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Roy did not go to Marbella. Why would he? Keeley may have suggested he go to relax and enjoy, but he’d planned it for the two of them. He planned it to be with her, to see her frolic in the surf in a barely-there bikini, to wake up to her sun-kissed face, to be her waiter with fresh coffee and smoothies as she worked on being the kick-ass CEO of his dreams on the patio.
He didn’t want to be alone. Why would he ever want to be alone when the alternative was to have Keeley Jones in his daily life?
But staying in Richmond? She hadn’t been kidding. He’d barely seen her, to the point he felt she was avoiding him, and his doubt… his doubt began to creep up on him again. She said they’d be fine, but maybe that had been a platitude. Maybe it was her way of letting him go gently. Maybe she’d wanted him to go to Marbella to get him used to the idea that she wouldn’t be next to him anymore. So, he let her have her way. He let her be busy. He texted that first week and made sure she knew he was there any time she needed him, but he didn’t push. She seemed to appreciate him giving her space, and she apologized for how unavailable she was. He’d give it time.
That is, until Rebecca texted him.
Keeley’s not answering me. Is she with you?
No
I tried calling her. No answer either. Roy, can you please go check on her?
While he tried contacting Keeley first, Roy, dutifully, did exactly as Rebecca wished. His hackles were raised. Not contacting him was one thing, but Rebecca too?
Arriving at her place, he saw her parked car and her kitchen lights on, but there was no answer when he rang the doorbell repeatedly. For the first time a different kind of fear crept through his nervous system. His rarely used key made an appearance and he rushed through the door.
“Keeley!” He did a quick scan of the main floor before taking the stairs three by three. In a flash, he was in the bathroom, the wind instantly knocked out of him. Keeley was passed out on the floor in the fetal position, a pool of blood trailing behind her.
Looking back, Roy couldn’t tell you what he did between that moment to the point where he handed Keeley to the A&E staff and muttered something about how he found her.
Once they rushed her off, he sat down harshly and came to on his own hospital gurney, having passed out from fear and stress. Shooting up off the bed and nearly passing out again from lightheadedness, he shouted, running into the waiting room, “Keeley? Where the fuck is Keeley?”
After three interns managed to calm him, a doctor approached him. “Roy Kent?” He did not wait for confirmation. “Come with me.”
Roy’s first sight of Keeley almost caused him to pass out yet again, but he held the door frame and willed himself to be strong for her. She was pale and small and hooked up to an IV but her eyes flickered open and she smiled.
“Hi babe. Thanks for finding me, getting me here.”
“Rebecca’s your angel. Told me to go check on you.”
“I have two guardian angels, yeah?”
Roy walked over to her and kissed her forehead, holding her hand gently. “What the fuck happened, Keeley?”
Keeley closed her eyes, pressing her lips together. Roy could see them quivering and he was about to tell her that she didn’t need to tell him anything, but her big eyes opened, glassy and sad, she squeezed his hand tightly and quietly said, “I miscarried.”
He’d barely had time to process her words in his mind, but his body… his body tensed immediately, an instinctive, visceral reaction. An instant sob stuck in the middle of his throat. His “Jesus Christ,” was barely audible.
After several moments of silence, Roy’s eyes having searched the room for some kind of explanation, avoiding everything but Keeley’s gaze, trying to comprehend what it all meant, he finally focused on the fact that Keeley needed something from him. “Christ, I’m so sorry, Keeley. I wish I’d been there. Could’ve helped more.”
“You couldn’t prevent it. You got me here. Tha’s all that’s important.”
Roy didn’t know what to say beyond this. He was trying to process the fact that Keeley had been pregnant with his child and they’d had no clue. That they had hardly seen each other, that he wasn’t there to care for her, that they had created the beginning of a life together from their love. What did it mean? Did he want children? Did it matter? Here she was, in front of him, recovering and his mind had drifted to a million different questions instead of concentrating on her in her moment of need.
“You okay? How’re you feeling? Does it hurt?”
‘Yeah. It hurts, but the meds are dulling things.” He didn’t know if she meant physically or emotionally.
“Keeley, I … I’d no idea. I would’ve helped. I could’ve been fucking there for you.”
“Shhhh, Roy. You had no way of knowing. You’re here now.”
And then he saw the tears leaking out of the corner of her eyes, flowing down her cheeks, and something painful in her gaze. It killed something inside of him. He had done this to her. He was putting her through this. He’d gotten her pregnant at a time when her life was taking off, when she should have been focused on her dreams, her career, herself. She should have been thriving but instead he’d found her in pool of blood and now, now she had to recover from all of this.
She’d had a life inside her and now it was gone. Had she even known? Had she suspected? How long? But these weren’t questions he was willing to ask. None of his business unless she wanted to tell him. But it was his baby. They could’ve had a baby. He never really thought about it. But again, he thought, did he want a child? What would it mean? It would have been terrifying. He’d already been worried he wasn’t enough, maybe it would only have made things worse. But, it would have been theirs…
And without even knowing it, tears streamed down his cheeks, evidence of a deep pain he didn’t know he could feel, didn’t know was possible, and that he was trying to keep inside so as to not further upset Keeley. Only when Keeley closed her eyes and started to sob did it dawn on him that his emotions were outwardly visible.
And so, he held her and kissed her gently and whispered, “I’m so sorry, Keeley. I love you. I love you, I love you...” over and over until she finally quieted and slept from exhaustion.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next few days, Roy took phenomenal care of her. He got her everything she needed. He made sure she got the best treatment. When she was sent home, he waited on her hand and foot. He ensured her every whim was fulfilled.
But they avoided talking about what had happened beyond her recovering physically and what was needed. He didn’t question her when she wanted her laptop and phone and dove straight back into her work. He understood the need to bury pain and focus on what was outwardly needed. He had often done the same when he played football – any emotional trauma was buried down and the only sign of suffering was his determination and anger on the pitch.
But Keeley buried her heartache in positivity, professionalism and work. It was admirable but also painful to watch. Roy wanted to help her with her burden, wanted to alleviate her suffering, but she wasn’t letting him in, she wasn’t admitting to any grief. It scared him. Keeley not sharing? She was pulling away. She wasn’t communicating her sadness, and he didn’t have the emotional tools to trigger her into sharing her load with him. He felt he was failing her. He wasn't enough.
They were drifting apart even though he was there for her. There hadn’t been any intimacy and they had become less tactile, hardly touching, compared to before when they could hardly pass the other without some necessary but incidental contact. He saw pain in Keeley’s eyes but she wouldn’t acknowledge it, and he didn’t know how to ask.
Finally, after a visit with Rebecca, he found her eyes rimmed red, her skin blotchy. She had had a proper emotional therapy session with her best friend and as relieved as Roy was that Keeley was able to emote and admit pain, he was envious that it hadn’t been with him. It did, however, give him an opening.
“Oi. You okay? You look upset.”
“Just… girl talk.”
“Keeley…”
Keeley gave Roy that wide-eyed innocent look that he always fell for, that allowed her to always get her way without him pushing. But it was time, time for something. He was going to wait her out, sitting silently next to her as she looked down, shifting in her chair and taking a breath. He had just about given up and was about to leave the room when she finally started to talk, but not about herself. “Rebecca always wanted to be a mother, did you know that? She never told me before. I just assumed she was happy with her life, yeah? She said she told Rupert before they married. ‘Parently, he hadn’t given her a straight answer but she was too madly in love to notice.”
Roy nodded. “Not surprised. He’s a fucking prick.”
“Do you want children?”
There it was. The directness of the question took him by surprise. This was not where he wanted the conversation to go. Not to his feelings. He wanted her to talk about happened to her. However, he tried to be straight.
“I… I dunno. I hadn’t really ever thought about until…” He trailed off, not needing to finish the sentence.
“Yeah. Me neither, but then, all of a sudden, I had to think about it, didn’t I?”
Roy nodded in agreement and then thought more about those words. “So, you knew?”
Keeley’s eyes went wide as if she’d just revealed something she never intended. She didn’t lie though. She nodded softly.
“How… how long did you know?”
“A few weeks.”
Roy looked down. His thick lashes hiding his hurt from Keeley. She hadn’t wanted to tell him.
Suddenly the floodgates opened and Keeley needed him to know the whole truth. “I … I wasn’t sure what to do. Was trying to figure things out. It was the wrong time, Roy,” she expressed with a hint of defensiveness even though he hadn’t said a word.
“Everything was going right with my career. I needed to focus on that… but a baby? With you? That wasn’t a bad thing, was it? But it was, yeah? I’d never thought about it. I wasn’t ready. We’d never discussed the future, what we wanted. Our goals together. But this was up to me, Roy.” Again, the defensiveness was evident though Roy still hadn’t uttered a word of protest.
She had no need to worry. He nodded in understanding. “It was. Your body. Your choice.”
“Exactly. I’m so glad you understand.”
And she stopped. She had let all that out and Roy had answered with what she wanted to hear and it was obvious she had no desire to hear anything further.
But what may have helped Keeley only served to hurt Roy. But he couldn’t let her know. He wouldn’t cause her any more pain. In his misguided mind, she just revealed to him that she didn’t trust him, that she couldn’t look to him for help and that she was ready to handle the situation as an individual, rather than as a couple. But he needed to handle his own ego. She was the one who had experienced the mental and physical pain, who had debated the pros and cons on her own. She had been through hell. He would give her peace.
And he did not lie. He completely felt it was her body, her choice, but… but… he wished she could have felt comfortable enough to share her concerns with him, her fears. He wished that she wanted it to be their choice, not just hers. From what she said and what she didn’t say, and Roy's belief that he was undeserving, he came to the conclusion that deep down she knew he wasn’t good enough for her. She wasn't comfortable in communicating her worries to him, her need for a different future than what fate had dealt them. And if he wasn’t worthy of her, he was also unworthy of being the father of her child if the time ever did come. She made her decision on her own and may never have told him. He only knew because her body had made the decision for her.
And so, these thoughts clouded his head. Thoughts he would never share. He'd never let anyone know. He'd keep them all inside. The sadness at the idea that they’d almost become a family. The sadness that it wasn’t what she wanted. The sadness that he had caused her pain at a time she couldn’t afford distractions, let alone despondency. And it showed him a self-fulfilling prophecy. That she’d be better off without him. That it was his time to step away before she regretted staying with him.
And so, as she became more embedded in her work schedule, more dedicated to dealing with her company than with her grief, he distanced himself bit by bit. What he noticed was that she didn't really stop him, further confirming the fact that it was the right thing to do. Finally, when he had the nerve to talk to her about it, her schedule had become even more manic, and their decision to slow things down, to take a break, was done impersonally, by text.
And then finally the day came. He would take the final step. “We need to tell Phoebe we’ve broken up…”