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It was killing him, this helplessness. He wanted to fix whatever grieved her. Wanted to replace her heartache with joy. He’d do anything. “Can you talk to me?”
“I-I can’t have children.” Her words crumbled away on another sob.
His heart squeezed tight. “Aw, honey.” He couldn’t even pretend to know what that would feel like. But he could imagine how difficult it must’ve been watching another woman give birth, bond with her newborn baby, when she would never experience that for herself. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not that Ican’thave children. I just—”
When she didn’t finish the thought, he tipped her chin up. Her face was damp and blotchy. Her lashes clumped together. She stared back, her eyes dull and lifeless despite the sparkle of tears.
The ravages of pain on her face wrecked him. He swept his thumb across her cheek, wishing he could wipe away her pain so easily. “Just what?”
She closed her eyes for a long moment. Her chest rose and fell against his.
He waited.
Then she opened her eyes and met his gaze. “I told you my mom died of a progressive disease, but I didn’t tell you... I might have it too. There’s a 50 percent chance that I do. And if I do have the disease and I had kids, there’d be a 50 percent chance they’d have it too.”
He couldn’t even fathom that Avery could have some terrible disease. She seemed so healthy. He digested what she’d said. “You said youcouldhave it. Surely there’s some kind of test to see if—”
“There is. There is a test. But it’s Huntington’s disease. You don’t know how awful it is, Wes. It struck my mom in her thirties, and I watched her become a different person. She became delusional and paranoid. She suffered from tremors and loss of muscle control and it all just got worse and worse. And then I watched herdie.”
She lifted her head from his chest. “I could literally become symptomatic any day, and if I found out I carried the gene, I don’t know what I would do. I don’t know how I would cope.”
This was about so much more than infertility—he saw that now. The woman was living with the very real possibility that she might suffer and die the way her mother did. Her future was so uncertain. She didn’t have the luxury of planning out her life—not really.
What a terrible thing to have hanging over her head. He swept away another tear. “I’m sorry you have to deal with this.But you don’t give yourself enough credit—you’re stronger than you think.”
She shook her head. “I’m not strong.”
“Look at all you’ve accomplished. You got through medical school—which is no small feat all on its own—and now you run your own clinic. You’ve single-handedly taken on the health care of this entire community.” It struck him that hiring another doctor was about so much more than giving her a well-deserved break. She was providing for this town... just in case.
Aw, God, she’s such a caring, selfless person. And her grief is tearing me up.
He cupped her face. “Avery... you’re the strongest woman I know.”
“I’m scared to death.”
His insides went soft and mushy even as a smile curved his lips. “Don’t you see? That only makes you braver.”
She wanted to believe him—it was right there in her eyes. He wished she could see herself the way he did.
Another tear tracked a trail down her face.
He pressed a kiss to her forehead, wanting nothing more than to offer comfort. “If anyone can handle this, Avery Robinson, it’s you.”
Another tear. Another kiss. This one to her temple. Another to her wet cheek. He brushed his thumb across her impossibly soft skin. And set his forehead against hers.
With each touch, each brush of his nose against hers, he willed her to absorb his comfort, his strength, his belief in her. One moment bled into another. One second he was breathing in her warm breath, and the next his lips were on hers. Offering comfort, tasting the salt of her tears.
And then she turned more fully into him and pressed her palm to his jaw. The subtle shift in position took things to a different level. It was no longer about the giving and receiving of comfort. It was about hunger and need.
He tightened his arms around her and drank her in. She responded with equal fervor, and his heart kicked like a jackhammer. He couldn’t get enough of this, of her. How had he gone all this time without her in his arms, in his life?
The question startled him. He couldn’t think of Avery in terms of forever—could he? Not with Lillian waiting in Albany. The thought crashed over him like a cold wave.
***
Avery sank into the warm cocoon of Wes’s arms. She yielded to his soft exploration. Couldn’t get close enough to him. She wanted more of his comfort, more of his love, more of him. The pain piercing her heart only moments before faded in the wake of his magnificent kiss. Nothing had ever felt so good. So right.
