he was here. She knew his presence was not an answer to the problems that still awaited her.
But it was right for him to be present.
In a sweeping rush, their daughter was born.
Chapter 31
Amanda held her daughter to her breast. For several long minutes, she was lost in joy and wonder. Until she became aware of Logan, still sitting quietly beside her.
He wasn't holding her hand any longer. Sudden doubt flooded her. Had it all been a charade—his appearance, his care and concern? A show of comfort to ease her through the pain of childbirth?
Then she caught his gaze, and had to flinch back from what she saw.
Hunger. Naked and vulnerable. His hands were clasped tightly between his spread knees, as if they might do something inappropriate if let loose. But he wanted to reach for his daughter.
Her heart contracted.
Even if he didn't know it, he wanted to love again.
And she would have to be the one to offer him the gift of love. No matter what the cost to herself.
The price would be high. Now that he was here with her again, she knew she'd never stopped loving him. She'd let pride and stubbornness blind her to the truth, but the truth never changed.
Her love would trap her in a lifetime of pain. She'd hurt every time she saw him, and in all the moments between his visits.
But, if she truly loved him, she had to do this for him.
She hugged her baby for one last time as a unit of two. Mother and daughter.
A final reality washed over her.
She would also make this effort for her baby, who deserved a father.
Amanda drew in a deep breath of courage.
She lifted the baby she held in the crook of her arm, so Logan could see her face.
"Oh, my God." His words came out reverently, like a prayer. "Amanda." He raised his eyes to hers. "You don't have to want me. But I need this baby." He stopped, swallowed, and blinked rapidly.
She handed over their daughter.
"Thank you," he murmured in his deep voice. "She's so beautiful."
Tears spurted in Amanda's eyes. She knew she had to broach this subject now, while his defenses were down."I want to name her Laura," she said.
Logan's jaw dropped, and he immediately buried his face against the baby's head. A long moment of silence stretched between them.
When he finally looked up, his expression made her want to cry. "You know," he said, his voice low.
"Mrs. MacDonald told me this morning."
"I'm sorry," he said. "I have never talked about it."
"I understand. Some things don't get any better with talk." Her father flashed through her mind. No words would bring him back, or lessen the grief she felt. At least she had her mom and Julie. How much worse the loss must have been for Logan.
A nurse approached. "We need to clean up the baby." She held out her arms. "I'll bring her right back, I promise."
Mrs. MacDonald stood up. "I'll go with you. It'll be good to stretch my legs."
Amanda could see Logan's reluctance as he handed over his daughter. He watched them leave the room before turning back to Amanda. "My sister's name was Lauren," he said. "You know that, right?"
"Mrs. MacDonald told me. She was a singer, she said."
He nodded. "Up and coming rock star." He knotted his hands together. "My parents were professional musicians. Symphony caliber. They played for the Boston Pops."
"I'm sorry for your loss, Logan." The words were inadequate, but they still needed to be said.
"You know that night you gave me the blow job?"
She nodded, trying to remain calm, but her heart thundered. His eyes were bleak, his mouth strained. He wasn't remembering sex.
"That was the anniversary of their deaths." He swallowed a bitterness that twisted his mouth. "I always visit the cemetery near Boston."
"Logan," she whispered. There was nothing to say in the face of such pain.
"The graves—" He bowed his head. "It was all I had left."
"You told me Mrs. MacDonald visited her husband at the same time," she whispered. "They all died together. How awful." Amanda remembered him saying, "She has farther to go." As if any part of their sorrow could be measured. But that was the way his analytical mind worked, counting and weighing.
He'd weighed love, and found it wanting. Too much pain. Not enough gain. So he'd cut it out of his life. She understood perfectly now why he paid women for sex. If he put his relationships all on a financial footing, there would be