He blows out a long sigh. “A lot of things were wonderful once. I remember getting a puppy on my eighth birthday. I remember turning sixteen and getting my driver’s license. Just because you remember things, Jess, doesn’t mean you can get those moments back.”
Desperation squeezes my chest. The thing is, I can’t tell if it’s because I truly want to mend my marriage or because I hate to lose. “What would it take for you to want to try again?”
“Are you willing to live in New Orleans?”
“I—I can’t.”
“You mean you won’t.”
He’s right. It’s not really about my job; I could find another position. What I’m not willing to do is live here and share him with Quinn and the children. “Maybe I’d consider it if you’d agree to try for a baby with a donor egg,” I say.
He shakes his head. “Having a baby is no way to fix a broken marriage.”
The wordbrokensounds likefailureto me. I ignore it and push on. “Well, maybe we could try online counseling and see if we can negotiate something.”
He shakes his head. “Unless you’re willing to move back, there’s nothing to negotiate.”
“But you agreed to move to Washington with me. That’s why I accepted the job.”
“That was before I learned I had a child here, and another one on the way.” His gaze is direct and serious and chillingly decisive. “It was also before you said you don’t love me enough to deal with my donor family. As far as I’m concerned, that drove a stake through the heart of this marriage.”
“I was upset. I was wrong to say that.”
“If that’s how you feel and that’s what you think, then I needed to know it.”
I have no response. He’s right. I ask the question that’s burning in my heart. “Is it just the children, or are you involved with Quinn?”
“She’s carrying my baby, and she’s the guardian—the mom, really—of Lily. But nothing romantic has happened between us, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Are you attracted to her?”
“I’ve honored my marriage vows to you, Jess.” His expression is unreadable. “I could ask you the same thing about your Realtor-builder guy, but the truth is, I don’t really care.”
I feel like I’ve been slapped. He doesn’t care if I’m involved with another man?
His phone buzzes. He looks at the number. “Excuse me. I needto take this.” He stands and strides into the other room, but I can hear him on the phone.
“Hey, Quinn,” he says. “What’s up?” His voice is warmer, kinder, softer. It’s a jarring shift from the way he just sounded talking to me.
“A little or a lot?” His tone has changed again. Now he sounds wound up and worried.
“Is there pain?” He pauses to listen. “Did you call the doctor? Hang tight. I’ll be right over.”
He strides back into the room. “Sorry, Jess. I’ve got to go.”
“Is something wrong with Lily?”
“No.”
“Margaret?”
“No. It’s Quinn.”
“What’s happened?”
“She’s bleeding.” He drags his hand down his face. “She’s afraid she’s having a miscarriage.”
CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE
