Page 10

10

Salem

Rome had taken me riding out to his property again. We’d also gotten ice cream from the place he had taken me to when I was a teenager and to a bookstore so I could get some books to read over the next week. I missed the library I had on my iPad, and I wanted some of my things, but until they knew who had been tracking me, I couldn’t go to my apartment.

The oddest part of staying here with him was the limbo. It was like going on a long trip and leaving all your important things behind. Except I didn’t know when I’d go back.

There were days I’d give anything to have my own space—not to get away from Rome, but from the constant reminder that he was going to have a baby. Nixie was around a lot, and if I was in the room, all she did was talk about the baby. She couldn’t wait for the ultrasound to find out its gender. I knew that was coming up today or tomorrow, but I did my best to block her out.

Admitting to myself that I was jealous made me feel like a bad person. Just because I couldn’t have a baby—Rome’s baby or Eamon’s—didn’t mean I shouldn’t be happy for someone else. But I wasn’t. I lived with a constant ache in my chest.

When I was with Rome, it was as if the baby didn’t exist. He made me laugh and reminded me what it felt like to smile. I knew he loved me. He’d shown me how much in so many ways, not just in words.

But even when I was in his arms and he held me tightly, it was in the back of my mind. He’d share a child with another woman. Something I couldn’t give him. That was a sorrow that was slowly spreading inside me, and I couldn’t seem to stop it. No amount of pep talking I did to myself made it better.

A knock on the bedroom door interrupted my thoughts, and I turned my head to look at it from where I sat on the sofa. Rome had left twenty minutes ago to go to the club meeting or church or whatever. He had told me to wait here and that he’d come get me for a ride in two hours. I hadn’t argued. Going to see if Goldie or Nina was here meant the possibility of running into Nixie, and I didn’t want that today if I could avoid it.

Standing up, I walked over to the door, wondering if that could be Nina or Goldie coming to get me out of hiding. That was what Nina had called it the other morning when I went down for breakfast. She had accused me of hiding and said I needed to face Nixie down and not let her think she had won anything because she didn’t. But I disagreed. She’d won Rome’s baby. Something I’d give anything to have.

When I opened the door, the sight of Nixie soured my mood further. I was going to have to get over this. She’d be in Rome’s life forever. I couldn’t let her appearance spoil my day. But how I got over it was the question.

“Can we talk?” she asked, and I realized she’d been crying.

Stepping back into the room, I nodded and waited for her to come inside and close the door. I had painted her as the bad guy when, in reality, she was barely older than a college student and pregnant with a man’s baby who didn’t want anything to do with her. I’d been pregnant and unwanted once for a month, and I’d been terrified.

“Is everything okay?” I asked, concern now pushing away the other emotions I felt when around her.

She raised an eyebrow. “No,” she replied. “I’m having the ultrasound today,” she began, and tears filled her eyes again.

I waited, not sure what to say or how to comfort her. We weren’t exactly friends.

“And I’m going alone.” She gave me a tight smile. “I get to see my baby for the first time, and I have to do it alone. Do you have any idea how that feels?” She shook her head. “No, you don’t.”

But I did. I knew it all too well.

“Did you, uh, tell Rome about the ultrasound?” I asked, hating to say it because the idea of him there with her, watching their baby on that screen when I’d watched our baby, wishing he were there with me, only stirred up the agony all over again.

But I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. Not even Nixie.

She let out a hard laugh and threw her hands up. “Of course I did. But he doesn’t care. He just nodded and walked off like I hadn’t said anything that concerned him.” She let out a small sob and wiped at the tears on her face. “I just…what if something is wrong and I’m there alone? I don’t want to be, and if it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t be. He would be with me. He might even be in love with me. We never had time before you showed up.”

There was a deep, searing pain lodged from my throat all the way to my stomach as I stared at her, listening to her. I knew what I had to do. What she needed and the baby deserved. I also knew that, one day, Rome would have regrets for missing this. When the baby was born and he held it for the first time, he was going to love it. He’d be an excellent father. I didn’t want to be the cause of any more of his regrets. Especially about this.

“I’ll talk to him,” I told her, although I had no idea how I got the words out because my throat burned so badly.

How was I going to endure this? It would just get worse. But he should be with her. I knew that.

She narrowed her eyes and stared at me. “You will?” she asked.

I nodded. “Yes, I will. You’re wrong. I do know what that feels like. Just because I don’t have a child doesn’t mean I’ve not been pregnant.”

She balked, and if I were anyone else, I could tell she’d have started apologizing for what she’d said. But this was me, and she hated me.

“I was young, too, and it’s not something anyone should have to go through alone. I’ll convince him to go with you. What time do you need to leave?” I asked her.

She had stopped crying. “Two and a half hours,” she said just above a whisper, studying me like she was just now seeing me for the first time.

“Okay. Wait for him in the kitchen,” I said.

She didn’t move to leave, like I wished she would. I needed the next two hours to get myself pulled together because I literally felt like I was dying inside. If Rome thought for a second that this would upset me, he wouldn’t go. Getting him to go in the first place was going to be hard.

“You’re really gonna get him to go?” she asked.

“Yes, I am.” Now, please get out .

Deciding she needed a hint, I walked back to the door and opened it.

She looked from the door to me, then started in my direction. I waited silently, wishing she’d walk faster.

When she reached the doorway, she stopped. “Thanks.”

I didn’t respond. I’d done all the talking I could. I forced a smile, and she continued out the door. Waiting until she was out far enough that I could close it took effort, but I did it.

I only made it three steps before I sank to the floor, wrapped my arms around my knees, and let the silent tears go. Rocking back and forth, I closed my eyes and tried to breathe through the heartache and pain.

Loss never truly went away. Every time I thought of the three babies I never got to hold, that I never got to celebrate a birthday with, that I never got to hear their first laugh, I got a bone-deep longing for the little lives I never got to see.

It was a grieving that never faded or left you. It was always there, etched into your heart. Reminding you that you had made a life once, but weren’t given the chance to be a mother.

I took deep breaths, the way my therapist—who Eamon had suggested I go see after my second miscarriage—had taught me to do. I focused on the good in my life. I released the pain with each exhale and told myself that with life’s sorrows also came joys. I had joys ahead. It wasn’t all sorrow, and I was strong enough to get through this.

Two hours later, I had washed my face and redone my makeup and changed into a sundress since I wouldn’t be riding on the back of Rome’s bike today. I was composed, sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting for him to arrive. I had to convince him to go, and it would take my very best acting skills to convince him I was good with it. He had to be curious, even a little. This was his baby too.

Yep, I needed to stop that train of thought, or I’d fall apart again.

“You’re the strongest woman I know,” I heard Eamon’s voice say, replaying a conversation we’d had shortly after I lost our second baby.

“Then you should get out more. Because if I’m the strongest, that’s sad.”

He smiled at me and walked over to pull me into his arms. “You don’t see it, but you are. It’s one of the things I love about you.”

The door to Rome’s bedroom opened, and I shook my memory away to prepare for what I was going to say. His pale green eyes locked on me, and he smiled slowly, then drifted down to my crossed legs.

“As much as I love looking at your legs, Angel Face, you can’t wear that on the bike,” he told me, closing the door behind him.

“We aren’t going on a ride today,” I replied matter-of-factly.

“You changed your mind and put on a little short dress. I can work with that,” he said with a smirk as his gaze darkened. “Why don’t you uncross those pretty legs and open them up for me? I’ll let you come on my face first.”

I licked my lips and stood up before he had me pinned on the bed. “No. Well, that’s not why we aren’t going on a ride,” I said, having to tilt my head back to see him now that he was so close.

A frown creased his forehead. “You got that serious look,” he said, brushing his knuckles over my bottom lip. “What changed from the time I left and now? You were looking forward to our ride.”

I’d gone over what I was going to say so many times that I had it memorized.

“Nixie is young and scared. She has no one to go with her to see the ultrasound today. That’s not right. And one day, you will regret not going.”

He was already shaking his head. “No. I’m not taking her to the ultrasound,” he said, then turned and headed toward the closet.

“No woman should have to do that alone. And you will love this baby. Right now, when it’s not here, you don’t realize it, but when you hold it, you’re gonna love it, and you will regret missing something this important. Seeing him or her for the first time on that screen. I don’t want you to have regrets about your child. I want you to go.”

He stopped and looked back at me. “How do you even know about this? Did Nixie tell you? Did she come here to this room?” he asked angrily.

“She’s pregnant, Rome, and it’s your child,” I said sternly. “Yes, she came to this room and told me about it. I don’t blame her. This is hard for her too. She is having a baby with a man who is in love with another woman. Just go with her. Be there to see the ultrasound. Please,” I begged, starting to feel like I might not get him to go after all.

He ran a hand through his hair and muttered a curse. “I don’t like how it looks. I’m not gonna go to appointments with her. I don’t want her thinking this baby means I’m at her disposal. I’m not,” he spit out.

“She’s not asking that you take her to appointments. She is just nervous about the ultrasound. She doesn’t want to be there alone. Go see your child. I’ll be right here, waiting, when you get back.”

He stared at me as if I were asking him to throw his motorcycle off a cliff. “You’re telling me that you don’t care that I’m taking another woman somewhere? To go see an ultrasound of a kid we accidentally created?”

I cared. I cared so deeply that I wasn’t sure how I would breathe for the next few hours. But that was me being selfish and jealous. There was no room for that here.

“I care if you don’t,” I told him. “I don’t want you to miss this.”

We stood there for several moments in silence. His eyes never leaving mine. I knew he was battling with it in his head, and I had to remain firm. Not show him the torment I was dealing with. The memory of a child he had once created with me and knew nothing about. Except the ultrasound I’d had was of an empty womb where our child had been.

“For you. I will go for you,” he said finally and closed the space between us. “But I want this with you. I want us to make a family when we’re ready.”

I didn’t speak. If I tried, I feared I’d crumple to the ground. I just nodded.

All the flaws he didn’t see were the ones that hurt me the most.