Chapter 24

The sudden crush on his chest. Harsh, unmoving. The oxygen expressed from his lungs, then gone. Simply gone.

The wiry thread burning through his frame. Snaking through him, digging grooves into him he instantly and instinctively realized would never leave him.

She’d been pregnant with his child.

He stared at Abby in the semi-darkness, saw fresh the coldness in her features.

Had that face ever smiled before? Laughed?

His own face felt like it was carved in stone. Numb. But not granite. Granite was tough.

No, something. Something else. Something that with the drop of a tear, or the rush of many, would simply wash away and exist no more.

The thought pounded in his brain, extinguishing room for any others.

A child. His child. Their child.

It was too awful to entertain.

He opened his mouth but shut it again as she watched him. What the holy hell could he say to her?

After what he’d done to her?

But the elemental need for connection tore something in him.

He’d lost his child, his babe. He couldn’t bear to lose her now too, or he’d lose his mind. He needed her, through the grief. Abby.

He had to reach her. Connect.

“Oh god. Oh god. Oh, Abby. Oh, honey.”

She bent forward, cross-legged, her head hung downward as he spoke, her visage no longer visible.

“Abby. Abby. Speak to me, honey.” He moved closer, but still didn’t touch her, aware of an odd energy in the space. She was physically present but caught in some motionless vortex of suffering that hadn’t abated. A thought, a word, and she was back in it. A sacred Madonna.

But no. Not sacred. Stone.

A stone Madonna. Not a mother, but the Bereaved One.

Holy hell. Unbidden tears sprang to his eyes. The new knowledge swirled in him, gathering pain, more pain. Threatening to flatten him.

What could he do? Indecision rent through him. Did she want him here…not want him…?

Then she lifted her face, and he saw tears glistening on her cheeks in the otherworldly amber glow of the cave. Running down her cheeks, a silent river of grief cracking her exterior. A fresh ache panged in his heart and he couldn’t bear to not hold her. Impelled into movement, he scrambled over the cold dirt and tiny rocks. “Abby.”

No resistance. She let him gather her, awkwardly, into his arms, to his chest. Even though she was limp, he crushed her to him.

He passed his big hands over her hair, molded it roughly to her head, needing the contact. And he couldn’t stop saying that one word. “I’m sorry. Sorry, sorry, sorry…”

* * *

All-out anticipation had filled her, that day. She was going to see Dare, had caught the train from New York early to finish up a few appointments so she could focus on him the next day. And honestly? To give her more time to spend with him after their unscheduled talk, making up. A girl had to plan for such times.

And oh, she was excited, could barely contain the stronghold of emotion in her.

She was going to confront the stupid disagreement they’d had. The coward’s way out was not an option. What they had was special and didn’t come around every day, despite the fact they hadn’t talked for weeks.

But it wouldn’t take long, she knew. He loved her, of that she had no doubt. She’d break down the stupid walls his past had put up so unbelievably fast, apologize for what she’d done, then they’d be solid again. Solid.

She could always get to him. She’d always been able to, in the past. She had faith in that.

She’d had a necessary last-minute appointment with her doctor that afternoon, going over the check-up results that had come back while she’d moved to the Big Apple, her mind still on the next day. The talk, the melding together, the making up. She could barely wait, though she was a bit scared, but it would work out. It had to.

And then she’d slipped back into present time, hearing the doctor talking, saw the encouraging smile on his face. Everything was fine, until he told her the shocker.

She was pregnant.

And her whole world changed.

She’d been unable to sleep that night, laying on her friend Monica’s couch, scared witless. Shifting in and out of wakefulness. A thousand questions had assailed her.

How could she have this baby? How would they manage?

Her parents had just told her over the phone not to bother coming home if she was pursuing Dare or her career, though she’d kept that to herself.

And Dare—he was already scraping the worn-out bottom of his barrel.

And the internship. The prize, plum, shiny internship.

How would they manage?

Yet she’d woken in the morning and found her palm cradling her belly. Fingers spread, supporting the non-existent bulge.

And in her mind’s eye, she saw their little one. A laughing little girl, soft auburn curls. Maybe the red from Dare’s aunt Emma would flash in her hair as she tossed her head impertinently in the sunshine. Demanding a ride on Daddy’s shoulder, or some new toy.

She remembered the thoughts as surely as if it had been an hour ago.

Or perhaps a little boy…just like Dare. Proud, determined, but with a tender little heart. Going to show the world he could stand on his own two feet, with his stubby little fists clenched.

She’d laid like that, warming her belly, barely able to breathe, finally struck with the awe, the wonder of what had happened. Welcoming the little one into their lives. Scared, but…things had changed. Someone else was depending on her.

And she wouldn’t let him or her down.

Her child.

She didn’t know how they’d manage, but they would. And through all the worry, the fear, one thought kept relaxing her. One thing she could count on, in a life that had done nothing but let her down, despite the wealth she’d been privileged with.

Their love, thank god, their love. It was the key. It would pull them through.

She’d gone straight to his place. Sneaking in stealthily in the early morning so as to not awaken him, unsure herself of how she was going to broach the subject she’d come to discuss, especially after the weeks-long, intense fight they’d had, trying to garner a few extra seconds to calm her racing mind.

But ready. They’d figure it out, together. Pushed into sensibleness, catapulted out of the childish argument which didn’t seem so important anymore, she knew underneath it all he loved her. She knew she loved him.

They’d figure it out.

Maybe she could still do the internship…maybe there was a clause…or a miracle…

And if not, there’d be another opportunity, another day. Because their child, her little one, came first, and would never be shunted aside for anything.

Finding the curtains closed as she entered his house was odd. He normally rose early and threw them back. This time though, they were closed fast against the early morning sun.

And once inside, just past the brief entryway, she tripped.

Her toe caught on the silky black thong on the floor, all rolled up as if it had been yanked off over someone’s thighs hurriedly and tossed. Thrusting her hand out to catch herself, she missed the decorative railing and went down, slamming onto the wood floor.

Her hands had flown to her belly. Her baby. Her baby.

Was the baby alright?

The anguish. The sudden realization everything had abruptly shifted in her world, the landscape was different.

The hasty, laughable retreat—she wasn’t even sure if she was quiet, but somehow he hadn’t heard. They hadn’t heard, she’d reminded herself. The retching later, in her friend’s room. The revisit to the doctor, only this time at the hospital.

Her hand dropped to her belly, a slight whisk of her fingers across its roundness.

The doctors said it wasn’t the fall. The baby was young, not even a fetus. These things were unfortunate, but they happened. They could try again.

Her hand strayed to her belly again, and she pulled it back. The cave walls, the meager safety light he’d brought came in to focus.

And oh yeah, there was another person in the room, clutching her tight. Really tight.

Dare.

* * *

After what seemed like forever, Abby raised her head, pulled back with his arms still strong around her, the clasp of his hands at the midpoint of her back. She gazed into his eyes, tears to tears. And the recriminations flew. “You were with someone else. When I was coming to tell you about our…”

“Oh god, Abby, I’m sorry.” He clenched his eyes shut, unsure of what he could say that would, could, match what she’d been through.

What their little one, though tinier than tiny, had been through.

And worse, what he’d done to hurt her. Made her go through this awful thing alone.

His own pain was screaming at him, deafening. His kid. His child.

But how could he address it when hers was so much greater?

The weight of what he’d done filled him. Yes, there’d been excuses, as they were commonly called. The intense loneliness, the knowledge that again, when it all came down to it, he wasn’t enough. He’d never been enough.

But…Abby. Their child.

Fresh revulsion spread through him.

And he’d been bedding a stranger?

The information weakened him. Arced through his body, pulling his energy mercilessly, his will to fight. Deadening parts of him he’d seen coming to life again.

He had to say something. He knew that. They were trapped here, so he couldn’t even get away from her and leave her in peace, give her that paltry gift. But if they survived, he could…he didn’t know what.

All he knew was…he’d never be able to make it up to her.

He didn’t open his eyes, kept them clenched tight, but words stumbled from his mouth, struggling to find purchase, a point of reception. Anything that would communicate to her what he felt, so deeply. How he was changed, had been, for so long. How he’d never put her through something like this again. She was everything to him, despite how he’d been.

Who he’d been.

There was nothing he could say.

Nonetheless, words spilled from his mouth. “I’m sorry. Sorry. And I know I can’t…”

And suddenly, he had no more to say. Silence spread in the cave, as anguish eddied in him, then a deep disappointment in who he was, had always been, took over.

He knew, instinctively, it was the end between them. She’d never believe him. Why should she? He knew it deep in his soul. She’d never, ever…

The soft touch of her fingers on his cheek.

It surprised him. Halted him. If his cheek was already wet from his own tears, or from the dampness of her fingers, he’d never know.

He opened his eyes, unthinking.

And there she was. Looking at him. Dark eyes locked on him, seeing nothing else.

“Sometimes things happen.”

The words weren’t particularly reassuring, but there was something about those eyes. She was inviting him.

Inviting him…to do what?

No. He was not getting off this hook. No matter how noble she could play at being. Anger burgeoned within him. No one could be that noble. Could they? No, it wasn’t right.

“I wasn’t there for you. This isn’t okay. We can’t make it okay. I wasn’t…”

But that steady light exuded from her still. Faint, yet undeniably present, with a strength he didn’t quite fathom. It confused him, tried to pull him away from what he knew was right, the feelings and thoughts that wanted to consume him whole. The obligatory punishment he was due, for this one.

No. There was no relief for this one. It was serious.

But she kept watching him, and incredibly, her cheeks, the rest of her face. Had it softened?

He scrambled for words. “I don’t know how to…”

But those same three fingers landed now on his lips, soft, yet effectively halting words. He stared into the miracle of those beautiful eyes, and some long-forgotten scrap of his soul reared up, suddenly clutching at his one shot, hopelessly hopeful. As if someone had tossed a lifeline from heaven down to him, forced it into his numb hands.

“Dare. My Dare.” She whispered in the dark, and the voice was Abby’s, but with a tone he’d never heard before. Like minute droplets of gentle rain against a blistering heat storm. Exquisitely tender. “Can you just hold me?”