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Now, she was sleeping with my father and breaking up my relationship. Maybe I hadn’t known her at all.
I heard the door slide open behind me. I didn’t wait for Adam to say something. Raising the sketchbook above my head, I asked the question I needed to know. “Did you look at this?”
I could feel him deciding if he was going to tell the truth. I don’t know if he realized how much weighed on his answer. How I couldn’t take another lie. If he lied, it would be the end for us. Right here.
“Yes.” I didn’t know if it was relief or anxiety, making it hard to breathe. “You’re still a talented artist.”
“It was personal.”
“I know, but I’m not sorry.” My lips pursed together as I listened to his footsteps. I turned away so I didn’t have to look at him. “It told me things you never would.”
“They’re just drawings.” I tucked the book under the blanket, not wanting to analyze each one. Not wanting to relive them. I drew them because some pain had to be excised. Some pain needs an outlet, or it’ll eat you alive.
“Look at me, nightling.” The old nickname wormed its way into my chest, warming my heart. Or maybe it was his deep voice. The way he commanded me.
Reluctantly, I flicked my eyes to him. The breath caught in my lungs as my gaze raked over his body. He leaned against a pillar, dressed only in pajama pants. But it wasn’t the carved muscles that grabbed my attention. Not the perfectly separated eight-pack. Or the thickness of his biceps. I barely even noticed the new scars marring his skin.
Instead, my gaze fell to the tattoo on his chest. It was my drawing. The two of us standing in the field where we always met. He placed his hand on the image, directly over his heart. “They mean something to me.”
“When?” I breathed. He hated me; why would he do this?
“Before.” There was a sadness in his eyes as he tilted his head. “The day before.”
I didn’t think I had any emotions left. But I felt my heart bleed as he said it. I’d thought he’d abandoned me all these years. Thought he was off happy living his life while I wallowed in my pain. But he’d been just as devastated as I was.
Except now he had to deal with the miscarriage. For me, it was years ago. The ache had dulled. For him, it was happening right this instant.
I was a coward because I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t watch him live through it when I’d barely survived. “I can’t do this. I need to go.”
But before I could even stand, he moved. His hands landed on my knees as he crouched in front of me. “Please don’t go. Stay with me.”
My throat closed as I stared into his piercing blue eyes. They were so much softer than yesterday. Not quite the boy I knew, but close. The breath shuddered in my lungs as he tucked my hair behind my ears and cupped my face.
“Give us another chance. It was taken from us, nightling.” His thumbs stroked my cheeks. I couldn’t stop myself from leaning into his touch. I’d missed it so much. Missed his comfort and support. “I know I’ve been an asshole. I’ve done terrible things since I’ve been back, and I’m sorry. I—I hated you.”
I shoved his hands off, pushing back into the swing. His words were like a slap in the face. To have the person you’d loved more than anyone else tell you they hated you. Few things were worse.
He dropped his hands, but he didn’t move away. Instead, he grasped my knees again as he sighed deeply. “Not for what I thought you did. I knew you were young. I never blamed you for that. But the reasons she told me.”
His breath fogged in the air around us as he stroked my skin softly. I didn’t want to crave it, but I did, desperately. “She said you believed your father. That I wasn’t good enough for you. And you didn’t want anything to do with the baby. Didn’t want any part of me. So you killed us.”
His voice broke as he leaned forward, resting his head on my chest. I could feel each of his strangled breaths. His agony seeped into my bones. The pain twisted my heart as I reached for him.
I brushed my fingers through his thick, red hair. I could feel his body relaxing. I hated Britney even more in this moment. I told her things about Adam, and she’d used them to break us apart. She’d tortured him in the worst way possible.
I gasped as he slipped his hands under the blanket and placed them on my stomach. He stroked me through my shirt. Rubbing my belly over and over like it would bring back what we’d lost.
My chest burned as I continued to brush his hair. It hurt to be like this. To touch him with affection instead of hatred. To feel like we were us again.
“Where are we?” I asked because it seemed like the simplest question. A safe topic that wouldn’t hurt us.
The breath stilled in my chest as he looked up at me. There were so many emotions swirling in his blue eyes. I felt like I could drown in them. In sorrow and regret. Hope and love.
“It’s our house.” He cupped my cheek, running his thumb just below my eye. He stared at me like he couldn’t believe I was here. Like I wasn’t real. “I bought it for us.”
“Our house?” I choked on the words.
“You needed a place to go after the baby was born. Somewhere safe from your father.” His gaze clouded as he looked past me, staring at the cottage like he was picturing what could have been. “I had it furnished except the baby’s room. I thought we could do it together. I haven’t been back here in years. I couldn’t face it after everything happened. Last night was the first time.”
