I’ve made changes, Nya. This was just a freak incident.”
“Maybe I’m being unfair.” She wiggles out of my hold. “Maybe. No, probably. But you know something?” She takes a step closer, digging a finger into my chest. “Something I’ve learned firsthand, especially when it comes to you. Life isn’t always fair.”
“What are you saying?” Bile rises in the back of my throat and my pulse soars. This isn’t happening again. This is one part of our history that’s not about to repeat itself. Not if I have anything to say about it.
She lifts one shoulder and shakes her head.
“This isn’t over, darlin’. Not by a fucking long shot. I’m not leaving. I can fix this.”
“I never said you had to go anywhere. I made a promise to you and to our daughter, and I plan to keep it.”
I breathe a huge sigh of relief, even though I know this is still far from over. “Tell me what I can do to fix us.” Cupping the side of her face, I brush her tears away with the pad of my thumb.
“I don’t know,” she says, resting her hand over mine. “You’re a resourceful man. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” She grips my wrist, lowering my hand from her cheek.
“I’ll make this right.”
She nods, then points to a stack of ultrasound pictures on the coffee table. “Veronica sent those for you. I’ve had a long day. I’m going to bed.”
I pick them up, flipping through with tears brimming in my eyes. “He looks like a baby now.”
“Yep.” From across the room I can see her throat move when she swallows.
“Did you find out? Is it a girl or a boy?”
She throws her hands out palms up and starts toward our room. “Guess you should have been there, huh?”
Watching her walk away from me is physically painful, but I know there’s nothing more I can do right now but to give her space. I take up the spot I found her curled in when I got home. It’s still warm. The throw blanket smells of her shampoo and the corner is still damp with her tears.
After an hour of examining the stack of ultrasound pictures, a chuckle bursts from my aching chest. She’s really going to hold the gender of this baby over my head as punishment. Fuck, that woman gets me at a cellular level.
Nya
Peace offering
It’s two-thirty in the morning, and I’m still lying wide awake, staring at the glowing red numbers on the nightstand.
When I feel the mattress dip beneath his weight, I pull my eyes shut, doing my best to even out my breathing.
The awareness of his hand when it comes to rest on my bare shoulder has my heart racing. The warmth of his breath as it brushes along the nape of my neck sends a shiver trickling down my spine. The feel of his tender lips pressing a kiss to my temple—it’s almost enough to break me. But the tremor in his raspy voice when he whispers I love you… that’s pure torture.
Every part of me yearns for his touch. His love. Why is it the only one who can offer me even the slightest comfort is the very same person who hurt me to begin with?
I don’t know how it’s possible that I’m still physically able to produce the tears that are now silently soaking my pillow, but I can’t seem to make them stop. Another kiss lands on the back of my shoulder, and I have to bite my lip to keep from crying out. His hand snakes around my waist, his thumb lightly caressing my pregnant belly. I wonder if he notices the gentle kicks I feel fluttering inside.
I know Liam loves this baby. I also know he wanted to be there today. Logically, I even realize that none of this was his fault. Not really. But my heart refuses to see reason. Knowing all of this doesn’t lessen the disappointment I feel pulling me under. It’s dredging up all the fears that things will revert back to the way they were the last time we were married.
That pain. That loneliness. That godawful feeling of never being enough. I just don’t think I can go through that again.
When I came to bed, I deliberately positioned myself as close to the edge as possible, hoping he’d take the hint and give me some space. But the overbearing man presses himself right up against me anyway, molding his torso to my back. Enveloping me in his