She miscarriedourchild.
My child.
She called me for help, and I ignored her.
Jamie carries on as if he hasn’t just detonated a bomb in my heart. “I tried to get her to tell me who the father was, but that was like trying to get blood from a stone.” He shakes his head once, his eyes darkening with contempt as his hand tightens around his mug. “But man, I’d give anything to know that information.”
“I—”
“Myguess?” he goes on. “Adam.”
My head shakes. “Jamie . . .”
He sits up, and I glance toward the doorway, where a sleepy Evie is stretching one arm above her head. “Morning,” she says, yawning as she shuffles toward the coffee pot, rubbing her lower back absentmindedly.
“Morning, sis. I heard Brandon’s chest makes an awesome pillow.”
She snorts, offering me a timid smile. I try to return it, but I can’t. Neither she nor Jamie has any idea that my world has just been turned upside down.
“How’s Grandma doing?” she asks Jamie once she joins us at the table.
“Better than expected, but she’s doped up on pain meds right now. Dad said she was singing worship music this morning like nothing even happened.”
Evie laughs once. “You’re kidding.”
“The pain will catch up eventually, but for now, she’s in good spirits. She was asking to see you. As soon as you’re ready, we can head over there.”
Evie nods, then gives me a bashful look. “Will you come?”
“I—” My heart jumps into my throat, wanting nothing more than to be there for her right now, knowing how deep the wounds I’ve inflicted go. I glance down at my watch, remembering I need to pick up Teddy this morning. “I’m sorry. I would, but I’ve got Teddy today.”
She nods again. “Give him a big hug and kiss from me.”
My heart breaks in new places. No wonder she’s always been so attached to Teddy. Everything makes sense now. Who would trust me? Not even I would, knowing what I do now. I abandoned Evie, and when she reached out for help in her most vulnerable moment of need, I remained silent.
I’m no better than her mother.
I recall with anger and bitterness and regret the dozens of times I silenced her calls and ignored her texts. To think I thought I was doing us a favor.
Was her last callthecall? Now I’ll never know.
Whether Evie forgives me or not is moot. I will never forgive myself.
Ever.
Chapter 36
Evie
ChristmasattheMontgomeryhousehold has never been the most . . .festiveof affairs. Even less so now that Grandma is in the hospital. Dad’s house is silent, save for the sounds of Isabelle’s kids program coming from the TV in the living room and NSYNC’sHome for Christmasholiday album playing on an old boombox on the kitchen counter.
Francine sets a tea cup down in front of me at the kitchen table, followed by a silver tea set. “I can’t remember how you take your coffee,” she says, sitting down across from me. It’s just me and her in the kitchen. “But there’s milk and sugar if you want it.”
Delighted, I peruse the contents of the tea set. There’s a quaint teapot, milk jug, and small bowl stacked high with brown and white sugar cubes that look like they’re meant for miniature horses. I pick up two cubes with the miniature tongs and plop them into my tea cup. “Thank you.”
She grins. “You’re quite welcome.”
I shyly eye her as I stir the coffee. She’s sporting a blunt, straight bob these days, but her hair used to be as long as mine. Streaks of gray I’ve never seen before peek through the strands.
