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Charlie steadied her as she stood, wrapped his arms around her waist, and walked with her to her room. He stayed close until she seemed steady on her feet in front of her en suite sink, where she washed her face, then brushed her teeth. He went to her bedroom, opened a drawer and pulled out an oversized T-shirt.
His T-shirt.
How many nights had he watched her pull on this shirt after they’d made love? Sleepily, she’d smile at him, then curl back up in bed. He’d tuck her in with a kiss, and then head to his place feeling like a million bucks. He’d never see that love-laden smile again. Never be the one to kiss her goodnight. He squeezed the worn cotton material between his fingers, then shook off the moment of nostalgia.
She was better off without him. Just look at what had happened to his mother. He had his career. His career was what was important.
“Here.” He held out the shirt through the bathroom door. “Put this on.”
She glanced at his offering, then bit into her lower lip.
“I’ll wait here while you change. If you feel sick again or need my help, call out. I’ll be right there.”
Taking the shirt, she nodded and shut the bathroom door.
The lock clicked and it echoed through his head that Savannah had forever closed off a part of herself to him.
As much as he tried to tell himself that was okay, as he sank onto the foot of her bed he wondered at his great sense of loss when going to Nashville was definitely for the best.
CHAPTER FOUR
FEELING PHYSICALLY BETTER after emptying her stomach but mortified, Savannah splashed cold water over her face.
She’d just thrown up in her bathroom with Charlie right there.
To give him credit, he’d been a champ, keeping her hair back and putting the cold cloth against her forehead. But she wasn’t giving him credit. No way.
Wiping her hands on a towel, drying them, she then placed her palms over her lower abdomen.
Oh, God. What was she going to do?
How was she going to explain vomiting?
She’d known for a month now and hadn’t told him.
She studied her reflection—the pale skin, the tired eyes, the tension tugging at her features.
Why hadn’t she told him?
Because he didn’t deserve to know?
Maybe telling him would be punishment because he didn’t want children, didn’t want any ties to her.
Was it fear that really held her back?
The fear that, although she loved this baby no matter what, she might be on her own raising their child? She’d be fine. Just look at what a great job Chrissie was doing with Joss. Savannah could rock the single mom thing, too.
“You okay in there?”
She closed her eyes, unable to stand the reflection staring back at her a moment longer.
“Savannah?”
“I’m fine.”
That wasn’t true. Not really. And they both knew it, although he had no clue as to the real reason.
* * *
