“What are you going to do, then?”
She takes a deep breath then shrugs. “I think I need to speak with my father. He isn’t going to be happy. But then…Boston is nice. Maybe I’ll start fresh here.”
“Will he let you?”
She doesn't answer. Just begins fixing her hair and smoothing out the blanket on her lap. "Could you get me some more ice chips, please?"
"Nat."
"Leave it, Everett. I'll handle it." Her cold, unaffected mask slides back into place.
“Natasha, you had one job, and you couldn’t even do that right. You’re a woman, for God’s sake, and you couldn’t even grow a fucking baby. That was your last chance. You have ruined everything, just like you did all those years ago.”
“I’m aware, Father.” There is a brokenness but also a determination to her voice.
“You have forced my hand, Natasha. It’s time I contact the Alessi family.”
“No. Please, Daddy. You can’t. I’ll figure out something. I'll get you your money. Please, I just need more time.”
"You had eight years. I can't wait any longer."
I was about to walk into Natasha’s hospital room when I overheard their conversation. I didn’t mean to be nosy, but it’s not difficult when her father has no regard for who hears his reprimand of his own daughter for something that was out of her control.
My stomach turns over.
I am not a stranger to emotional and verbal abuse—in fact, I would prefer to be hit or burned. Scars of the heart and mind are much more damaging than of the flesh.
And for the first time, I am coming to understand that maybe Natasha is just as damaged as me. She just chose to cope differently.
Does that excuse her vile behavior toward me? No. But does it give her an opportunity to make a change? Yes.
Gage called me while I was at Mill’s this morning and told me about Natasha losing the baby. As much as I dislike Natasha, no woman should ever experience this kind of loss. It would have killed me to lose Rune at any point during the pregnancy. I can’t even imagine what she’s going through. And Ev, God, this was his chance to have another baby. I can’t give him any more, and now this one is gone too. He must be devastated.
Gage said he was still at the hospital, but I can’t imagine him letting someone speak to Natasha this way. He must not be in the room right now, which means I am the only person who can help her.
I knock on the door and step in. The room is much the same as the room I had after I gave birth to Rune. Why they would put grieving mothers and mothers who are holding their babies on the same floor, I have no idea. It’s truly cruel and should be changed. But that’s beside the point right now.
“Hello, Natasha. The nurse is going to come in shortly to do an exam to check your bleeding.” I turn to Natasha’s father. His cold stare sends shivers down my spine. Jesus, no wonder Natasha can instill so much fear into someone. She got it from her father.
“Sir, do you mind?” I motion my hand toward the door, and he narrows his eyes at me.
“I’m fine here. I will stay at the head of the bed.”
“I really do insist.” I narrow my eyes back at him, challenging him to test me. Despite our differences, the woman in me is ready to fight for the woman lying in this bed. The woman who just lost her baby.
I hold his stare, and he concedes. “Fine. I will be back, Natasha, and we will continue our discussion.”
When he leaves, slamming the door, I turn to look at her. The once intimidating, perfect girl who teased me and mocked me in middle school and high school is now a broken, damaged, and scared girl like me. I feel a pull toward her. Like calling to like.
“When is the nurse coming?” Her voice is soft but strong, despite her physical and emotional state. She runs her hands over her braid and straightens her blankets.
“Oh, she isn’t. I lied. I needed him away from you. God, he is awful, isn’t he?”
She laughs, and I…well I wasn’t expecting that.
“That’s my father for you.” She picks at the scratchy pink hospital-grade blanket lying over her lap. She’s in a silk gray pajama set, clearly not comfortable in the hospital gown, and her long, silky blonde hair is braided and slung over her shoulder. She’s beautiful. A spark of envy lights in my chest, but I blow it out.
You are beautiful too, Leo.
