eyes wondering what in the hell was so critical after ten years, but he nodded, because at this point, he was intrigued.
"Okay." She took a breath. "Okay. When you proposed, you terrified me." She held up a hand at his disgusted snort.
This? Really? This is what she needed to talk to him about?
"Stop, you agreed to listen."
He cleared his throat and nodded for her to go ahead.
"We’d always talked about how my mom was trapped by marriage to my dad and then by me, by having a kid. My dad divorced her and married Dawn's mom. My mother was a miserable soul and lived with regrets her entire life. If it wasn't for Dawn's mom, I wouldn't know what a good mother was like. Well, until I met your mom. I explained how I didn't want to live that way. Ever. When you asked me to marry you, I freaked.
"I'm not proud of freaking out, but I did. I came back here, but after an hour or so, I realized what I'd done. I’d run away from the man I loved, and I was horrified. I called and called. Finally, I called your mom. She told me what happened. I went straight to the hospital. The accusing looks I got from your brothers and sisters… well, how could I blame them? I agreed. So, when your family wasn’t there, I sat with you. Every night until the nurses made me leave. I came back, and you were awake and talking to Brock. I heard you tell him you never wanted to see me again. You wanted nothing to do with me. Your mom heard it, too. I left. I didn't want to cause a scene, so I called your number at least five times a day, but you never answered, and then your voice mailbox was full. Probably from me. I finally realized you really meant what you’d told Brock. You wanted nothing to do with me.
“I packed my clothes and moved in with Dawn. A couple months later, I went back to our old place. I, ah, really needed to see you. You’d moved. The landlord gave me the rest of the stuff you'd boxed up for me. I went to your parents’ house. Your mom was polite, but also blunt. She asked me to give you time to heal, and assured me you'd call me if you wanted to talk. You never did." Large tears fell down her cheeks, but she didn't wipe them away. "The reason I tried so hard to find you, why I went to your parents, is because I discovered I was pregnant.” Her eyes drifted from her lap to his.
He turned away from her and gripped the steering wheel. She'd been pregnant? Well, she wouldn't have had his child. She was right. They'd talked about her desire to see the world, do things and go places. A child wouldn't have fit into her plans. Hell, if a husband, who would have done anything to give her that life, didn't fit, what hope did a helpless baby have? It sickened him. She sickened him. Pain lanced through his soul at the thought of her terminating their baby, but there’d been no legal requirement for her to inform him of what she'd done.
A calliope of conflicting thoughts and emotions pummeled each other. Her story was plausible. His phone had been destroyed in the car accident. He didn't bother buying a new one for months and by then he'd dropped the old carrier and signed a contract with a new carrier for a new number. He'd let the apartment go because he couldn't climb the stairs to the third floor walk-up. He'd demanded his family have no contact with her, even if they could find her, not that he thought she was going to stick around Hope City. Hell, he’d lived with his parents until his body healed. He remembered the day his mother’d said she'd talked to Amber again, and he should consider talking to her, for closure if nothing else. He’d refused; he couldn't pick the bloodied scab again. And she’d been pregnant with his child.
He turned to look at her, not even trying to hide the disgust which rolled through him. "Why are you telling me this now?"
She swallowed hard and took a picture from her pocket. She extended the square to him. "He'd like to meet his dad."
He jerked back. His eyes pinged from her to the photo. "What?" His hand visibly