“Julia.”
God, she had to tell him. She scowled at the offending scuff mark. “When you were on tour in Europe, I discovered I was pregnant.” Her lips twisted as her words tumbled out. “Hell of a shock since I was on the Pill. I tried to contact you and failed.”
“Julia.” Ryan moved closer and gripped her forearms. “What happened to the baby? Did you—” He broke off, his breathing sounding harsh in the enclosed office.
“I miscarried,” she snapped, lifting her chin to meet his unfounded accusation. She would never…he could shove his thoughts right back where they came from. “I didn’t abort the baby or give it away. I miscarried, Ryan. Christina and Susan found me unconscious in my apartment.” She couldn’t see, couldn’t focus on him, and realized her face was damp. She sniffed, knuckling away the moisture from her eyes. “I didn’t understand how much I wanted the baby until they told me I’d lost it. When the doctor told me it would be difficult to have more children I was devastated.”
“Hell!” He dragged his hand through his dark hair, leaving it ruffled. He took half a step toward her and halted, his arms falling to his sides. “I’m sorry. All this happened about the time I was mugged?”
She nodded, unable to speak past the lumpy obstruction growing in her throat. Her hands clenched and unclenched. He had a child. She groped to deal with the thoughts swirling through her mind, the white noise, the pain of losing their baby. Guilt because she kept wondering if she’d done things differently with her pregnancy. A rush of envy and resentment because he had a child with another woman.
“I can’t…I…can we talk about this tomorrow?” When she glanced at him, she caught his look of anguish and it ricocheted back to her, making her feel as if she rode an out-of-control train. Nausea curdled her stomach, and she swallowed.
“Hell.” Apparently his go-to word. His fingers worked his hair until the strands stood to attention, as agitated as him.
His reluctance to look at her forced a cry from deep in her chest. It halted at the clog halfway up her throat.
“Fuck.” His harsh whisper throbbed with pain. “Julia, I’m sorry. This isn’t good timing, but I need to tell you something.”
“What?” Something in her gut coiled tight and kept tightening until she wondered if she might snap and fly apart.
“The mother of the kid didn’t want him. She signed him over to me.”
Her mind whooshed. It buzzed and clanged with frenzied thoughts, with helplessness, with stabs of pain.
A child.
She gasped for air. The reality of Ryan’s son forced raw memories to the surface—memories of her baby, their baby. The stunned surprise on learning she was pregnant. Her initial panic, slowly replaced by the joy that encroached, one day at a time. She’d wanted to be a mother, wanted it so desperately. Then came the sheer black terror of knowing there was a problem, the agonizing cramps in her belly, the knowledge she was losing her baby. She pressed her right hand to muffle her cry of pain, the memories she’d concealed and boxed away ripping jagged holes in her composure. “I…I…can’t. I…”
Ryan stared at her, his lips pressed together, his impatience obvious in his glance toward the door. “I have to go. I’m staying at my old apartment tonight with Caleb and need to get back to relieve the babysitter.”
Julia stared at him, unable to pluck the requisite words from her cement-mixer mind. The pause lengthened. Heck, she didn’t know what she should say or think when grief was jabbing her with pointy spears, bringing back the nightmare in glorious color. Blood. Pain. Concerned faces. Doctors. Pure, blinding white agony and dark days filled with nothingness.
“Right,” Ryan said in a hard voice. “I’ll meet you for breakfast in the morning. We have decisions to make.” His body tense, he hesitated a fraction longer, but when she remained silent, he stalked from the office, closing the door quietly behind him.
The tiny snick sounded like gunfire, as if he were closing the door on their marriage.
Julia stumbled to the closest chair, turmoil crashing her senses, nausea still heavy in her belly as she squeezed her eyes shut. She pressed a hand to her chest and concentrated on small, even breaths when what she really wanted to do was crawl under the desk and hide.
A tap sounded on the door seconds later. It opened and Maggie popped her head through the gap. “Connor and I are—what’s wrong?” She hurried to Julia. Connor followed, pausing to close the door behind him.
Julia blinked and, after groping for words to explain, started talking, sparing a thought for the irony. She managed to talk to her friends—the Tight Five—but not to her husband. “I told Ryan about the baby I lost. Blurted it out when he told me about his son. I couldn’t…I couldn’t… The mother doesn’t want her child.”
“He’s keeping the kid?” Maggie sounded surprised.
“I don’t…I think so.” She threw up her hands in disgust at herself. “All the pain of losing our baby sort of exploded inside me. I froze, and I…he left.”
“Why didn’t you tell him about the baby earlier? I presume he was the father?” Connor asked.
Julia gave an irritable shrug, angry at herself as well as Connor for stating the obvious. “I know. I know. I should’ve told him, but I decided the divorce would go through and it didn’t matter. And the longer I left it, well, the harder it seemed to introduce the topic. He told me how much he wanted kids. What was I meant to say to him? You have no idea how guilty I am for losing our baby. I keep thinking I could’ve done something differently. If I’d realized I was pregnant straightaway and stopped drinking.”
“Don’t be stupid,” Connor said. “I was there when the doctor told you it wasn’t your fault and sometimes there’s no medical reason for a woman to suffer a miscarriage.”
“Just because the doctor said it doesn’t mean my mind accepts his word.”
“What are you going to do? Where’s Ryan now?” Maggie asked.
“He’s gone back to his old apartment. We’re meeting for breakfast.”
