“What’s the matter?”
He turned from the window. Slowly, he reached out and ran one finger down her cheek, traced the lush curve of her lower lip, pressed his thumb into the thundering pulse point at the base of her neck.
“You didn’t cry.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t want to have this discussion about children again.”
He shook his head. “I admit you surprised me, and yes, I’m upset. But it’s more than that, Miranda. You didn’t shed one tear the entire evening. When the doctor told us Stephen would be okay, I saw your face. You wanted to cry—hell, you needed to cry—but you couldn’t. Same thing after Pagliacci. You practically shook with the need to let go. You’ve shut down your emotions to such an extent that I don’t know what to do anymore to break through.”
She stepped back, looking like a trapped wild animal. “So I didn’t cry. I still feel things. I’m not a cold human being who can’t experience emotions. There are many people who don’t cry.”
“Baby, you know what I’m talking about,” he said softly. “You hold back. It’s as if something else happened to you. Something you won’t share.”
She sucked in her breath. Closed her eyes. Clenched her fists and trembled.
The words came out in a rush. “There was a baby, Gavin. Our baby.”
…
Miranda spoke the words and a bone-deep relief rushed through her body. How many times had she dreamed about telling him? Wished he’d hold her in his arms and they could mourn the loss together? She tried to protect him from the truth since it was too late, but realized now she owed him everything. He had a right to know what happened after he left. The lock on her carefully cultivated control crashed open and left her with a writhing, snarling monster mess.
He stiffened. Slowly turned around. Shock widened his eyes and he staggered over to the couch to grasp the edge. “What did you say?” he whispered.
The naked vulnerability and wild hope on his face sliced at her flesh like knives. “I never wanted you to know,” she whispered. “Not when it was too late.”
His olive skin turned bone white as he processed her response. “Tell me. Everything.”
Miranda gave a jerky nod. Her skin grew clammy and cold, and her stomach churned. Maybe he’d finally understand why she’d never be the woman he walked away from.
She recited the story with no emotion, as if relaying someone else’s experience. “After you left me, I got sick. I went to the doctor and he told me I was pregnant.”
“You were on the pill.”
“Yes, but remember when I got food poisoning on those oysters? I threw up for almost three days. I never thought I wouldn’t be protected, just kept continuing to take my pill. But I was stupid, so stupid, and I paid for that mistake.”
“Did you plan on telling me?”
She lifted her chin. “No. That was the day I got your email.” A bitter laugh escaped her lips. “Obviously, you weren’t ready to be a daddy, let alone have a committed relationship. I decided to keep the baby and do it myself.”
He rubbed his eyes with his knuckles, as if trying to wake up from a bad dream. “What happened to the baby, Miranda?”
She finished the story dry-eyed. “I kept my pregnancy a secret and planned. I figured I’d work mostly from home and we’d be fine.”
He choked and murmured something under his breath but she pushed on.
“I was twelve weeks when I miscarried. I was waiting to get to that mark, you see, because all the books say you have the biggest chance of miscarriage within the first twelve weeks. I almost made it. But I started bleeding heavily in the middle of the night, and I didn’t know what to do. I called 911 and they rushed me to the hospital. I lost the baby a few hours later.”
She stared sightlessly past him, seeing the pale green hospital walls, the scurry of nurses back and forth, the soft voice of the therapist lecturing her about grief and postpartum. She remembered leaving without her baby. Without anything but a cold, empty space she knew would never be filled again.
The silence pulsed with unspoken demons and broken promises. “Now you know why I don’t want children. I never want that type of grief again. If you want to punish me for my lack of bravery, go ahead. But you’re not the one who had to do it all alone.”
His shattered expression punched through her chest and squeezed her heart. He moved toward her and then she was in his arms. His grip was so tight it became almost painful, but she hung on to his warmth in a desperate attempt to save the last of her soul. They clung to one another for endless minutes, and for the first time, some of the aching loneliness seeped away in his embrace.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, baby.” He kissed her temple, stroked her hair, rocking her gently. “I didn’t know. Jesus, please forgive me, I didn’t know.”
She let him hold her until the last of the anger dissipated. He was finally here, back in her arms. All of those fantasies night after night of him coming back and stating he made a terrible mistake finally came true.
When he released her, tear tracks streaked his cheeks. She wiped them away with her fingers, but when he looked into her eyes, a cold, hard ball of lead settled in the pit of her stomach. She glimpsed grief. Pain. Regret.
The worst was the grim resolution on his face.
“I understand now,” he said.
Panic nipped at her and she suddenly realized her confession had broken something fragile between them.
“No wonder you’ve changed. I left you all alone to deal with a baby, and treated you like someone disposable.” A choking sound came from his throat. “All this time I thought you were too afraid to open yourself up. But how could you ever trust me again? I abandoned you.”
She stepped toward him. “No, Gavin, it’s not like that.” Self-disgust curled his sensual lips. She watched as her lover drifted further away, caught up in a raw guilt she didn’t know how to heal. “Please listen to me. I don’t blame you anymore. It was my choice not to track you down. My choice to keep the baby and do it alone. I never gave you an opportunity to take any action, and that’s not your fault.”
He shook his head. “I didn’t give you a chance to tell me. I only cared about myself. My dreams. I walked away from something good and pure. I thought I could win you back. Prove myself. Instead, I dredged up the past and hurt you even more. I’m so stupid.” Moisture shown in his eyes and he blinked it away. “I was sure I’d convince you to go with me. I had this fucking happy-ever-after ending in my head, where I tell you I love you, and you jump on the plane.”
He loved her. Did she believe it was enough this time? Why was the image of following him suddenly so vivid? Why did it fill her up with raw need instead of scorn? Reality twisted before her until she didn’t know her true North anymore.
A dozen responses stuck in her throat. Her feet froze to the floor.
He drew himself up to full height. Determination and resolve flickered in those aqua blue eyes. Her heart thrummed madly in her chest.
“I don’t know if I can ever forgive myself for what I did to you. God knows, I understand why you can’t. But I love you. I will do anything you need to prove myself and make up for the past. I won’t leave you again.”
Her palms grew damp. The breath came choppy from her throat. “You only have a few weeks left.”
“I’ll stay.”
The words tore her flesh like bullets. She squeezed her eyes shut in pure agony. He’d stay. For her. But at what sacrifice? So he could resent her forever for not going after his real dream? For trapping him into a relationship because of his guilt over the baby? No, not like this. “I don’t want you to stay,” she forced out.
“Then I’ll take you with me. We’ll work it out. All you have to do is take a leap of faith. I swear to God, Miranda, I’ll never give you another reason to distrust me again.”