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“Do you really want me to raise a baby in this environment?” I take a step in Carter’s direction, my heart thumping erratically inside of my chest. “How do you picture that going? While I get the baby ready for bedtime, you come home covered in dirt and sweat and blood? Or what about when he’s old enough to go to school? Is he even going to be safe?”
Because as long as Carter and I are part of that world, our daughter’s chances of a normal and peaceful life are doomed before he even gets here. And I can’t stand the thought.
I want afternoons spent playing games and watching TV. I want bedtime routines, lullabies, and bubble baths with plastic toys. And I want mornings where I sit across from Carter while he feeds the baby and plays with her.
I want all of it and more, but the closer we get to that dream, the further away it feels.
Carter bridges the distance between us but doesn’t touch me. “I am going to do everything I fucking can to protect our baby girl. The fact that you would even think otherwise is insulting.”
“I never said you wouldn’t. Our enemies aren’t going to hesitate to come after her—”
“You think I don’t know that? You think I haven’t spent every waking hour thinking about how I’m going to keep our daughter safe and what I’ll need to do in order to ensure that? You have no fucking clue what I’m thinking.”
My eyes widen, and I reach between us to take his hand, but he moves it away. “Carter, please. I’m not the bad guy here. I didn’t plan any of this—”
Carter’s expression is stormy. “You sure as hell didn’t stop it either.”
I drop my hand and take an involuntary step back. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Why didn’t you get the goddamn implant put back in, huh?” Carter is pacing now, like some kind of caged animal. Each movement is slow and jerky, and the anger is rolling off of him in waves. “If you’d remembered to do it, we wouldn’t be in this fucking mess to begin with.”
“I was on pain meds! How could I possibly have remembered something like that? I’d just lost my dad, in case you’d forgotten.”
Cater wheels around to face me, and he curls his hands into fists. “Stop using his fucking death as an excuse. We’ve all lost people before. You need to get over it.”
I snap my mouth shut and stare at Carter as if I’m looking at a complete stranger.
“You should’ve remembered the goddamn birth control,” Carter continues as he advances on me. “We wouldn’t be having this conversation. Hell, we wouldn’t even be worried about any of this if it weren’t for you.”
I suck in a harsh breath and dig my nails into my palms.
Carter is breathing heavily now, and his eyes are wide and crazed.
Something in me cracks open, and a whimper falls from my lips. I don’t realize I’m crying until my shoulders shake. I take a few more steps back and wrap my arms around myself. Then I spin on my heels and dart out of the room. On my way downstairs, I race past Anita, who calls out after me, but I ignore it.
I’m crying so hard I can’t see anything through the tears. And it isn’t until I run straight into Sam that I stop to breathe, little gasps of air that hurt.
Each breath hurts like a knife through my heart.
Sam’s arms come up around me as she leads me through the front door and into my living room. There, she pulls me onto the couch and tucks me into her side. I curl my legs under me, bury my head into the crook of her neck, and continue to cry.
Carter’s vicious words echo in a loop in my head when I hear him at the front door.
There is a loud cacophony of voices, including Anita’s, but I can barely make out anything. Sam stands up and returns with a glass of water and a box of tissues. I lean sideways and see Carter in the doorway, with Tristan and Anita blocking the door. Through a narrow slit in between them, I see Carter’s hair in tufts on top of his head and a crazed gleam in his eyes.
“Go back to the house, Carter,” Anita says firmly. “You’re in no shape to have any kind of discussion, and neither is Isabella.”
“She’s my fiancée,” Carter bites out, his gaze darting between the two of them. “You can’t keep her from me.”
“She doesn’t want to be around you right now. Isabella needs time to calm down and reflect,” Anita insists in the same tone of voice. “No one is keeping you from her, but all this stress and tension can’t be good for the baby. I know you know that.”
Carter exhales. “I want to talk to her.”
Anita glances over her shoulder at me and holds my gaze. I give her a slight shake of my head.
She gives me an imperceptible nod before swinging her gaze back to Carter’s. She stands up straighter as Sam sits next to me and drapes an arm over my shoulders. “Now isn’t the time, Carter. I know the two of you fought, but you need time to cool off. Both of you.”
I hate that Anita is right. Because even as I sit there, half of me missing Carter and the other half shrinking away from him, I know it won’t last.
