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“It’s all right.” But it wasn’t all right, because it was her responsibility to watch the little guy and she’d failed. Failed miserably. “As long as he’s going to be okay. Are you sure about that?” If she felt as guilt-stricken as she looked, she was feeling really bad right now, and that wasn’t fair.
“Doctor’s words,” he assured her. “The EMT was right about the broken wrist. It will put a dent in his summer activities, but it’s fixable.”
“Good. Good.” She reached out a hand to Zeke’s shoulder. Tears filled her eyes, and a few slipped over.
“Liz.”
“I’m fine, really.” She sniffled and he grabbed a few tissues from a small box and thrust them her way. “You know what they say. It’s all right to cry after the emergency. Not during.”
“You’ve never been much of a crier, Liz. Ever.”
“Well, there’s some truth in that. I suppose it depends on the situation,” she finished as she swiped her cheeks. “This guy’s worth a few tears.”
“Aren’t all kids?”
This time she raised her head. She stared at him as if he’d grown two heads. A flash of anger, or maybe disappointment, changed her expression, and then she faced him, dead-on. “Yes, Heath. All kids should be loved, cherished, cared for and mourned. Regardless of the circumstances surrounding them.”
“Lizzie—” He started to move her way, confused, but she held up a hand. He stopped.
“Don’t ‘Lizzie’ me. Where were you twelve years ago when your first son passed away? Where were you when I was in that wretched little hospital, trying to save Matthew’s life, and failed? Where were you when I begged for help, for you to come and stand by me as I miscarried? Because I understand your love for Zeke, Heath. I really do. But where was this love when our tiny baby died? Because I sure could have used a dose of it back then.”
Her words shell-shocked him.
He stared at her, unable to digest and believe what he was hearing. “You didn’t end our pregnancy on purpose?”
She recoiled as if slapped, then started to move away.
He stepped in her way. “Liz, talk to me. Please. I had no idea that you didn’t end the pregnancy. Your father and grandfather told me they’d sent you off to have it terminated so you wouldn’t mess up your freshman year at Yale.”
“And you believed them?”
He hadn’t thought she could look more disappointed and disillusioned, but he was wrong. So wrong, because the minute she said the words, he realized the truth. Lizzie—his Lizzie—wouldn’t have done such a thing, so why had he believed their lies? Because he was guilt-stricken over what happened?
He’d figure that out later. Right now he needed to talk to her. Sort this out. Beg forgiveness. “There was no way to get in touch with you. I tried. They’d taken your phone and no one would give me any information. Including Corrie. When Sean called me and offered me a job up here, I came north to start a new life. Liz, I’m sorry. So dreadfully, horribly sorry. I don’t even know what to say to you right now to make this better because I can’t make it better.”
* * *
He looked penitent. And sad. Concern drew his brows together, and he looked as if he really cared, but she knew better. “I called you. When things went bad, I called you, over and over. You didn’t answer and you didn’t return my messages. I faced losing that baby, our baby, all by myself, and I lost a part of myself with him. No.” She stepped back when Heath made a move to embrace her. “Don’t touch me. I thought I knew you, Heath.”
“Lizzie, you did. You do.” He kept his voice soft to match hers as Zeke slept on.
“The young man I fell in love with would never have believed I could do such a thing. He would never accept the idea that I would terminate a life.”
He started to move forward again, but she slipped to the side, and out of the cubicle.
She wouldn’t let him see her break down.
She wouldn’t let him have the chance to offer words of comfort now because she’d needed them then. She’d needed them so badly that her heart broke for lack of it.
She crossed the ER, then the parking lot, then climbed into her car.
She’d meant to stay with him while Zeke mended, but she couldn’t. Not now.
He probably thought his excuse was understandable, but it wasn’t. Weeks had passed from when she was sent away to when the pregnancy failed. He could have—
She steered toward the road as her conscience kicked into high gear.
Could have what? He was thrown out with nothing but the clothes he had. Where would he be now if Sean hadn’t offered him help? And how did Sean know to offer that help?
