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The sharp intake of breath from Maggie told me that she understood my pain. Her arms tightened around me and held me.
“She hasn’t seen me in a year, but she’s married.” I said the words, realizing that was possibly what hurt the worst.
Maggie tilted her head back to look up at me. “I’m sorry,” she said simply. It was her way. She never said words to sugarcoat things. I loved that about her.
“It fucking hurts,” I said, looking down into her eyes. “But I realized something tonight. Something I’ve battled with and didn’t understand until now.”
Maggie waited for me to say more.
“I was her son, but she loved my father so fiercely that he was her world. He was her home. Losing him destroyed her, and… I can see how it did.” I reached up and cupped her face in my hand. “If she loved him the way I love you, then it makes it easier to accept. I couldn’t survive losing you, Maggie.”
She turned her head to kiss my palm, then looked back up at me. “You’ll never lose me,” she replied.
I couldn’t bring myself to even voice the fear of her dying before me. I just nodded my head once and then covered her mouth with mine. What I felt for her was bigger than even I could describe. It was more than simply love. There were no words for it, but I’d spend my lifetime showing her what I couldn’t express.
CHAPTER SIX
MAGGIE
I didn’t have much time to worry about the running water being loud enough to drown out the sound of my vomiting. All I could do at the moment was grip the toilet and pray this ended soon. West had still been in bed sleeping when my eyes opened this morning and the first wave of nausea hit me. I had been as quiet as I could, but getting to the bathroom quickly had been my first priority.
Last night after I had led West back to the bed, I had lain awake until his breathing had told me he’d fallen asleep. He was hurting, and when he hurt, so did I. Maybe he understood his mother’s actions now, but I wasn’t sure that I ever would. Telling him that didn’t help matters, though. I hadremained silent and let him talk. That was what he needed most.
The thought of West dying was something I didn’t want to consider. As much as I loved my aunt Coralee, Brady, and even my uncle Boone, West was my family. He was where my home was. Wherever he was, I wanted to be. This child inside of me was a part of him. I already loved it just as fiercely, and no loss or pain would change that.
I sat back on my heels and took a deep breath to make sure I was done before standing up and going over to the sink to wash my mouth out. I stared at my reflection. My face was far too pale, and West was going to notice. Hopefully a hot shower would put some color in my cheeks. I went to the tub and turned on the water. Closing my eyes tightly, I focused on breathing as more nausea waves hit me. This was worse than a stomach virus. Throwing up didn’t even ease it.
I glanced back down at the toilet, wondering if I should stay close to it for a few more minutes, but decided there was nothing else inside of me. I had cleared that out already. Instead I took off my clothing and stepped into the warmth of the running water. It was nice. The sickness didn’t go away, but it was soothed some. Maybe I should stay in here all morning.
Taking my time, I finished washing my hair and thenmy body. When I was done, I was tempted to stand under the water until it ran cold. But that would be unfair to West and Aunt Coralee if they needed to shower.
With one last blast of the warmth, I turned it off and stepped out to dry off. My nausea was still there, but I did feel clean. Opening the bathroom door, I stepped out to see West standing there staring at me. His arms were crossed over his chest and his jaw clenched tight. It was his angry stance.
It was a rare moment that it was ever directed at me. The last time I got that look from him was because I’d walked back to my apartment alone from class in the dark and not called him to tell him I needed a ride. He’d been furious with me then and we’d fought about it for maybe thirty minutes. Then we’d ended up not making it to the bedroom and made up on the sofa.
This morning I didn’t feel well enough to figure out what had caused this reaction.
“What?” I asked, feeling weak.
He said nothing, but his gaze studied my face and I saw the muscles in his neck flex. I started to demand a reason for this when his eyes dropped to my stomach. The nausea intensified as realization sank in. He had heard me. He knew.
Wrapped in a towel, I walked past him toward thebedroom. I went directly to the closet, where the suitcase lay open. I wasn’t going to talk first. I had imagined many reactions from West when I told him, but this was not one of them.
The bedroom door clicked shut as I picked up a pair of panties.
“I heard you, Maggie.” He stated what I had already figured out.
Turning around, I looked at him. “Okay,” I replied.
“I’m assuming it’s not a stomach virus.”
“Nope,” I said.
“Have you taken a test?”
“Several.”
He let out a deep sigh and ran his hand through his hair. “Were you planning on telling me?”
