Antidote

By KinaWrites

227K 6.4K 1.5K

In the final book in the series, Hayden and Alice's story ends with the good, the bad, and all that lies in b... More

Preface.
Chapter 1.
Chapter 2.
Chapter 3.
Chapter 4.
Chapter 5.
Chapter 6.
Chapter 7.
Chapter 8.
Chapter 9.
Chapter 10.
Chapter 11.
Chapter 12.
Chapter 13.
Chapter 14.
Chapter 15.
Chapter 16.
Chapter 17.
Chapter 18.
Chapter 19.
Chapter 20.
Chapter 21.
Chapter 22.
Chapter 23.
Chapter 25.
Chapter 26.
Chapter 27.

Chapter 24.

4.9K 150 49
By KinaWrites

"Feel the wind and the fire hold the pain deep inside, it's in my eyes, in my eyes, I'd rather be anywhere, anywhere but here..."

(ZAYN - Good Years)

____________________________________________________________________

- Hayden's Point of View -

I had less to drink than she did, so I decided to drive us home even though she begged me to let her drive. I'm trying not to be angry with her or disappointed in her for choosing to drink tonight. Hell, it was the first thing I thought about doing when I learned we lost our baby. So I don't blame her for thinking about it, but I wish she hadn't ordered herself a drink. She hasn't touched any alcohol since she passed out and got poisoning three years ago. She's been using more effective ways of dealing with her problems, but now that she's back with me, alcohol is her first resort. This woman beside me, who usually voices her thoughts, is doing what I used to do to her. Deflecting, drinking, and avoiding the truth.

"Alice, " I begin to talk to her but showing no interest in what I have to say. She turned the volume up from the center console, blasting the music to drown me out. Has she always been this fucking stubborn?

I don't want to pick a fight or force her, but I just want her to talk to me. I find it impossible to believe this is how she wants to cope with her pain. Is this really what I was putting her through for months?

To avoid her becoming even more irate with me, I leave her to her music for the entire drive back to the house. Assuming it's what she wants, I distance myself from her to give her space when we get inside. Tearing out of the suit jacket and loosening the tie from my neck, I roll up my sleeves as I sit in my office chair, watching her on the security cameras. She goes straight to the bar in the second lounge room, pouring herself a drink with ice before pouring scotch into another glass. Downing a shot, she refills it and picks up the other glass, walking towards my study. I exit the cameras before she can reach the door opening up my email instead.

When the door opens, I feign my surprise, as if I hadn't been watching her this entire time. "I brought you a drink." Her smile is demure as she sits the glass down on my desk, sliding it over to me. "It's your favorite."

She's only on her fifth glass now, including the two from the restaurant, and I can already tell the effect it's having on her. She used to need seven glasses to get to her lascivious state, but I can tell her beast is already here.

"Thank you, baby." Even though I don't want it, I don't want any of this.

Setting her nearly empty glass beside mine, she stalks over to my side, turning my chair, forcing me to face her. Sitting on my lap and without a word, she crashes her lips onto mine. Her mouth is eager against mine, begging me to take away her pain this way. Fighting within myself to comply or to put a stop to this, the weaker side of me gets the best of me, my hand wrapping around her waist as she grinds herself over me. My other hand moves from the armrest to her head, keeping her soft, pleading lips against mine.

She needs me to do this for her. If there's anyone that knows about this, it's me.

And that's precisely why I shouldn't be doing this. I can see what she's attempting to do, and I should do the opposite. I don't want my beauteous and precious Alice to disappear from me and turn into someone neither of us would recognize. So I pull away. I pull away from her solicitations and her silent plea.

"What's wrong?" She questions, bewilderment overtaking her delicate features.

"We shouldn't do this right now, Alice, not like this."

"Fuck Hayden," Her tone is uncharacteristically somber. "I thought we got past this already."

By her response, I can tell she completely misunderstood my statement. I don't want to hurt her, especially after the day she's been having, so I'm endeavoring to avoid being too unvarnished with her. "I don't mean with you on to of me or nearly drunk. I don't think you should be trying to fuck at all."

Disregarding my words, her lips captivate me, pulling me into her entrance. Her dress lifts, removing one of the barriers between us. Reflexively my hands cup her ass, squeezing the soft flesh and pressurizing her impossibly closer to me. I desire to pull away and explain to her that this isn't how she wants to go about this, but my yearning for her is more vigorous.

After undoing my shirt's buttons, her lips tread from my mouth downwards until she reaches the top of my pants. She on her knees before me palming my cock through the fabric. As much as I want her, my hand grasps her jaw, regrettably taking her mouth off of me before she has the chance to go further. I nearly lose my composure as I look down at her—the wild look in her eyes and the twitch of her plump lips impetrating to be wrapped around me. Her parted lips are magnetic, pulling me back into her whenever I plan to resist her.

"Let's go to bed instead, baby," Even when I try to speak, I can't seem to break away from the trap of her lips. "It's been a long day."

"But I just want to make you feel better, Hayden." The tinge of sadness in her tone nearly breaks me, and I question why I'm resisting her in the first place.

Releasing her jaw and sitting back in my chair, I respond, "As much as I love and adore you for trying, we don't need sex for you to make me feel better, Alice."

"Wait," It was the distortion of her face and the suggesting tone of her voice that told me, with just her one word, I fucked up. She rises to her feet, glowering down at me. "Are you saying you don't want to have sex with me?"

"Of course I want to have sex with you, Alice, I always do, just not right now."

"Why not? Are you angry with me?"

"No, baby, you haven't done anything." I attempt to choose my words carefully, but I don't think it's working by the look on her face. "I don't want to revert to sex to avoid this problem at hand."

"This is because of the baby?"

"Yes—" Her question catches me off guard. This is her first time mentioning the baby since we were at her appointment. "Wait, no, it's not. This is—"

"Fuck you, Hayden." Before I could gauge her plan, the liquor she poured for me and the glass was crashing on the ground. The glass shatters immediately while its contents splatter all around. Her glass is next to break on the floor, but I still don't react to stop her.

I finally react when I see her pick up my phone, I stand tall towering above her, taking my phone from her grip before she can destroy it, too. "Cut this childish shit, Alice," The words are out before I can think of what to say to her.

"You blame me for this, I know it!" She yells loudly, storming out of the room.

"Blame you for what?" I match her voice set out to follow behind her, but I'm constrained to watch my step from all the glass she threw near me. By the time I make it out of the office, she's nowhere to be found.

"Alice!" I call out to her, not expecting a response from her but praying she hasn't decided to step foot into any of the cars in the garage. The state she's in, I doubt she'd make it to the driveway. And that thought sends a shiver down my spine and my feet to move faster to find her. "Alice!"

I only feel a tinge of relief when I hear more glass breaking because it meant she hasn't decided to try to drive somewhere. Instead, she's dealing with her pain by breaking anything she can get her hands on. Following the sounds of her mumbled words and the loud shattering glass, I find her in the liquor storage room in the kitchen. "For fucks sake, Alice, what the hell are you doing?"

"Fuck you, Hayden," She swears. Throwing one of the bottles in my direction at the entrance to the closet. Luckily through her inebriated state, it hits the wall, the bourbon only splashing on my shirt.

"Why are you doing this?" I can not wrap my head around Alice behaving in this manner. The only time I've ever witnessed her this incensed was when she left me for the night to be with her ex. That time, it might've been well deserved, but I don't understand her anger with me this time.

My question causes her to stop mid-throw, and I take it as a sign to get closer to her. If I can get her into my arms, there's a possibility of her gaining the competence to compose herself.

"Why are you behaving this way?" My voice is calmer than before, my steps carefully as I slowly make my way towards her. The closer I get, I can see the tears strolling down her cheeks, and she's fighting within herself to cry or hold back her tears. She's been hiding behind the liquor, but the pain she feels is palpable the closer I get to her. I desire to ease her pain, but she has yet to accept this situation by her response throughout the day. Not only is she fighting back her tears, but she's also fighting the truth.

As she looked up at me, the corybantic expression in her eyes informed me how desperate she is to enounce her frustrations, her despondency, and whatever else is drowning her mind. Instead of articulating anything, another glass is thrown at me. "Don't you fucking come near me!" Her voice is loud but distorted as she fights to speak through her tears.

I manage to dodge the glass in time, but her words trouble me most. Every so often, I still battle with insecurities that my father and others I let in have left me with. Although I know this isn't about me, the question arises in my mind making me asks myself if there's a chance that she does not want me. From the beginning, since she came back into my life, she was apprehensive about this relationship. I can never doubt Alice's affinity for me, but if there's anything that I learned from her, you can love someone and not want to be with them.

"What the hell do you think I'm blaming you for Alice?"

"Our baby, Hayden." Saying this aloud prompts her to cry harder. I can't grasp how she came to this assumption since we haven't had the opportunity to talk about anything, but with this answer, I can piece together fragments of her behavior to decipher the core of it.

This is an affair I have never been forced to contend with when it came to a woman or relationship. I have never desired to understand another's pain, nor have I had to deal with a woman this aggressive, but to be forthright, I wouldn't want to experience this with anyone except Alice. It's another first for me, and being able to endure reminds me of how our relations developed. We started with fulfilling the other first times, and learning more new affairs that we get to approach together grants me optimism about our future together.

I've gotten close enough to her to take her face in either of my hands, forcing her to look up at me, "Baby, I don't blame you for anything."

"Yes, you do, I know you do." She convinces herself of something undoubtedly fictitious. I don't declare her to be guilty of anything. I recognize that the feasibility of these types of things occurring is always there. There's nothing that she could have done differently to change this outcome.

"Do you blame yourself?" My question causes her to become incandescent, the anger steaming from her, and it was enough of an answer. Tearing my hands from her face, she pushes against me, endeavoring to get me away from her. Through this, I learned she's the one censuring herself and is projecting those feelings onto me.

Since I haven't moved from my position after her first shove, she does it again. When I don't budge, anger flashed in her eyes, and her hands fly up to my chest, pushing and hitting against me. Swears and spiteful declarations leave her lips as she fights against me. Words of rage and abhorrence towards me—that I would have never expected to hear from her—are spewed from her and engraved into my mind. Worthless. Awful. Disgusting. Sickening.

Instinctively, my hands grip her wrist to put a stop to her hits, and for a moment, my anger engulfs me. Slamming her body against the wall behind her, I pin her arms above her head, hindering her immobile. "You are—" Her voice cuts me off before I can say anything I know I'll regret once the waters have cooled.

"Let go of me, Hayden. You're hurting me."

"Fuck!" I release my grip on her wrist, slamming the wall above her head. I can see the redness on her wrists from my strength, "Fuck I'm sorry, I shouldn't have—"

Holding onto one of her wrists, she pushes past me, and this time I let her. "Don't fucking follow me. I don't want to sleep beside you."

"Alice!" I call after her but make no move to follow her. I want her to turn around or stop walking just to hear me out. I don't exactly know why I called her back, but I will figure out if she turns back. I don't want her to sleep angry, and I don't want her to end her night thinking I would hit her or that I planned to hurt her. I only wanted to talk to her, to work through our feelings. I only made things worse.

She doesn't stop walking or turn around to look at me. I hear her running up the steps and slamming the bedroom door closed behind her.

Not wanting to leave Mrs. Sutter to have to clean up glass first thing in the morning, I get down on the floor, picking up the larger pieces scattered about all over the floor.

With everything that's been going on today, I haven't had a second actually to think about the baby we learned we lost today. The baby I was grateful for, that reunited us and would have been the answer to the prayers I made on Thanksgiving three years ago. I have always wanted a family with Alice, children of our own that would have looked like us, and we almost had it. Almost.

Unwelcome tears fall on their own accord, and I am quick to put a stop to them, bottling up the emotions and tears as I continue to clean the glass and liquor. If I can't get through to Alice, I know someone else who has always been better at handling her than I ever could. Although it's late, I dial her best friend, hoping she can call her and get her to open up about her emotions.

I get sent to her voicemail and decide on leaving her a message, "I apologize for the late call, I know you're probably exhausted from dealing with Elijah all day, but I needed your assistance in getting through to Alice. I've never had to deal with her closing herself off and throwing bottles on the ground and at me. She refuses to talk about the baby with me, so I'm begging you, Reign, if you can get her to tell you anything, please try. I'm calling you because I don't know what else to do about her. You don't have to call me back, but please call her."

Wanting to check on her, I slowly open the door to the room. I find her in the bed wearing one of my worn t-shirts, hair covering her face, and one of her hands is holding onto her wrist. I pull the sheets over her, covering her body, and I pepper her face with kisses, whispering my apology to her. I apologize for hurting her, being unable to get through to her, and not being someone she can lean on when her pain is too much for her to bear. I apologize to her for not being enough.

- Alice's Point of View -

Everything hurts this morning. The sun is too bright, my phone is too loud throughout the room, and the gut-wrenching thoughts about my baby have already started to swarm my mind. I turn on my side without opening my eyes to get closer to Hayden, only to find that his usual place beside me in the bed is empty. That's when I open my eyes.

His side of the bed is untouched, and I'm wearing one of his shirts. I don't remember what happened when we got home last night but for Hayden to avoid sleeping beside me tells me something went wrong. I fucked something else up. I somehow managed to hurt him again.

I reach for my phone, answering Reign's call. Before I get the chance to say anything, I can already hear her yelling, "Fucking finally, Alice, I've been calling you all morning. I was so worried. Are you okay?"

"What do you mean?" I sit up in the bed, my eyes scanning the room for any sign of Hayden. "Did something happen?"

"Hayden left me a message last night. I was already asleep, but he said you were throwing shit and breaking the bottles of alcohol. What the fuck Alice?"

I did that last night? I know I wasn't drunk last night to the point where I forget what happened, so why can't I remember this? What I do remember from last night is taking my anger with myself out on Hayden, and for that, I know I need to apologize to him. He didn't deserve to hear harsh words, mostly when all he wanted to do was be there with me.

"Alice!" Reign yells through the phone to get my attention since I haven't replied to her.

"Sorry, I'm here. I just don't remember what happened when we got home from the restaurant."

"You were drinking?" Her previous anger has subsided, and I can tell she's concerned for me.

"I was avoiding and masking my pain," I explain. I was upset with myself for drinking last night. I could've—no, I should have handled my feelings appropriately. All of my guilt, shame, and sadness shouldn't have been taken out on Hayden or avoided with liquor.

"Oh Alice," She whispers. "I'm so sorry about your baby."

"You heard?" The only person I told is David. I haven't brought myself to speak to anyone else about this. Mr. Alexander and his first wife experienced many miscarriages throughout their marriage, and he used sex and my mother as an escape from his pain. I don't want to go through that. I don't want to be the reason Hayden reverts to his old self or that I turn to alcohol again. We were supposed to be better, and I can tell Hayden tried all day yesterday. It was me who was holding us back.

"Hayden called Channing." I can hear Elijah whining in the background of the call as she speaks to me. His little cries make my heart hurt even more. "I know it's a dumb question given the situation, but how are you doing?"

"It's not dumb, Reign. I know you mean well. I'm not sure how yet, but I think we can make it through this. I want to go through this with him, but I can't even face him."

"What do you mean?"

"I failed him, and I failed our family. You know Hayden was so excited to have a child together, and I just took that away from him." My voice breaks as I speak. Tears were already brimming my eyes. "How can I face him again, knowing that I'm the cause of his pain?"

"Say this to him," I hear Channing respond. "If this is what is going on inside your head, tell him and let him decide how to respond to you, Alice. Reign or I can sit here telling you repeatedly that this loss isn't your fault, but the one who can help you through this is downstairs wondering why you're angry with him and what he did wrong."

Sometimes I love Channing and Reign for always pushing me to get my shit together. They're not the type of friends that let me get away with stupidity, especially when I'm running from my truth. They are always there to force me to go forward instead of backward. I'm going to find Hayden, make amends, and a decision together about our baby.

"I am sorry for your loss Alice," Although it's the typical phrase you say to someone, I can tell how sincere he is as he says it. "I am praying you, and Hayden can get through this together."

Me too, Channing. "Thank you," I say instead. "I love you both. I'm going to go now."

After we end the call, I decide to get out of bed and go into the bathroom. I'm afraid to face Hayden and tell him how sorry I am for being unfit to hold a baby, for breaking our family, and failing as a woman and as a girlfriend. After putting the toothbrush back in its holder, I look down at my belly, slowly stroking it. "I'm sorry, I couldn't protect you."

I wash my face with cold water wanting to rid myself of the hot tears strolling down my cheeks before addressing Hayden. Not bothering to put any other clothes on, I make my way downstairs in search of Hayden. My search ended reasonably quickly when I find him in the lounge room, hunched over on the couch with his head in his hands. He still dressed in his outfit from yesterday, and that told me he hadn't gotten any sleep.

"Hey," I caress his back as I lower myself to sit on my knees before him. Ever so slowly, he lifts his head, straightening his back. His apprehension is written all over him. He's unsure of what he's going to have to deal with once he faces me, and I feel horrible about that. "Good morning."

"Morning." His response is cold and clipped and unlike the new him.

Flashes of last night play through my mind as I look up at him, and I begin to feel even more odious than I already did. I'm disgusted with myself forever getting to that point and for taking my pain out on Hayden. It's not that I drunk too much. I wanted to forget last night. I actively tried to repress the memories of my behavior.

"I'm sorry for everything, Hayden." I begin. "You didn't deserve any of what happened yesterday, my anger, my words, my abuse. I know this may mean nothing to you, but I am so sorry, baby."

"All I wanted was to talk with you, Alice." His voice is low, defeated, and I know I'm to blame. He tries so hard for me, and I can barely graze the surface of his sacrifices. He didn't come to bed last night because I told him not to, along with other unforgivable words.

"I know, I know, and I should have." I place my hands over his that are sitting on his lap. "I'm sorry I couldn't accept your efforts Hayden, I fought against you last night when I was fighting within myself. Do you want to talk now?"

"I don't think I'm up for it right now, Alice, I am exhau—" His voice breaks as he does his best to avoid crying. "I'm exhausted."

"Okay," I don't want to force him into anything. Pressing my lips into his hand, my eyes shut as I silently pray he forgives me. "You can sleep in the bed, Hayden."

"I have to work," He abruptly rises to his feet, causing my hands to drop from his and fall into my lap. The way he switches off his emotions brings me back to the old, callous Hayden. "We'll talk tonight over dinner."

I only nod, silently agreeing and sulking over the thought that didn't even give me a goodbye kiss. I can feel the sadness begin to overtake me as I watch him walk away, leaving me on the floor surrounded by the rose petals from yesterday's surprise.

____________________

I spent my entire morning and afternoon secreted in my study, reading article after article about missed miscarriages. I read about women relaying their experiences and others offering steps and advice on coping with the loss. Despite all of the reading I've done, I have yet to come to grips with why I have to decide on this. I'm left with these choices where the only result is pain and the expelling of our baby. I feel a heavy burden on my chest just thinking about this.

Light knocks sounded outside of the door and hoping it would be Hayden, I get up from the chair for the first time in hours and get the door. Unable to hide my disappointment from only seeing Mrs. Sutter, she apologizes, "I'm sorry to bother you, Miss Greene."

"Oh, please, don't apologize to me, Mrs. Sutter, you're never a bother. What's up?"

"I know you missed out on breakfast and lunch. I just wanted to let you know dinner is ready."

"Thank you, but I don't have an appetite today."

"How about water?" She extends a bottle out to me that I hadn't noticed beforehand. I begin to take it despite not wanting to drink the water. I know I need it because I've developed a slight headache from sitting at the computer for hours.

"She'll have dinner." Our heads both turn in the same direction to find Hayden standing a few feet from us. His sleeves are rolled, the top buttons of his shirt are undone, and he's barefoot, telling me he's been home for some time. His expression is grim, and I decide this is not a fight I want to pick with him.

"I'll set the table," She's quick to dismiss herself. Mrs. Sutter knows all too well whatever Hayden says goes, and there is no room for discussion.

"How long have you been back?" I check the time on my watch to see that it's nearly six. I spent the entire day on the computer.

"About an hour or so." He answers, standing before me with his arms folded over his chest. Not liking his dour posture, I lean against the doorframe, putting more space between us.

"Oh, where's Naomi?" She was supposed to come back this afternoon. I wonder what happened.

"Erika's, I didn't want her to see either of us this way." He answers my unasked question. "Why have you locked yourself in here?"

"I didn't intend to. I lost tra—"

He cuts me off with another question, "What were you doing?"

"Reading some articles." I feel like a child being scolded by their parent. I don't like this feeling. "Why are you questioning me like this?"

"I've been tense all fucking day. I shouldn't have left you to be on your own." His worry is showing through anger, but I'm sure that has a lot to do with his lack of sleep and the emotional stress he's been experiencing since yesterday. "Agonizing over you has distracted me from my work. I can't form a fucking thought about anything other than you, let alone try to work."

"I'm doing the best that I can, Hayden."

Rubbing the sides of his temple, he sighs, "It's not enough, Alice."

I'm afraid to ask what he means by that. I think he's saying my word isn't enough to stop him from worrying? Fearing his words could potentially mean something far worse, I put an end to the conversation for now. "Let's eat, please."

Being on the receiving end of Hayden's anger when it isn't misplaced is even more terrifying than him taking his anger with someone else out on me. I know that I've done wrong this time. Not only have I ruined our family, but I also disregarded his feelings and threw things at him all in one day. He wanted to mourn together over losing the baby, and all he got in return was me shitting on all of his emotions.

Staring down at my plate with my fork in hand, I can't bring myself to eat a single bite. I can feel Hayden's eyes on me, and I want to eat some so that he can stop worrying about me, but I feel sick just looking at the food. It feels as if I will vomit immediately after forcing one forkful into my mouth.

"I'm sorry, Hayden." When I finally allow myself to look up at him, I cannot see him through the blur of tears in my eyes. "I can't eat it."

"Jesus Alice, alright, don't force it then."

"I'm sorry." I find myself repeating through my tears. In seconds Hayden is by my side, forcing me to look up at him instead of burying my face in my hands.

"You don't have to keep apologizing to me." His tone of voice as he talks to me and his entire aura is different than when we first saw each other. In a matter of seconds, he's masked his previous feeling to soothe me. I rise from the chair, giving in to him as he pushes me into his embrace. I melt into his arms, no longer able to fight the truth I've been avoiding.

With his hands guiding my face attempting to get my attention, my eyes stray from his as I feel too ashamed to look at him. "Please don't hate me." I uncontrollably sob as I speak my fears aloud. "I don't know what I did wrong."

"I don't hate you, baby. There's nothing you can ever do or say that will make me hate you." His tone is reassuring, but I struggle with believing it after I've convinced myself he's unhappy with me and my inadequacy.  I bury my head back into his chest, my tears soaking through his shirt. "I promise you, Alice, I don't place the blame on you. Nothing could have gone differently, and you did not ruin our family. You are my family, Naomi is our family, and when the time is right, we can make another baby."

"But I wanted this one," I sob into his chest. "I gave up everything for this baby, and so we can be a family. I make sacrifice after sacrifice, and this is what I get in return."

His arms hug me tighter as his head drops, "It wasn't our time." He whispers through his tears.

"It wasn't our time," I repeat his hushed phrase, allowing it to become a mantra to change my mindset. Losing our baby was not my fault. It just wasn't our time.

When neither of us could finish dinner, Hayden decided he wanted to lie down in the bed, and I joined him, only desiring to be near him. He fell asleep shortly after getting into the bed, and it is one of the fastest times I have ever witnessed him fall into a deep sleep.

Unable to rest, I stare at the mirror above us, undoing the bottom buttons of his worn shirt. I slowly stroke the protrusion where the lifeless fetus was meant to grow, and silent tears escape me. I am not at fault. It wasn't our time.

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