Sin was not entirely certain he could stand. But he could still throw a punch. Could he not? Yes, he decided, he damn well could.
“Shall we test it?” he asked, raising a brow.
“I would prefer not to have an altercation with my oldest, best friend.” Decker’s voice was stinging. “Especially not over a woman who did her utmost to destroy you.”
“She is not what you think,” Sin found himself defending Callie as his whisky glass was miraculously refilled. “She loved her brother. Her devotion to him is…”
Something he envied.
As was her devotion to her dead former betrothed.
Because Sin wanted it for himself, curse her.
“Her devotion to him is enough to make her mad?” Decker guessed. “Because from where I stand, madness is the only excuse for what she did to you, Sin. She almost decimated you. How can you love such a treacherous—”
“Enough,” Sin bit out, scowling at his friend, who was becoming more blurry by the moment. It was a distinct possibility there were two Deckers. At least, according to his eyesight. “I will not hear another ill word about her, and that is final.”
“Fair enough.” Decker inclined his head, his gaze searching. “But answer me this, Sin. If she is such a bloody angel, why are you here tonight? Why are you not at home, reveling in the marriage bed, reciting poetry to each other, that sort of tripe?”
Salient questions. Sin could not deny that, even if he hated them.
“She does not want me there,” he admitted. “She was ill tonight, and she wanted her bloody lady’s maid to attend her.”
Instead of him.
That still hurt.
Fucking hell, how was his glass empty once more?
“Another whisky?” Decker asked him.
Sin ought to say no.
“Yes,” he said instead. He was not ready to return home.
Home to his wife who had been…strangely withdrawn in the wake of the news she was carrying his child. Home to his wife who had been pale and quiet. Home to the realization that everything between them was about to change. Home to the fears that had not ceased to torment him ever since bloody Dr. Gilmore had made his announcement that Callie was carrying his child.
Thoughts of his daughter, stillborn, returned.
The realization he could lose another child, and that he could lose Callie too, slammed into him with the force of a fist.
His glass was full once more. He took a long, steady draught. The burn down to his gut was not enough to make him forget. But it was enough to distract.
For now.
She was goingto be a mother.
How impossible it seemed.
Alone in the sitting room of her apartments, Callie rested her hand upon her belly. The chamber was eastward facing, which meant that whenever it was in abundance, rich sunlight spilled into the room, bathing it in warmth. On ordinary days, she adored this cheerful room. She spent time in here reading. Once, Sin had surprised her and made love to her on the divan. Another occasion, upon the newly replaced carpets.
But the joy she ordinarily found in this chamber was nowhere to be found today, and those memories of lovemaking haunted her like bitter ghosts.
It was still so much to comprehend, Dr. Gilmore’s shocking proclamation the day before, that she was pregnant. Initially, she had been stunned. Utterly flabbergasted. For all that she and Sin had been making love at every opportunity, she had somehow foolishly believed that growing a child in her womb would take time. That it would not happen immediately.
However, fate had proven her wrong.
When Sin had come to her, she had been in shock. She had been dizzied, tired, and terrified. She still was tired. Still terrified. But now, she was also plagued by another painful truth: her husband had not returned home last night. He had left her as she had asked, and he had never come back.
