Noah and I never spoke of that night again. I put the incident behind me and concentrated on Lyla and taking care of myself. I tried to eat better. I tried to sleep. I made it a point to get some exercise every day, and the day finally came when I could think of Jamie and not cry, when I could look at his picture and not despair. That was something, I guess. It was what he would have wanted.
The volleyball team threw me a baby shower. The afternoon was filled with smiles offered at the appropriate times. I might be able to think about Jamie and not cry. I might be able to remember the deep timbre of his voice as he'd whispered to me in the night and not break down completely. I might remember the feel of his arms around me, the way his smile quickened my heart, but I feared my smile would never touch my heart again. I didn't think a broken heart could smile anyway.
Any laughter on my part was was faked. I opened presents with fingers that shook—diapers and Pooh Bear bath towels and frilly dresses that I could never imagine Lyla wearing. It should have been fun. I should have been happy, but I was two short months away from having a baby and Jamie was dead. That was another reason I'd banished that night from my mind. It was the night I realized Jamie was gone. The night my fingers finally slipped off of the cliff's edge and I let go.
I looked around Ally's living room, at the faces of my friends who were trying their best to be upbeat and normal when at seventeen nothing seemed normal anymore. I laid the last of the presents on the floor. I should say something. I'd barely spoken a word. "Thanks, everyone. This means a lot to me."
Pretending was exhausting. Pretending I didn't hurt anymore. Pretending to have moved on when every minute I expected to wake up from this nightmare. I expected Jamie to appear and tell me it all been a mistake, a cruel joke.
Ally and her mom helped carry the gifts and load them into the trunk of my mom's car. I hugged Ally's neck. I thanked Mrs. Reynolds for hosting the shower. I wondered how long the days and events of my life would continue to pass as though I were a spectator, sitting in the highest seat farthest away from the action, as if I were floating through life in a haze.
"Hey sweetie, you okay?" my mom asked when she was settled behind the wheel of her car.
"Yeah." It was the easy answer. It was a complete lie and she knew it. I laid my head on the headrest. "Can I come live with you when the baby comes?"
"Of course you can." She reached over and squeezed my hand. "If that's what you want."
"I can't stay in Jamie's house, and I don't want to go home with Dad. I need something different. Somewhere different."
"We'll fix up a nursery in the guest bedroom."
"You won't mind having a baby around?"
"Of course not. I think the three of us girls can have a really good life together."
"Will I have a life?"
"Yes. You will. And when Lyla comes she's going to fill your life with so much love and joy you're going to wonder how you found any of those things without her. That's how I felt when you were born, and I imagine I'll feel it all over again when Lyla finally gets here."
I covered my face with my hands, not wanting to hope. Hope hurt. Hope led to disappointment.
"One day it won't hurt so much. I promise."
So everyone kept telling me.