“I—” My voice shook, trembling like my hands as they clutched onto the thin, coarse blanket over me. “I was bleeding a lot. Something was wrong and I…I lost the baby.”
The silence was heavy. Long. Fox was often silent, but I couldn’t look back at him. I couldn’t face what he might be feeling. I couldn’t face what I’d see in his expression.
Those stupid tears surfaced again, and I was so tired, so overwhelmed that I allowed one single tear to escape. Just one. It tickled my cheek as it traveled toward my chin.
Something brushed against my jaw, warm and soft. I blinked, automatically looking back down at him. Fox wiped away the tear, and then cupped my face with his hand.
“I’m so sorry,” he said in a low whisper. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against mine.
His scent enveloped me, clean laundry with a hint of musky woods. He smelled like comfort and peace, and it took everything I had to keep myself together.
I closed my eyes for a moment and savored the feeling of him close. I’d never thought I’d feel this way about anyone. Never thought I’d trust someone the way I trusted him. But as much as I loved Fox, I’d realized something in that recovery room.
I couldn’t keep him.
Taking in a steadying breath, I reached up and put my hand over his. He was shaking, too, I realized.
“Areyou mad?”
“Mad?” He frowned. “Why would I be mad?”
I shrugged a shoulder and winced. Apparently, not only was there pain where they cut into me near my stomach, but also in my shoulder for some reason. The nurse said it was normal. I’d argue nothing about this was normal, though.
Fox grabbed my hand. “What’s wrong?” he said, alarmed.
I shook my head. “Nothing.”
“Are you in pain?”
“I’m fine,” I said, sharper than I intended.
His furrow deepened. “What aren’t you telling me, Skye?”
He knew. Of course he knew. He knew me better than anyone. I gritted my teeth against what I had to do, what I had to say. I’d made the decision in recovery. The one choice that I knew would be best for him.
After all, there was nothing to tie myself to him now.
The guilt was a heavy weight on my chest, crushing my sternum until I felt like I couldn’t breathe.
“Skye?”
Looking away, I reminded myself this was best. I couldn’t hurt him anymore, not after this.
“I need to leave.”
Another beat of silence. “Babe, I’ll take you home as soon as I can, but—”
“No.” I cut him off, forcing myself to look at him. “Fox, I can’t stay in this town anymore. I have to go. When I’m…better, I’m going to college.”
He blinked slowly, and I saw the gears churning in his mind. “Good.” He nodded. Some relief replaced the haze of fear and worry.
The reason we’d been fighting before all this happened was because I hadn’t been sure about college anymore. Everything had changed, and leaving after graduation had seemed so uncertain all of the sudden. Fox didn’t want me throwing away that dream.
He’d told me he would follow me wherever I wanted to go.
Fox placed a soft kiss on my forehead. “We can talk about this later. When you’re healed.”
I shook my head hard, even though it made me dizzy. “No, we won’t.”
