“Can I ask you something?”
His asking permission to ask me a question made me wary. “Yeah…”
“You said you’re alone. Does Jonas’s family ever come around?”
My heart fell a little bit. “They visited a few months ago, but no, they don’t visit much. They own a ranch in Vermont, so they can’t be away from it for any significant amount of time.”
“I’m surprised his mom doesn’t want to keep an eye on you and the baby.”
I turned away from him to go sit on the couch with a heaving sigh. “Umm…”
He joined me in the living room. “What?”
I looked up at him and lifted my hands out to my sides in a defeated gesture. “His mom doesn’t know.”
His brow furrowed. “Know what?”
I looked at my hands. “The baby. I didn’t tell them I was pregnant.”
I expected him to be aghast or disappointed in me, but when I looked up, his face was just curious. “Why not?”
I swallowed, overwhelmed by his non-judging. My lips twisted to the side and I sniffed. “Cause she’s my miracle. The part of Jonas that he left with me. And I don’t want to share her.”
He nodded, looking sad for me. “I get that.”
“You do?”
“Yeah.”
I blinked tears away, relieved at the simple acceptance. “Thanks.” I knew that he might not agree with me. He could have tried to convince me to share the joy and not cling to grief. But he just let me be.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
And this is grace
This is forgiving
This is living for the future
This is living here and now
When awards are gone
The lights are out
There’s no adoring throng
I’ll cradle you in my palms
Protect you from the wind
That tears at your heart
The hurt that’s tearing you apart
—Sean Amity
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
When Sean knocked on the door, I rolled my eyes. “You have a key for a reason, Sean!” I yelled loud enough that he could hear me. I was bracing myself against the kitchen counter, trying to get my hip to support me like a good little hip should.
The lock turned and Sean walked in, honing in on my pathetic stance. “What’s wrong?” He rushed over. “You’re not in preterm labor, are you?”
“No, my back and hips just don’t seem to be getting along.” I reached for him and he supported me as I hobbled over to the couch.
“Why aren’t they getting along?”
“Because I’m twenty-four weeks pregnant, and I have a baby in there who’s trying to make enough room to come out in a few months, which basically means my entire skeleton is being torn apart!” Pain and pregnancy hormones made me dramatic.
He looked at me with concern, both for my physical and my mental health. “Is there anything I can do?”
I waved him off and slowly sank down onto the couch. “I’ll be fine. I have an appointment in a little while.” I’d called as soon as I woke up and realized I could hardly move.
“Obstetrician?”
“No. Acupuncturist.”
The look of shock on his face would have made me laugh if I were in a laughing mood.
“Acupuncture? As in needles?” Sean was very familiar with my feelings about needles.
“Yes.”
“Are you messing with me?”
“Nope.”
“You hate needles.”
I shrugged. “I still hate most needles, but this is different.”
He continued to look at me as if I’d grown a third head before shaking himself out of his confused stupor. “I’m trying to figure out what strange confluence of events would have led you to even give it a chance.”
The soft smile that curved my mouth surprised me. “Jonas was an acupuncturist.”
He blinked at the mention of my dead husband. “Oh…I thought he was in the army.”
“He was. He got out before we met.”
“I didn’t know that,” he said with a note of disappointment.
“I didn’t expect you to.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t know that, Libby.”
His guilt about this specific thing baffled me. “How would you have known? I’m the one who cut off contact.”
“I know,” he said. “I just wish things could have been different. I wish I hadn’t been an idiot and driven you away.”
My guilt cycle came around yet again, reminding me of my own part in his downfall. “It’s not all your fault.”
He gave me an amused look of disbelief. “It really was.” He said it easily, like he had accepted long ago that he held the entirety of the blame.
“No, it wasn’t.” I blinked up at the ceiling as tears snuck up behind my eyes. “You’ll never know how sorry I am for getting you to sign that contract.”
A look of genuine concern filled his face. “What do you mean, getting me to sign it?”
“Come on, Sean.” I adjusted on the couch, wincing with the movement. “We both know I’m the one who pushed you into this career. You didn’t want it or need it. But I wanted it for you, and I convinced myself that you needed it. And somehow”—I let out a painful, exasperated guffaw—“none of the adults ever sat us down to make us really think through it. I’m…I’m so proud of what you’ve done. You are beyond amazing. You are more talented than anyone has a right to be.” I pressed my lips together as I prepared for this one truth to be spoken. “But I think I ruined you when I pushed you into this. And I’ll never be able to make that up to you.”
“Libby,” he said with so much love and concern in his voice that I had to look up at his face. “What are you talking about?” He looked honestly confused, which befuddled me. “You didn’t push me into this. I didn’t follow you blindly into fame. I wanted it just as much as you did. I pushed myself because I loved it. My songs were better because you loved it too. You know music runs through my veins, and I was so happy to have you there with me.”
“But—”
“No. You say no adults ever sat us down, and I guess that’s true for you, but I had plenty of warnings going into this. My mom was excited when I first got the call, but then she got really worried really fast. She made me think about it for weeks longer than I wanted to before she’d let me sign the contract.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Maybe she should have made me wait longer…” He stared at his hands. “I know now how young I was, how ill-prepared. It’s amazing how clearly you can see once you’re on the other side of something. But back then…” He slowly shook his head back and forth. “I was riding high. I was invincible and nothing was going to get me down. And I really did love it. When it was good, it was so good. But when it was bad…” He trailed off, his eyes glazing over.
I wanted to ask him what rehab was like, but I didn’t have the time. I had to leave if I was going to make it to Dr. Mory’s office on time. I sniffed. “Thanks for telling me that.” I reached for his hands. “I need to go.”