My stomach twisting in sharp waves that stole the air from my chest. Blood soaking through my dress while panic tore through me because I thought I was going to die in that place.
And worse than that, I knew the baby was dying with me.
“I didn’t believe them at first. But when I did, when I believed you were gone, I wanted to die.”
Seth’s eyes don’t leave mine, but something changes in them.
“I didn’t think I wanted to be a mom,” I admit. “Not before.”
I glance down for a second, my fingers tightening around the edge of his shirt, then force myself to keep going. My throat tightens.
“But after I thought you were gone, the baby was the only piece of you I had left. The only thing I could protect.”
I shake my head.
“I fought so hard to keep it safe. I did everything I could.” My voice cracks. “But it wasn’t enough.”
Tears burn behind my eyes. I blink them back hard, but one slips free anyway. I wipe it away quickly.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
Seth goes still beside me. For a moment he just stares at the ground. He reaches for me, pulling me into him until my face presses against his chest.
“That’s not your fault,” he says quietly. “It was mine.”
I look up at him.
“I should’ve never taken you to that hotel,” he continues. “We should’ve left the country the second I knew that PI was on us. I should’ve gotten you out before any of this started.”
His voice drops lower.
“All of it is my fault.”
I shake my head immediately.
“No, it wasn’t your fault, Seth.”
I draw in a slow breath.
“I think the world is just a fucked up place,” I tell him. “And we keep getting fucked by it.”
The corner of his mouth twitches, but the guilt doesn’t leave his eyes.
I reach into my hoodie pocket and pull out my phone.
“There’s this song. I play it when I think about the baby. It makes it hurt a little less.”
I open Spotify and queue the track.
“Sienna.”
The soft intro fills the quiet around us.
“I didn’t want to forget,” I whisper. “So I gave it a song. Something to hold onto.”
Seth watches me place the phone between us and let the music play low. He closes his eyes. For the first time in hours, maybe days, he takes a full breath.
I lean my head against his shoulder. His hand closes around mine.
