What's Truly Important

What's Truly Important
Rhys

Duskmoore pulses with disappointment and shame, and its walls close in on me, choking me in my own guilt. 
I stare blankly at the papers in my hands, not even reading the words but understanding the meaning—that Alice is pregnant with my child, even though I refused to believe her. 
I’ve said vile things to her, and she is the woman who is carrying my baby. How was I to know? I never thought it was possible for a human to have a vampire baby. The idea never crossed my mind, even when she and I made love. 
I haven’t moved from this room since Gio told me the news. My first instinct was to run to Alice and apologize, but Gio stopped me in my tracks and insisted it was too early for that. She would need time to recover from my accusations, he’d told me, let alone forgive me. But I know that mercy may be too much to ask. Perhaps she will never even speak to me again. 
But I can’t sit here and feel the house’s cruel judgment of me anymore, so I hurry toward the back door and fling it open, slamming it behind me as I sprint toward the cliff’s edge. 
The weather is well suited to my mood. A damp fog lies heavy over the ocean, obscuring my view of anything not directly behind Duskmoore, except for the haunting glow of the lighthouse miles away. Mist rises from the rocks immediately beneath my feet. Further down, the waves crash against the shore relentlessly, exerting their oppressive power, slowly churning the cliff sides into helpless sand. 
Even well outside of Duskmoore, I feel the disgrace of my actions with growing intensity. The shame is mine, not the house’s. 
Every word I said to her plays through my mind. The look on her face when I accused her of sleeping with Sam should have told me everything I needed to know. But I was too self-absorbed with my anger to notice it. Instead, I kept battering her emotionally, crashing against her feelings like the waves eating away at the rocks. 
And now, I feel her pain right alongside my shame. 
How could I treat her that way? She just returned to Duskmoore. The house felt warm again, right again. Why do I keep assuming the worst without stopping to listen to her? 
I was so sure it was Sam’s baby. I was certain Alice was using me, making a fool of me. But the only one causing me to look like a fool was myself. 
I inch my way closer to the edge of the cliff, staring down at the jagged rocks below. Their sharp edges remind me of my actions—cold and piercing. How could Alice ever stay here with someone like me? How long would she wait patiently for my rough exterior to smooth into someone she could live with? 
I fear I may have just found that answer. I told her to leave, and she probably will. 
“It won’t do you any good to jump.”
I scoff at Gio and answer without turning around. “Perhaps the pain will bring me some penance.” 
He steps up next to me. “Self-punishment isn’t what you should be concerned about right now. The focus should be Alice’s health.”
He’s right, and we both know it, but I ignore his statement, jerking my head toward him. “Is this dangerous for her?”
He shrugs, turning to gaze at the sea. “I can’t know for sure until I have more insight. It’s certainly nothing I’ve ever treated before.”
“Then send out word to everyone you know.”
“I already have,” he insists, turning back to me. “Why do you think I was away for so long with no communication? I told the nurses I was busy seeing patients, but I was phoning every doctor I could think of with longer lives than mine. Surely, someone must have heard of such a pregnancy.”
There’s no outlet for my frustration or fear, and Gio’s words are no help. “This baby could kill her.” It’s a question, yet I frame it as a statement. 
“I cannot say,” he replies. 
“Even if she chooses to leave, I can’t live with the thought of a world without her alive in it,” I tell him.
“I will do everything I can to help her,” he insists. 
I know it’s the truth. “Have you reached anyone yet?” I ask. 
“None that have ever heard of a human-vampire pregnancy,” he replies, folding his arms and gazing back at the misty ocean. “I do have hope that Whitmore will have some answers. He wasn’t available, but I’m expecting his call. I’ve asked him to reach me here or at the hospital.”
I raise a brow. “Dr. Victor Whitmore?”
He nods in response. Whitmore is twice as old as any vampire I know, and he’s been a physician for most of those years. If anyone has seen this happen, he has. 
“Then what the hell are you doing out here?” I ask him. “Suppose he calls and you’re standing here wasting time watching seagulls with me?”
“Naomi and Ti are both aware of my expected call,” he explains. “They know where I am.”
I nod, watching another wave crash into the cliff. Everything feels so different now. My rage has long retreated, replaced by despair and guilt and regret, for the relationship with Alice I might have had, had I only calmed down and listened.
“She’s afraid,” he says suddenly. 
I turn to face him. “How much have you told her?”
“Exactly what I told you,” he replies. “She has a right to know what she’s facing.” I open my mouth to say more, but he holds up his hand. “I’ve been trying to reassure her as much as I can. But I also must be honest with her. I don’t know how much danger she’s in until I’ve spoken to Whitmore, and if he’s unfamiliar with this, whomever else might be able to help. So, she is waiting to hear from me just as you are.”
“I don’t want her to be afraid,” I say, knowing my desires are not what’s truly important now. 
“Neither do I,” he agrees, turning back toward the house. “I’m going back in. Perhaps you should, too.”
I shake my head. “Not just yet.”
“Very well,” he says. “I’ll be in my office, where I trust you’ll not enter again without my permission.” He smirks, clearly hoping the jest will lighten my mood.
It won’t.
“I will never step foot in that room again,” I assure him. 
He pats my shoulder twice before walking away without another word. 
I glance at Duskmoore again, now understanding the feeling of oppression I’d detected earlier. I had even been selfish where the house was concerned, assuming its gloom was caused by disdain for me. 
But perhaps it is focused on something more important. It knows the danger Alice is in and senses her fear. 
How I wish things were different. Alice is pregnant. What joy that should bring us both, the idea that we’d created a child together. This moment wouldn’t have had me standing out here staring at an angry ocean. I would be with her, sharing this joy, planning the best way to welcome the child into our lives. 
I hadn’t even taken a moment to think about what kind of father I might make. I’d been too wrapped up in myself. Perhaps that would be the first thing I would attempt to teach the child—not to jump to rash conclusions and hurt those he loves. 
How odd that I assume it is a son. Perhaps it would be better to be a daughter, filled with all Alice’s endearing qualities—her beauty, her talent, her thoughtful spirit, her kindness. Yes, that would be far preferable to a son who followed in my footsteps, though I cannot help wondering how it would feel to have an heir to take over my business one day when I grow tired of it. 
Deep within me, a twinge of joy emerges at the thought of having a child with Alice.  Try as I might, I cannot tamp it down, despite the uncertainty of it all. I am wasting my time with all this guilt, which is purely mine to bear. Now, I should think of Alice and the child growing inside her. I can swallow my guilt and pity myself another day. 
Gio is right. My place is not here standing on a cliff–not right now. I should be inside, apologizing to Alice and trying to rebuild our relationship. I should be begging her to stay in Duskmoore. I should be explaining that I trust her and that, while I know it will take time for her to forgive me, that I will begin to make amends today that will help rebuild her trust in me. 
I’ve made so many mistakes with her before. I don’t know whether I have the right to ask for mercy. But perhaps it is not impossible that she will forgive me this time. 
Perhaps there is still a chance for us. 
I turn on my heels and walk back toward the house.