Pinning her against the wall, my hands resting either side of her head, I search her eyes with mine. ‘Is it true?’
She swallows hard. ‘Yes.’
‘Was it mine?’ A growl hisses from my lips.
‘Of course it was yours.’ She tears her watery gaze away, staring at the floor.
Shock knocks the breath from my chest.
She was carrying my baby. Our baby. And she had to deal with that loss on her own, on top of everything else.
Shame surges through my veins, rapidly chased by a hot ugly anger. My fists bang the wall above her head. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘You weren’t here.’ Her words are a definitively damning kick in the balls. I can’t even argue with her. She’s right. Nausea surges within.
‘Why didn’t you tell me when we…’ I’m at a loss to describe our current situation.
‘What difference does it make? What’s done is done. Nothing will bring him back. I didn’t want to put that hurt on you. I never wanted you to feel a fraction of the loss I felt. Time passes, but it doesn’t lessen. Not really. I’ve just learned how to live with it.’
Her confession kills me, almost as much as her compassion for my feelings. It literally doubles me over. My head buries into her bust. To think she went through this alone. I’m so fucking angry.
‘You could tell Conor, but you couldn’t tell me?’ I hate the hurt in my tone. Hate the bitterness.
‘It was a long time ago. Conor and I… he was here. And interested. I needed him to understand why I couldn’t just jump into something. Then, in the meantime, we became friends…’
Rage courses furiously through my hammering heart.
It’s not Sasha I’m angry with.
It’s not even Conor.
It’s me.
I should have been there. For as long as I live, I’ll never forgive myself. How Sasha grew into the amazing woman before me, I’ll never know. She has the strength of lioness with the heart of Mother fucking Theresa.
Eventually, I manage to raise my face enough to meet her eye. ‘Him?’
She nods, her eyes welling with tears. Wrenching her into my arms, I hold her head as she sobs into my chest. Tears flow freely from my own eyes, saturating her hair. Together, we mourn the baby I didn’t know we’d made. Every milestone that might have been.
‘How far on did you get?’
‘Five months. I had no idea what was happening. One day I was in the restaurant and I just got this urge to push. Megan called the ambulance and he delivered an hour later.’
‘Did he live at all?’
She shakes her head, her face awash with fresh horror at the memory.
Slumping to the floor, I pull her on to my knees, rocking her back and forth as the salty liquid streaks her otherwise flawless face.
‘Shhh. Shhh. I’m here now. I’m so sorry, baby. I’ll never leave you again. Everything will be ok. We can’t bring him back, but I’d like to go and see where he’s…’
She nods, rubbing her eyes, nestling closer to my chest.
‘It might not be the right time to say this, Sasha, but I need to say it anyway. I’m going to marry you. We are going to have a houseful of babies. And you will never go through anything alone again in your life. I swear to you.’
She wraps her arms around my neck, pressing her lips zealously against mine. Sitting up, she straddles me on the floor, my back to the wall. I pull a condom out of my pocket as trembling fingers undo my zipper with a sense of urgency, but when she slides onto my dick, it’s anything but urgent.
It’s slow.
