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He made a muffled sound, but she averted her eyes to the floor. It was easier to talk about this when she didn’t have to deal with his emotions too.

“After that, they did an autopsy.” She swallowed back a surge of nausea. Even years later, the thought of them cutting into her baby was intolerable, and she stopped for a moment to control her breathing.

In: nose. Out: mouth.

She could do this. She could. He waited patiently, his own breath sounding a lot less controlled than hers.

“They couldn’t find a definitive cause of death,” she continued. “I mean, there are possible contributing factors to SIDS. It was a teenage pregnancy. He was premature. And I-I . . .” This was the hardest one to say out loud. It was the one that made her feel like a monster. “I didn’t take much in the way of prenatal vitamins. I was in denial for the first five months. I refused to believe what was happening. I kept hoping the symptoms would just go away. I was terrified and just wanted it to be a really bad dream. I wished him away.”

She laughed, the sound ugly and devoid of humor.

“I guess in the end I got my wish.”

Harris swore again, and this time she lifted her eyes to meet his. He looked devastated and like he had aged ten years in the last few minutes. But the only way Tina could get through this was to bury her emotions, and that meant suppressing her natural instinct to comfort as well.

“Don’t say that! You didn’t in any way cause what happened, Tina,” he said, his hoarse voice filled with urgency.

“I know that,” she admitted. “Logically I know that. Emotionally? I wouldn’t be human if I didn’t feel responsible. I was his mother. I should have loved him from the very beginning.”

“You were young and frightened. Your initial reaction was perfectly normal. You were alone. God.”

“I wanted answers. I needed answers. Accepting ‘unknown’ as a cause of death was a bitter pill to swallow.”

“Sweetheart . . .”

“Please don’t call me that,” she pleaded rawly.

“Tina,” he amended, his voice hollow. “Sometimes we don’t get the answers we need or the outcome we crave. Sometimes life just fucking blows.”

“Stick that on a Hallmark card,” she joked half-heartedly, wiping the tears from her face.

“I’d make millions,” he countered, giving her a sad smile and swiping at his own wet cheeks.

They heard a car crunch up the graveled driveway, and Harris glanced at the wall clock in surprise.

“It’s only nine thirty. They’re back early.”

“Harris,” Tina began, not exactly sure what she wanted to say, but she was interrupted by the angry slam of a car door, followed by equally furious footsteps up the porch steps. The door to the house next door opened and then crashed shut seconds later.

“What the fuck?” Harris growled when the sound startled Clara, who began to wail. Tina got up and reached into the crib and picked the crying baby up without hesitation.

She was rocking her gently when the lighter, feminine footsteps reached her front door. Harris swung it open before Libby could knock.

“You’re back early.” Tina wasn’t sure if Harris knew that his words sounded like an accusation. Libby looked exhausted, and her eyes automatically sought and then found her baby. Surprise, followed by pleasure, lit up her expression when she saw Clara being cradled by Tina.

“It wasn’t meant to be a late night,” she responded absently as she padded to Tina and the still-crying Clara. She reached for her daughter with eager arms, and Tina carefully handed the little one over.

“Oh, sweetie, did you miss me?” Libby crooned to the baby. “I’m so sorry. Mummy’s here now.” She looked at Tina and smiled warmly. “The evening went well, I take it?”

Tina nearly laughed at that question. So much had been revealed between her and Harris that her irrational fear of looking after Clara seemed like ancient history now. But she knew that that was what her friend was asking about.

“As can be expected. A few hiccups, but we overcame them.”

“Harris.” Libby shifted her gaze to her brother-in-law, and Tina was distressed to see her expression go cold. “Thank you for helping out.”

Harris nodded uncomfortably, avoiding Libby’s gaze.

What was that about?

“I take it my brother is in a foul mood?” Harris asked, and Libby dropped a kiss on Clara’s head before answering.

“I handed him divorce papers tonight,” she said. “I gather, from his reaction to them, that he wasn’t expecting it.”

Harris swore vehemently beneath his breath and smoothed a hand over his face. He looked shattered and at the end of his tether. And like a man who had lost everything he had ever cared about. And it made Tina desperate to reach out and hug him. She wanted to tell him that everything would be okay. That she was here for him. That she always wanted to be here for him.

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