She stares at me through the sheen of her tears, the silence thick between us.
“I’m clean,” I offer to at least ease her mind on that score. “I’ve never had sex without a condom. It’s only with you that I’ve ever broken my rule.”
She releases one arm to grope around the bed for a T-shirt. I can’t resist glancing at the ripe swells of her breasts and the still-hard nipples I didn’t take the time to taste. I watch as her mass of curls pushes past the neck of a shirt, the one I was wearing, and her curves disappear beneath the cotton. She licks her swollen lips, reminding me of just how hard I took her. Without a word, she pulls the sheet around her and gives me her back.
My heart plummets. “I shouldn’t have lost control.”
“I wanted you to,” she says huskily.
“I was rough.”
“Yes, and it was perfect. I needed to feel something stronger than my grief. I neededyou.”
I’m so fucked up over everything that I don’t know what’s right from wrong in this situation. But I let her words buffer my guilt. Tossing the washcloth to one side, I slide in under the sheets behind her. “You’ve got me, baby.”
“I don’t want your regrets, Mick.”
I drape my arm around her waist and rest my chin in the crook of her shoulder. “My regret is not taking the time to make love with you. I’ve made so many mistakes, Dee.”
“I’m the one who made the mistakes. If we ran a tally, I’d win hands down. So if you need someone to blame, it should be me.”
“I don’t blame you.”
She shakes her head. “Not telling you about my pregnancy was wrong. But at the time, it seemed to be the right choice. I didn’t want you to feel burdened or to give up your dream of being a writer. That was your future.”
“The only future I cared about was the one with you.” I flatten my palm against her stomach. “I wouldn’t have felt burdened by any baby that was ours, Dee. I would have wanted you both.”
“I know that, Mick,” she whispers, bringing her hand to cover mine. “I wish I’d done so many things differently.”
“I wish that I had.”
We fall silent, lying together. From the warmth of the bed, we listen to the downpour.
“Did you have morning sickness?” I ask a few moments later, needing the details.
“Not really. A little nausea.”
“Is that how you knew?”
“That, two missed periods, and tender breasts.”
“I remember. They felt fuller than usual.”
“I was terrified you would notice and connect the dots.”
“That’s why you hid out?”
“Yes. And then I panicked when you touched me that night.”
I kiss her hair in between our quiet whispers. “I shouldn’t have left you in the rain.”
“I shouldn’t have hidden myself away from you.”
We both bear our own guilt and probably always will. “I’m glad I found you again.”
“I was shocked when you did.”
“I thought you were going to Mace me.”
