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It was much harder upstairs.
There were cables on the floor and so much sawdust that at times it was hard to breathe because the ventilation in this old house wasn’t as good as it was in some of the newer ones.
I could hear him now, though, working in the room beyond his bedroom. The guestroom that Tyler and Reagan used when they stayed the night or that some of the guys from his MC crashed in when they tied one on the night before.
I paused in the doorway, peeking through the part in the plastic sheeting to watch him as he sanded the floor of the room. Sawdust clung to his chest as sweat beaded and ran down his muscles. He had on an old pair of worn out jeans that were my favorites, and I felt my heart start to pound.
Suddenly he looked up and grinned.
“Hey!” he called, turning the sander off. “Everything okay?”
I’d told him that I planned to go see my woman doctor today, but I hadn’t told him why.
Now, I was sure that he could see the terror written on my face.
I swallowed. “I need to talk to you, Rome.”
He stood up, and I could see fear building in him by the way he held himself.
He was preparing himself for a blow.
When he’d asked why I was going to the doctor, I’d told him that I was feeling funny and something was wrong.
Now, I had a feeling that he thought I was on the verge of dying.
“I’m not dying, Rome,” I told him. “In fact, other than one thing, I’m perfectly healthy.”
His shoulders slumped, and I saw his abdomen clench and unclench as he breathed through the fear.
“Then what is it?” he asked. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
I swiped at the traitorous tear that slipped free of my control.
Rome took a step toward me then, and I just knew he was about to wrap me up in a hug.
I couldn’t have him doing that.
When he found out, he might very well freak out on me, and despite what I’d said, I was still intimidated by his size, even though I knew he’d never hurt me on purpose.
I held up my hand, and he halted mid-step.
“Iz, you’re freaking me out,” he said, a frown on his face that was just as ferocious as the feeling currently taking root in my chest.
I licked my lips, then decided—to hell with it.
I had to tell him. There was no getting around it any longer.
This needed to happen and denying it wasn’t going to change the fact that I was pregnant with his child.
“I went to the doctor,” I said softly, looking at my hands. “I need to explain something. Will you sit down?”
He shook his head.
I sighed, unsurprised that he refused.
“When I had my baby, it was an emergency.” I paused, swallowing. I hated retelling this day. Hated it with a passion. It was hands down the worst day of my life. “My parents signed a release and told the doctor to do whatever was necessary to save me. But, in saving me, there were unavoidable complications that damaged me and left permanent scarring. I have so much internal scarring that I was told it would be physically impossible for me to ever have another child. That day is a total blur to me…and honestly, I couldn’t tell you everything that happened. I just remember that when I woke up, they told me my baby was dead, and I’d never have children again.”
“Your parents?” he asked.
I shook my head. “My parents, once they signed the required consent forms, left and never came back,” I explained. “It was Slate who was with me when the doctor told me.”
“Okay,” he nodded.
“Apparently, there was complication after complication. I hemorrhaged. Nothing went the way it was supposed to go, and they said that I was lucky to even have all of my reproductive parts after everything that happened,” I murmured. “My brother was the one to tell me that I’d never have children again…after my child had already died.”
“How did she die? Was she stillborn?” he asked hesitantly as if just saying the words would break me.
They wouldn’t.
My baby had died what felt like a lifetime ago, but still also felt like just yesterday.
The hole in my heart would always be there. I’d been very young at the time, and I hadn’t realized how much I’d wanted her until she was no longer there for me to have.
I nodded. “I apparently have cysts on my ovaries and uterus. I never knew about them…and to this day, they still don’t bother me. But they believe those cysts might have had something to do with the reason I wasn’t able to carry to term and that my baby was stillborn…but they’re all educated guesses. Nobody really knows why an otherwise healthy and perfect baby dies in the womb.”
