In Name Only (Pine Falls #2) - Jennifer Peel Page 0,66

things his dad knew about me. He hadn’t even flinched when I told him about my sordid past. All he had said was, “I don’t give a damn about your past—I only care about our future.” The thing was, we didn’t have a future. And he did care about my past. He had cared that I was going to have his brother’s baby. My baby, who was gone. Who had left me feeling so empty I could hardly breathe.

Nothing seemed the same anymore. Food, when I could stomach getting anything down, had lost its appeal. My job that I loved seemed daunting. I didn’t want to see a soul, not even my sisters or grandparents. I felt as if I had nothing to offer anyone. And I was tired of people telling me that I would be okay. That we could have another baby. I didn’t want another baby—I wanted my baby. My baby who I was willing to live through hell and take on John and Edward for, if I had to. The baby I was willing to lose it all for. And now I had.

I curled up in my bed and closed my eyes, begging for sleep. It was the only reprieve I had from the loss and emptiness. After lying in bed for a few days, only getting up when I absolutely had to, I was still more exhausted than I had ever felt. Sleep came more and more easily. I let it consume me.

I only woke up because someone had the audacity to turn on my light. My eyes burned from it since I had been keeping my room as dark as possible. Even during the day, I’d been shading the windows with blankets. The light made me feel exposed. Like all my emotions might explode out of me. I wanted to keep them bottled up and hidden from the world, even myself. They were too much to bear.

When I was able to open my eyes against the stinging light, I thought at first I had double vision; then I realized it was Brock and Brant. Two-thirds of the Three Musketeers. Two of my best friends who I had turned into enemies. Another failure in the flesh, coming to taunt me.

I pulled the covers over my head. “Go away,” I pleaded.

They didn’t listen.

I heard footsteps cross the creaky floor before someone landed on my bed. A strong hand rested on top of me. “Dani, I’m so sorry,” Brant cried. “I would have come sooner, but . . . well, it doesn’t matter. I should have come. You shouldn’t have been alone. I should have taken care of you and our baby,” he choked out so emotionally.

Our baby. Those words rang beautiful. I so desperately wanted someone to share my baby with. I wrapped my arms around my empty womb. “I’m so sorry I lost our baby.” The tears flowed.

Brant peeled back my covers. His wet eyes were filled with tenderness and loss. The same loss I felt in the depths of my soul. He gently wiped away my tears. “You can’t blame yourself. This wasn’t your fault.”

“Maybe it was. Maybe I did something wrong. Or it’s my punishment for what we did.”

Brant easily lifted me, took me in his arms, and held me against his chest. There was nothing romantic about it. It was as if he were trying to save me from myself. I clung to him, soaking his dress shirt like I had the night where it had all gone wrong. And just like that night, I wanted him to take away the sting of death.

“Dani.” He stroked my unwashed and unkempt hair. “You are not being punished. You did nothing wrong. If anyone did, it was me. I knew it wasn’t me you wanted that night. You wanted Brock, and I reasoned I could give you a part of him. And . . .” He paused. “I wanted to be with someone I loved one more time before . . . well . . . before I would never have the chance to again.”

I wondered what Brock made of that, even though I knew the kind of love Brant was talking about wasn’t the romantic kind. It was the safe, friendly, enduring kind. To know that was why he wanted me that night broke my heart even more for him. He knew he was facing a lifetime of misery. I sat up and touched his cleanly shaven cheeks. Even though he and Brock