five minutes of muffled yelling between them I’ve just heard is anything to go by.

I barely speak to the man, and he’s never actually asked me what Freya and Steph know about this situation, but I’m sure he’s aware now – knowing Steph, she wouldn’t have held back now that she’s finally had the opportunity to speak her mind.

I’ve been in bed all day, watching Netflix, but not actually absorbing a single thing. This murder documentary series has been playing for hours, and I don’t have the faintest idea what the main guy’s name is, let alone who he supposedly killed or why.

I’m eating, but not tasting anything.

I’ve turned down more work from the magazine.

All in all, I’m failing at life. I can’t even Netflix and chill correctly for fuck’s sake.

Steph doesn’t say a word as she walks in and closes the door behind her. I shift my eyes to watch her without moving my head; that seems like too much effort right now.

I can basically see the steam pouring out of her ears. I don’t know what Jacob said to her, but she is pissed. Maybe it’s not what he said, maybe it’s me. I’ve definitely pushed her to her limits lately.

She stalks across the room, stepping over piles of clothes and shoes to get to the large, floor-length blind that’s currently blocking every last bit of sunlight from entering this room.

She raises it, not giving a flying fuck about doing it slowly and letting me adjust.

I groan and throw a hand over my eyes.

“Like a fucking vampire,” she grumbles to herself.

I look up, squinting against the harsh light that is now pouring in the window.

She’s crouched down, collecting handfuls of clothes and washing off the floor.

I want to argue with her and tell her to leave it, I really do, but honestly, it’s an absolute shit hole in here. Things might not be going well for me right now, but I’m not blind. I can see I’ve let this go too far.

I silently climb out of bed and waddle around, picking things up as I go and putting them away.

We work silently, side by side for about fifteen minutes.

She even takes all my dirty dishes out to the kitchen and, by the sounds of it, dumps them in the sink for someone else to deal with.

“Sit,” she instructs when she re-enters the room, once again, closing the door behind her.

I do as I’m told and sit on the bed, scooting up to rest my back against the headboard.

She climbs on and sits up next to me.

“What are we going to do here, D? I can’t let you live like this.”

I sigh. It’s the question of the century, and one I’m not closer to finding an answer to than I was the day Jacob showed up at Ryan’s house and ruined my life.

“I don’t see a way out, but if you do, then by all means, tell me what it is.”

“You could talk to Ryan.”

I almost roll my eyes. I’m sick of hearing this from her. It’s the only solution she ever comes up with. And I get it, yes, in a perfect world, I would be able to talk to Ryan and he’d swoop in and save the day. But that’s not reality – that’s fantasy. Jacob was right… there is no prince charming coming to save me. There’s no white horse.

“Ryan can’t help me. I’d only be taking him down with me. This is the best way. It’s the only way.”

“You know you’re only punishing yourself, right? You have a shot at real happiness here and you’re wasting it. Ryan loves you, D, he loves you. Not because you’re pregnant, not because he wants to beat Jacob, he loves you because you’re you. All you have to do is let him.”

“It’s not a matter of letting him. Jesus, Steph, do you think I don’t want more? That I don’t know I deserve better? I’m miserable here. I want more than anything to call Ryan and tell him everything. I want him to save me, but the reality is that he can’t save me. I’d just ruin him. Jacob would ruin him.”

“But he’d try, isn’t that better than nothing?”

I know she means well, she really does, but the answer is no. It wouldn’t be better. I don’t see the point in the struggle – the loss – when the outcome is certain. There’s no way around this.

“Short of fleeing the country, every scenario is a losing one.”

She raises a shoulder. “You could.”

“I’m not fleeing the country,” I reply quickly. “No one is uprooting their entire life to save mine. It could be worse. I’m safe, warm and fed. There’s a hell of a lot more injustice occurring in the world right now than what I’m dealing with.”

“Oh, that’s great, D, just because he’s not beating you or depriving you of food, you’re good, right?”

I’m so far from good it’s laughable, but plenty of people have it much, much worse. I know that comparing myself to others doesn’t help me in any way, but it’s all I’ve got right now, and God knows I need something to hold onto.

“I need you to stop, okay? I can’t keep doing this. We’re going around and around in circles, and nothing is any different than when we did the last lap. I know this is a shit show. I know Ryan is miserable, but he’s better off without me. We wouldn’t be together if not for this baby. He never asked for any of this, and the best thing for him is to just move on with his life and forget about me.”

I’ve never seen someone look so disappointed in me.

Steph just shakes her head at me, gets up and leaves the now clean and tidy room.

I don’t call after her. I don’t blame her. I deserve every ounce of her frustration.

I’ve hit rock bottom.

Ever since the night of that awards dinner – hearing Ryan and Rebel’s name being called out, knowing that they’d been acknowledged for all their hard work, thinking for a split second that he might be there – that I might get to lay eyes on him… it was all too much for me.

Jacob’s tense stance next to me, with the fake smile plastered across his face was the icing on the cake.

I folded like a piece of paper.

Even Jacob, who couldn’t give a flying fuck about me, could see that I needed to get out of there, and fast.

He made up some bullshit excuse about me feeling unwell due to the pregnancy and got me out, looking every bit the doting father-to-be as he did it.

It was all a lie.

He spent the entire car ride back to his apartment on the phone, while I coached myself out of a full-blown meltdown.

I knew it was coming, but I’d just wanted to make it to the safety of my bedroom where I could do it in peace.

I’ve barely left the room since. That was an entire week ago.