Emergency
*This story contains mentions of suicide and graphic content
When I parked, I ran to her door and banged on it, calling her name. What if I was too late? I made up my mind to break the door down, but she opened it with a sinister smile.
“What the fuck, April?” I yelled.
“I knew you’d come.”
April pounced on me and hugged me tightly. I didn’t hug back.
“I knew you still loved me,” she squealed, pulling my arm towards the entrance of her apartment.
My feet were planted. She tried to move me but couldn’t. I knew what time it was. I spotted the lit-up candles from the doorway.
“Man, I gotta go.”
I pulled her hands off my arm. I couldn’t believe she did this shit again.
“Why? You are already here. Stay with me tonight,” she suggested.
April stood on the tips of her toes to make eye contact with me. I wouldn’t look at her. Even when she tried to pull my head down to face her, I didn’t.
“This is it. I can’t do this anymore. I won’t do this anymore. My wife is at home waiting for me and that’s where I’m going.”
“She wouldn’t even be your wife if it wasn’t for me. So how about you give me a little reward for the night,” she said, trying to get her hand in my pants.
I grabbed her hands and gently pushed her off me.
“Ouch, that hurt!”
I smacked my lips knowing damn well I barely touched her.
“Andre don’t be like that.”
“Look, April, I came over here as a friend. You sounded like you were seriously about to kill yourself. But this right here has got to stop. Monica was right about you. I should’ve kept my ass at home. This is the second time you’ve pulled this shit. There won’t be another. Lose my number.”
I walked to my car with her on my heels.
“Don’t talk to me about that bitch.”
“What your fucking mouth, April.”
“What are you going to do? Hurt me? It’s too late for that, dummy. You took everything from me and left me with nothing,” she yelled.
“Go on with that bullshit. We ain’t doing this no more. I’m done. The next time you decide to kill yourself, you better call 9-1-1 because I’m not falling for this shit no more.”
“You took everything, and you expect me to just be okay,” she said, pushing me.
By this time, her neighbor’s lights came on and I saw the blinds open a little.
“You need to calm down. You’re making a scene,” I told her.
“You can’t tell me what to do. You’re not my daddy. You’re nobody’s daddy now,” she said before quickly putting her hands over her mouth.
My heart skipped a beat, then raced.
“Oh my God, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that, Dre.”
“You know what, fuck you and your mental problems. Lose my fucking number.”
I got in my truck and drove off. She tried to stop me, and I was willing to run her ass over. Why the hell did I come here?
******************************
Sitting in the waiting room felt like a death sentence to my soul. It was the right thing to do, but it felt wrong. April held my hand so tight, it was becoming numb. We locked eyes together. Her tears hurt like hell. I knew how she felt, but we had to fix this.
“Babe trust me, we will have another opportunity to make this happen. Now is not the right time. One day it will be,” I said, wiping the tears from her face.
She gave in and laid her head on my chest.
“I trust you,” she whispered.
I held her tighter.
“Ms. Lawrence,” the nurse called out.
I felt April’s heart sink because mine did the same. She kissed me and followed the nurse behind the white door.
Our near future was planned out and a baby wasn’t part of it. We agreed that right now wouldn’t work for the big picture. We were both in school with only a few months until graduation. I already had a job waiting for me. April wanted to be a teacher. She loved kids and I loved that about her. She would be the perfect mother to our children, but our children needed to wait until we had everything right. Our careers and lives haven’t even started. We were barely old enough to drink and had plenty of time for all this down the line.
I played solitaire on my phone until she walked slowly back out into the waiting area. She looked like she’d never stopped crying. I walked to her and she softly pushed me away. April looked at me like she hated me. I thought this was the best option for us. I knew it was. She knew it was. Maybe she needed time. I will just give her time.
******************************
“When are you going to forgive me for it? It’s been over a year,” I yelled.
“You insensitive bastard. That was a human being inside of my body. You told me to do it and like an idiot I did it,” she countered.
Why do we keep having this argument? I knew this would be hard to come back from but damn.
“Look, what’s done is done. We have to move on. You gotta stop flipping on me. One day you’re okay and the next you do this. We made the decision together. I didn’t put a gun to your head. Stop playing the fucking victim. We did this.”
I felt a sting on my face as soon as the words exited my mouth. She slapped me.
“Get out,” she screamed.
I stood there glaring at her. I would never put my hands on her, but she had never put her hands on me. This was not the woman I fell in love with. She was long gone. This was not us. The April I knew died aborting our baby.
***************************
I held my wife tight. I couldn’t help but cry because this felt like God was punishing me for my past. Monica was suffering from something I did. It had nothing to do with her, but she was paying the price because I am her husband. We cried together in our bed until the morning. I was working from home the next few days to be with her. In my office after the morning rundown, my phone rang but I didn’t answer the first two times. It wouldn’t stop.
“Hello?” I answered the unknown call.
“Hey, Andre. It’s been a while,” the woman said.
My jaw clenched.
“April, it’s not a good time. I hope everything is good with you but right now, I can’t talk.”
“Look, I saw your mom’s post online and wanted to check on you,” she said.
“Yeah, okay. I am okay. We are okay. Thank you.”
“Why are you talking to me like that? I know the pain your woman is feeling. So, I— “
“Monica is not my woman, she is my wife. What you and I did and what she and I are going through is not the same thing, okay.”
“Seriously? That’s how you talk to me after all this time?”
“You just stopped harassing my wife three months ago. I don’t want you to use our pain as an excuse to contact me. Monica and I are good. Don’t call me no more.”
“Nigga, who you tryna fool? You made me kill my baby and now you and your so-called wife can’t keep one. Which one is this? Like number four or something. I’m glad she can’t get pregnant by your evil ass. You killed our baby and think you can just have one with someone else just as easy like nothing ever happened. Well, that’s what your punk ass gets. I hope— “
My phone went flying across the room until the wall stopped it. It’s been seven years since that happened and I’ve been married for the last four. The decision we made has haunted me every time Monica got pregnant and so has April. She texted and called for months at a time and then stopped, only to start again soon after. When will she ever get it through her head that I had moved on a long time ago? I didn’t regret the breakup, but I always thought of the child I would’ve had.
The sacrifice we made allowed me to have a successful career, but April spiraled into unprofessionally diagnosed depression. She went crazy every time I dated anyone. She couldn’t get over the baby and stopped caring, which is why she kicked me out a year ago. There’s no helping her anymore. I have tried even after I met Monica. April thought everything was a game, acting like I am playing along with life as if our baby was going to come back for us to be a happy family.
Monica knew everything that happened between me and April. She sympathized with her in the beginning, but April took it too far by threatening Monica. I tried to protect my wife from dealing with her, but for a long time, I did feel guilty. Whenever April needed to talk, I’d talk to her or stop by to check on her. She seemed unstable. She hasn’t dated since us. I wish she’d move on. Forgive me and herself and just move on.
This was our third miscarriage. Monica was taking it extremely hard, rightfully so. After the first two, April would text her nasty texts saying she deserved it since Monica took me away from her. It was all kinds of nonsense that Monica knew better than to believe, but lately, I wasn’t sure of anything. She didn’t talk to me as much. She stopped sleeping in our room. Whenever we’d argue, I felt she wanted to say it was my fault, but it seemed like she always stopped herself.
****************************
It had almost been a year since we’ve seriously tried to get pregnant. Monica didn’t want to see a fertility doctor for fear that she would be told she was incapable of carrying a child. Losing pregnancies took a major toll on us, but we were getting along better in the past few months. Her eyes told me that she loved me again. Right when things got good, that dark cloud came back around.
April started to call me in the middle of the night threatening to kill herself. Monica made me go check on her whenever she cried wolf. Each time was a lie. I kept trying to help April, but it became a waste of time. She was starting to act like I owed her my life and my time. She insisted that I was the reason why she never recovered from the abortion. She took no accountability and hated me for having a good life with my wife. She called one time too many and I was done.
After last night, I realized that I was the current problem in April’s life. I kept showing up. If I showed her that I would not be there anymore, maybe she’d take the hint and stop all this nonsense. I blocked her number, didn’t answer unknown numbers, and told Monica to do the same. It had been a peaceful few weeks ever since.
Today was the best day we’ve had in a while. Monica and I were driving back from dinner. We went to the beach earlier to walk in the sand and just be. The night couldn’t get any better. On the way home, April was blowing up my phone. I was about to turn it off before Monica grabbed it from me.
“April, if you don’t mind, I would love to have peace with my husband tonight. It’s not a good time,” she told her.
She smiled at me with her index finger up letting me know she’d handle April.
Seconds later, her smile disappeared, and her eyes squinted.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
She took the phone from her ear. “I think you may need to check on her. She said she has a gun.”
“She always says that though.”
“Yeah but she sounds a little drugged or something. She sounds bad. Just go by there, I will stay in the car. I don’t want the one time you didn’t check on her to be the time she actually goes through with it. How would that make you feel?” she said with the phone away from her mouth.
“Monica, we have gone through this I don’t how many times. If she is calling to tell me she is going to kill herself, it’s a front. Someone truly suicidal will just do it. She just wants attention.”
She put the phone to her ear.
“That’s harsh, Andre. Well, at least talk to her and see if you want to or not. I trust your judgment,” she whispered, still covering the speaker on the phone.
“Fine.” I took the phone.
“Hello,” I said.
“I heard you…talking about…me…to that bitch,” she slurred.
“Don’t do that. I told you about that. You sound drunk.”
“You tell her she can never have my baby. She took you, but she can’t take my baby.”
She laughed maniacally.
“Man, you sound real crazy right now. Are you drunk? Did you take something?” I asked.
“Oh, oh, so now…you want to…worry about April.”
It got quiet for a few moments.
“Where were you when I needed you? Huh? Where were you then?” she screamed.
“Look you need to calm down. I’m going to call you an ambulance if you don’t tell me what you took.”
“I didn’t take nothing worse than what you took from me,” she yelled.
“Mmm hmm. And you are going to pay for it today. I’m done with all this shit. I don’t want to be here anymore. I want to be with our baby. You never let me meet him or her. You did this,” she said.
“April stop! Look, don’t do anything crazy. Monica said you have a gun.”
“Yep. I do,” she said whimpering.
I heard the cock.
“Whoa, whoa. You gotta chill, April. Look, I know that I hurt you, but you need to think about what you are doing. I am sorry. I hate that this happened, but we have to deal with it another way.”
I started heading towards her place.
“You want me to call the police?” Monica whispered. I shook my head ‘no’. I could handle this.
“Don’t be sorry now, Andre. Now you will pay for every tear I’ve cried. I love my family. I have the best mom and I wanted to be the same for my kids. My dad was there when you weren’t. But they can’t bring my baby back. I love my family, but I hate you. I will never forgive you. Never! And I hope this haunts you for the rest of your life.”
“What? What are you–”
The gun went off.
Monica heard it and panicked. She called the police.
“April? April? Naw, she didn’t do that. She just shot the gun to make me think she did it. April, I know you’re there. Answer me. April.”
“They need the address, Andre,” Monica’s voice trembled.
“For what? She always does this. She just shot the gun. I can hear her breathing.”
“Just give it to me anyway. Somebody could get hurt.”
She had a point, so I told her the address.
Minutes later we pulled up to the gate. I put in the code and drove to her building. The police weren’t there yet. April’s neighbors were by her apartment. Monica and I walked through them.
“We heard a gunshot. No one is answering the door. We called the police,” some older woman said.
There was an envelope taped to her front door with my name written on it in red marker. I opened it. It had a key and a letter inside. I got the key out and tried to use it to unlock the door. It worked.
Monica followed me into the apartment. Once we passed the kitchen and entered the living room, she screamed. April’s blood was splattered on the wall behind the couch where her body was slumped over. Her phone was on the floor and the gun was next to it.
“YOU DID THIS” was written on the same blood-splattered wall.
My knees hit the floor.
I did.
Note: If you feel you are in crisis, please call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline. It is a free, 24-hour hotline, at 1.800.273.TALK (8255). Your call will be connected to the crisis center nearest to you. If you are in an emergency, call 911 or go to your nearest emergency room.
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