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“Why do you even care? She left you! She broke your heart, and now she’s back to fuck you up worse.”
“She left, but she didn’t leave me. She was already skittish about the baby, scared out of her mind. Then she overheard your bullshit and thought the world was stacked against her. The doubts took over, and she made herself so sick she lost the baby. The blame pushed her into a deep depression that overwhelmed her. Yeah, she left, but she headed straight into the hands of doctors and therapists who pulled her back from the brink of suicide.”
Mom’s sharp cry fills the space, and Miller’s body convulses. The fire of righteousness dies and is replaced with full-blown shock. Dad’s hand lands on my chest, bunches my shirt, and he yanks me to him, knocking the air out of my lungs.
“Oh, fuck,” he murmurs in my ear.
I was twenty-three the last time my dad hugged me like this, and at the time, it was what kept me standing when I learned Darby lost the baby. But today, his comfort does nothing to quash the disloyalty.
I push back out of his reach and look pointedly at my mom. “You knew. You knew what was happening with her, and that’s why you pushed me to go after her.”
“I had a feeling but didn’t know for sure until a while later when Annie confided in me. There were never any details about her counseling, but I’ve always wondered what sent her over the edge. This morning, you confirmed it. She overheard something that sounded awful. But it wasn’t as petty as it sounds, Pierce. She heard the worst and didn’t stick around for the best. We shared our doubts, as we have every right to do. But then we shared our joy. You were having a baby, and the excitement outweighed the trepidation.” Mom lays her hand on my arm.
“You’re wrong. You had no right to have doubts because I didn’t! She came over early that night to tell you we were having a boy. She wanted your help in surprising me.”
Maybe I should have chosen my words more carefully, but seeing as I have lost my mind, it didn’t happen. All the color drains from her face, and she begins to sway. Dad’s at her side before her knees give out.
She grips in his arm and looks up with tears building. “A boy. She lost her boy.”
Something passes between them that I don’t understand, and his face goes hard. Warren Kendrick is usually a pretty relaxed man, but the stony look he throws my way makes me snap my jaw shut.
“Son, you need to get a hold of whatever is raging inside and remember who loves you. Everyone in this family adored Darby.” He flicks his eyes to Miller then back to me. “We did wrong, and we didn’t have a chance to make it right twelve years ago. But now we do.”
The pompous dick in me stays alive and points to them. “Damn right. The first thing you need to do is get a hold of Annie and make an order so big it forces Darby into her bakery for days.”
“Why?” Mom recovers quickly.
“Because since she ran out of my house last night after throwing her guts up, I can’t find her. I want her where I know she’s safe.”
“We can do that. I can get to Annie.”
“What are you going to do?” Miller dares to ask me.
“None of your fucking business. You stay out of my way, and I’ll stay out of yours.”
“Man, I had no idea what was happening with her head.” He has the nerve to look guilty.
“Fuck you.”
I spin, leaving them all gaping. Add another notch to my apology tour.
I jump in my truck, knowing someone may need to bail me out of jail if my next move doesn’t go well.
•—•—•—•—•
It’s eight o’clock before she finally drives up, and it’s surprising she doesn’t keep driving when she sees me sitting on her deck. I sip my beer and watch her climb out slowly, dragging a huge bag with her. She gives me one look and focuses on the ground as she makes her way to the shed.
“Hey.” Her shoulders sag with exhaustion, and her voice is small and weak.
“Hey.”
Her head pivots to both sides, and she leans to the side to look beyond the building. “Did you walk here?”
“Truck is parked around by the barn. I walked through with your dad earlier.”
“Ah, the horses.” She nods in understanding. “Did he ask you to come?”
“Not exactly.”
“Why are you waiting on me?” She still is at the foot of the stairs, not approaching.
“Can I help you with that?” I point to the bag weighing down her arm.
“No, thanks. It’s a bunch of business paperwork.”
“Can I get you a glass of wine?”
