The One That Got Away

He should have known that Monique wouldn’t put up with that old brand of self-pity. Enzo almost cowered under the look she fixed him with—this forceful mix of compassionate and brook-no-arguments intense—and all he could think was that this was the kind of tough love that her own child would have benefited from. He felt a vague regret for her loss; she and her husband had thrown away any chance of trying again with their stupid, juvenile behavior but Enzo knew from his own experience that grief made you do stupid things.

“None of what happened was your fault,” Monique insisted as she stared him down. “Emily would hate to hear you talk like that.”

“I know,” he agreed. He’d had that argument with himself once or twice.

“So if she can’t call you out, I will.” Monique pulled her shoulders back, swiped the drying tracks on her cheeks, and generally tried to look less pitiful and more resolute.

The amused glint in Enzo’s eyes told her that she’d pulled it off. “Lucky for me,” he grinned, shifting over to her side and looping an arm across her shoulders.

They settled into a pensive silence that Enzo interrupted with a friendly kiss against her crown and a simple, hushed affirmation. “This su*ks, huh?”

“Yeah,” Monique mused. Being home was a relief, but it was a complicated one—living in the day-to-day reality of her secrets was hard. The truth was that Emily would call Enzo out for a lot of things, but not for this. She’d internalize instead—feel guilty that Enzo felt guilty—so as far as Monique was concerned it was her job to keep his guilt from festering. Someone had to make sure that, at least one person came out of this hell hole whole and somewhat happy.

The harder truth was that her miscarriage felt like more than just a loss, and lately when she looked at her life she visualized what it might have been like had she done things differently.

“Hey,” Enzo nudged, pulling Monique from her train of thought. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we make a pretty good team.”

Monique nodded her agreement; waited for him to continue.

“So what do you say we both work on it? Together.” His fingers pressed gently against the knotted muscles in her back. “It’s pretty foolproof; I already know you can kick my ass in gear.”

Monique laughed despite herself. She knew it couldn’t be as simple as that—not when she had to withhold so much from him. But the more Monique tried to grapple with things alone, the more she needed something solid to hold on to. He could be that for her.

“Okay,” she offered, sending him a tentative smile. “Deal.”

Enzo returned her smile with a full-fledged grin. “Okay,” he echoed, voice tinged with relief. He must have found reassurance when he searched her eyes, because he waited just a single, careful beat before putting that deal in action. “How ’bout you give me a baby step, Monique. Where’s your head right now?”

Monique’s throat caught at the question and she closed her stinging eyes. She couldn’t stomach another lie, but she had two basic truths—they were real, no matter how complicated the webs behind them were.

“I want Emily to be here,” she told him. “I’m tired of losing people I love.”

Enzo’s hand closed around hers, with a barely-there tremble in his touch that vanished when he grasped tighter. “Yeah,” he sighed. “Me too.”

Her secrets were isolating—they prickled under her skin where no one could reach; they turned into outright deceptions that weighed heavily on Monique’s shoulders. But the details were the main problem. Underneath that, there was just loss, and that was something she knew Derek understood. They all did. Her secrets might be deeper now, and Monique hated that. But somehow, strangely, it made her feel less alone.