“I couldn’t take that chance.” He waved to my belly. “I needed you here.”
And I would have been here. Simply because he’d asked to be involved in our child’s life. But he hadn’t given me that chance. He hadn’t given me his trust or his faith.
My chin began to quiver as my eyes flooded with hot, angry tears. Goddamn hormones. They were stealing my edge. “I am so mad at you right now. You don’t get to decide the course of my life. You don’t get to keep secrets from me. You’ve had months to tell me the truth. Months.”
“We didn’t think it was worth upset—”
“We?”
Brody flinched, realizing he’d just fucked up.
“Clara. She knew.”
He closed his eyes and nodded.
“Get out.” I turned my back to him before he could see the first tear fall.
“Aria—”
“I said get out.”
He stood there, for minutes, waiting. But when I didn’t turn, he blew out a long breath and left.
It wasn’t until the door’s bell jingled that I breathed. Then I let myself cry the unshed tears, for just a moment, before pulling myself together and wiping my face dry.
Nothing good came from crying. I’d learned that after my parents had died. Clara and I had been ten when our parents had been stolen from us. The pain never did go away. It had dulled with time, but like the junkyard, it was unforgettable.
Rivers of tears hadn’t brought them back to life. Rivers of tears hadn’t kept my uncle away. Rivers of tears hadn’t saved me from living in a junkyard at fifteen.
Tears were pointless.
Tears wouldn’t make Brody change.
Dirt. “I need dirt.”
I needed work. So I stormed out of the office to find Marty alone in the shop, a look of worry etched on his face.
“Are you—”
“I’m fine.” I marched to one of the pots that we’d ordered a few weeks ago. I’d left it empty because it would need the right plant. Well, that snake plant was it.
There was no use taking it to Brody’s home. There was no use making myself comfortable there when I couldn’t possibly stay. Not now. I’d let myself get swept away with the idea of what if.
This baby didn’t need a mother with her head stuck in romance novels. It was time for a reality check.
I wouldn’t stay with a man who refused to listen to me. I wouldn’t live with a man who didn’t respect why I needed to control my own destiny.
After all I’d confided in him, all the pain I’d dredged up so he could understand. He still hadn’t told me the truth.
That hurt the worst. In all the nights he’d held me in his arms, he hadn’t found the courage to admit he’d lied.
The tears threatened to return but I blinked them away. Then I crouched, ready to haul the pot to the back room, when a sharp zing raced through my abdomen.
“Ow!” I cried, letting go of the pot as I clung to my belly.
“What?” Marty was at my side in a flash.
“I don’t know.” I gripped his arm, using him for balance. “It hurts. Just . . . give me a second.”
“What are you doing lifting that?”
“It’s not heavy.” It wasn’t heavy. Maybe ten pounds. I’d put it in this very spot just three days ago. “It’s not heavy.”
“Breathe.” He clutched my arm, just as another pang raced through my side. The pain was so sharp, it was like someone had hold of my stomach and was ripping it in two.
“Ah!” I gasped, dragging in some air. Please, let the baby be okay. Please. Please. Please.
“Aria, what do I do?”
I met his worried gaze. “Take me to the hospital.”
Chapter Fifteen
Brody
“Aria Saint-James.” I braced my hands on the counter as the nurse behind it looked over the rim of her clear-framed glasses.
“She’s my sister,” Clara blurted from beside me. “We’re family.”
The nurse opened her mouth, but before she could speak, Marty rushed to my side.
“Brody.” His face was pale. A sheen of sweat clung to his bald head. “She’s down here.”
Clara and I followed him, the three of us jogging down the hospital hallway, dodging carts pushed against the walls and a wheelchair outside of an open door.
When Marty reached Aria’s room, he stood aside and let us rush in first.
Aria was in the narrow bed, her hair draped over her shoulders. Her hands rubbed circles on her belly, and when she spotted Clara, the worry lines on her forehead relaxed. She spared me a brief glance.
She was pissed. She had a right to be. But I didn’t care.
I rushed to her side and took her hand.
She ripped it free.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“I’m okay.”
“The baby?”
“Fine.” She sighed and focused on her sister as Clara sat on the opposite side.
“What happened?”
“I was at the shop and I bent to pick up a pot.”
“You should have let Marty—”
She shot me a glare so pointed that it shut me up. “It wasn’t heavy. I lifted it three days ago.”
I would still be having a word with Marty about what Aria lifted at work.
“I got these sharp pains.” She ran a hand over her stomach, indicating the spot. “It freaked me out, so I had Marty bring me here. The doctor said it was round ligament pain.”
“Is it serious?” I asked.
Aria shook her head. “No, it’s normal. The round ligament just got stretched too far and too fast when I moved.”
“Good.” Clara sighed. “When Marty called . . . God, you had us worried.”
When Marty had called, I’d nearly come out of my skin. I’d never driven so fast in my life. Clara had barely hopped into the passenger seat before I’d sped away from the house.
I’d gone home after Aria had kicked me out of the shop. Work had been pointless, and what I should have done was stay there and watch over her.
“How long do you need to stay?” I asked.
“The doctor said I could go home soon. The nurse was here a few minutes ago. She said they’re getting my discharge papers ready.”
“Okay. Then what?”
“Rest.” She lifted a shoulder. “It will go away. If it doesn’t, then I need to come back.”
Clara leaned in and pulled Aria into a hug. “Are you okay?”
“I’m okay.” Aria closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around Clara. “It scared me.”
Scared was too mild a word. Terrified. Panicked. Those weren’t right either.
Never in my life had I felt such a deep, endless fear. If Aria had been hurt. If the baby . . .
They were my life. Both of them.
Aria was my heart.
“Can we have a minute?” I asked as Clara let Aria go.
“Sure.” She gave me a sad smile, then kissed her sister’s forehead. “I love you.”
“Love you too. Later we’re going to talk about you keeping secrets from me. You know, like how much the flower shop actually cost.”