HEJ, MY LOVE

THE BLAME GAME

Jonas understood he could not leech on the doctor for sympathy. He returned to the bedroom, where he found Sierra putting on the clothes he had brought.

Sierra's stomach still had the small bump, and it would remain until her body understood there was no baby, according to the doctor.

Sierra then sat on the bed facing the window. She came to a resolution. It was divine punishment.

"Sierra," Jonas came to kneel before her, "Iㅡ."

"Let's go home, Jonas."

The woman wasn't in the mood to hear sorrowful words, especially from her husband, and Jonas didn't distribute any during the drive. Once home Sierra went straight to the guestroom.

She hated him; Jonas was sure.

In the guestroom, Sierra wondered how the man could still care for her after what she did?

Another question came to hound her. Why did she feel she was pregnant when she wasn't?

The sensation stirred odd thoughts.

What if he was still there?

Sierra could not think straight as denial began to rent space in her mind.

The couple spent the day in separate spaces. Jonas only asked if Sierra wished to eat once. Left without a response, he figured she slept while the woman rolled up in a ball, hands hugging her knees to muffle her sobs.

They spent two days like this. The lack of communication reinforced the false beliefs. As Jacob told Sierra, she always saw one side of the story, and there she chose the narrative suiting the theme of her guilt.

Jonas beat himself up about bringing her back to this apartment on his side. 

How could he be so indelicate? 

He made Sierra stay in the place where the memories of loss drenched all floors and offered more torment.

The man should have at least asked his parents to let Sierra stay at theirs or made a move to another location.

Jonas forgot that moving about was a luxury of his and that other couples see single women found themselves condemned to the spaces where the loss occurred.

Like her husband, Sierra no longer entered the bathroom she saw as a graveyard.

Silence reigned in all of the apartment.

Jonas did and said nothing when he crossed his wife in the kitchen or the hall. The woman was in her world, and the man didn't know if he had the right to enter. Both took glances when the other looked away. Jonas' eyes were bloodshot by the lack of sleep, while Sierra's surpassed the raccoon phase. The woman's eyes were barred by what looked like a cartoon bandit mask as she cried around the clock.

Restless and unable to support seeing his wife's suffering. Jonas isolated himself and attempted to spin objects to kill the frustration. Everything ended as it began, in a shapeless pile of clay.

On the third day, Jonas went to get Leone.

The boy clung to his father, he enjoyed his grandparent's company, but he wished to return to his house.

Why did they exile him?

The boy convinced himself it was because of the other baby. He saw it at daycare. Everyone cared and made a fuss about the smaller people. Perhaps he was not cute enough anymore, and his parents decided to replace him with another child.

"Papa, aime [papa love]"

Jonas frowned at the odd sentence. Was Leone asking whether she loved him?

The man picked him up and hugged him, "je t'aime, Leone."

Without knowing, Leone added another helping of guilt to the man's already well-garnished menu.

Swamped, Jonas neglected his firstborn by omission. Yes, he fulfilled his duties, but Jonas wasn't as present as he imagined. Realizing the number of fails he cumulated in the short lapse of time brought man down. Jonas forgot no matter how attentive one was, some things always escaped one's control because they could not be mastered in the first place.

"Jonas, have you spoken to her?" Sigrid asked.

"She doesn't want to see me."

"Says who? Your wife is waiting for you. Sierra needs you to tell her it isn't her fault. That you love her, and you'll get through this because you will. That's what you two will do," his mother said.

"I'm unworthy, mom-I'm unworthy of her. I'm unable to look at her, and I can't touch her. She looks so broken, and I don't know what to do."

Wet.

Since when did it rain inside? Thought Leone, who immediately looked up to see only to find his father in tears. Jonas cried; the tears kept dropping though he brushed them away. It was the first time Leone saw his father in this state, and the boy not only acknowledged grownups cried, but men could do it as well.

"Oh, Jonas," Sigrid said. The mother's heart ached for his son. Jonas was a rock for many, always taming all surges of emotion, but he was probably the most vulnerable of her sons.

There was no consoling him. No word or action was enough. An hour later, father and son were home.

"Leone, wait."

The boy forced himself free from Jonas's hand and ran as soon as they entered the apartment; "mama?" Leone yelled. He began with their bedroom before opening all the doors and finding her. "Mama," the boy ran and climbed on the bed to tap on her knees.

"Leone," Jonas said from the door, not wanting to step over the threshold of Sierra's space. The woman looked up, took Leone in a hug, and began to cry under Jonas's hopeless stare. Unable to bear the scene, he walked away feeling like a coward, "and you call yourself a husband," he mumbled.

Leone stared at his mom. What was wrong with his parents?

Why did they cry?

Did he do something wrong? The boy didn't understand, and he, too, found his heart tightening. Thank goodness Rufus was there to deviate his thoughts. Jonas' dog understood the hour was grave. His eyes drooped just as his lips, but for the little boy, Rufus played fetch, hide and seek, including any other games that could distract Leone.

The days were long for the trusty companion, who watched the sunset, hoping the next day would be better for the family. For the moment, he had to accomplish his duty and maintain the title of being man's best friend.