While I Was Losing Our Baby, He Was Celebrating Her Dog’s Puppies Chapter 08

While I Was Losing Our Baby, He Was Celebrating Her Dog’s Puppies Chapter 08

By the time I received my share of the divorce settlement, I had already become a war correspondent.

Monica had been right.

It was dangerous here.

I had seen footage from war zones all over social media, but it was not until I stood in one myself that I truly understood how terrifying war could be.

The people who lived here spent every day wondering whether the next second would cost them their lives or their homes.

Or their friends and families.

All I could do was report what was happening on the ground, help more people understand the truth of this place, and document the stories of those who could not tell them themselves.

Sometimes, I helped the medical team carry the wounded or distribute supplies.

I told children who had lost their parents, children who had known nothing but war since birth, about the world beyond this place.

I told them that as long as they stayed alive, there was still a chance they would make it out one day.

Maybe living so close to death made everyone here value life more.

No matter how hard things became, they still tried to make each day count.

They changed me too.

I stopped replaying my marriage in my head.

I stopped letting Ethan and the past control the life I still had.

Then one day, a coworker told me someone was outside asking for me.

I knew immediately who it was.

Sure enough, when I pushed aside the tent flap and stepped outside, Ethan was standing in the dust with an old duffel bag in his hand.

Our camp was in a remote area, and I had no idea how he had found me.

Ethan had once been a serious germaphobe who never allowed a speck of dirt on his clothes.

Now he was covered in dust.

Several strands of his hair had been singed, and he looked as if he had not shaved in days.

The jacket that had once fit him perfectly now hung loose on his frame.

The moment he saw me, his entire body seemed to relax, as if he had finally confirmed that I was still alive.

He lifted a hand toward me, then stopped.

“Erin, you’re alive. Thank God. I heard this area was bombed yesterday and that a lot of people died. I was losing my mind with worry… I know what happened to the baby and your parents now. I’m a bastard. I did this to you. Come home with me, okay? It’s too dangerous here.”

I did not react.

“Ethan, we’re divorced. Who are you to ask me to go anywhere with you? And what makes you think I would give up my dream again just to make your life easier and go back to being your unpaid housekeeper? I like my work. It has shown me that my life can mean something, that marriage and a man don’t have to take up my entire world. I’m not going with you.”

Ethan lowered his head in shame.

“I know. I know how much you gave up for me. The truth is, I never loved Blair. The passion in her voice whenever she talked about her career reminded me of who you used to be. I was wrong about everything.”

I laughed once.

“So you do remember that I used to get excited about my dreams. But over and over, you used love and family to talk me into giving up my own life. I don’t regret loving you. But when I saw what you had written on that envelope for Blair, I finally realized what a fool I’d been. You knew exactly how to support and respect someone else’s dream. You just never did it for me. Stop making excuses.”

I pointed at him.

“You wanted a wife to handle every detail of your life, and you also wanted to keep sleeping with another woman. My baby isn’t coming back. Neither are my parents. So I will never forgive you.”

Temperatures here drop fast at night, and there are no spare beds. If you don’t want something to happen to you, leave as soon as you can. Stay away from me.”

Then I turned and went back into the tent.

Behind me, Ethan spoke quietly.

“Erin, I have no right to ask for your forgiveness. I only want to pay for what I’ve done.”

Ethan did not leave.

He pitched his own tent and stayed on as a field doctor, treating injuries and emergencies with the medical team.

He never came over to bother me.

But every morning, a thermal food container appeared outside my tent.

The food inside was still warm.

I never touched it.

I gave it away every time.

We lived in the same camp, but we barely spoke and no longer interfered in each other’s lives.

Then one day, I was taking a picture of a little girl when a violent roar tore through the air overhead.

“Erin, watch out!”

The next second, an explosion threw me several yards away.

My ears rang from the blast, and warm blood dripped onto my neck.

Ethan was dead.

He had shoved me out of the way and been hit by the shrapnel himself.

I had shielded the little girl with my body, and she was unharmed.

In that moment, I did not know what I felt.

Three years later, the newsroom sent another correspondent to replace me, and I returned to Seattle as assistant news director.

Before I left, I visited Ethan’s grave and placed a daisy folded from old paper in front of his headstone.

“Resources are limited here. The little girl you saved that day asked me to bring this to you. She wanted me to thank you. Ethan, I have no right to forgive you on behalf of the child who never had the chance to be born, or on behalf of my parents. As for me, I don’t hate you anymore. This is where it ends for us. Goodbye.”

The End