“Tell me.” I need to know, even if I’m afraid of what she’s going to say.
Instead of words, she grips my arm. “I got my period while you were gone.”
“Shit.”
“I went to the doctor—”
“By yourself?”
Her face screws into a scowl. “They told me miscarriages are common this early.” The bitterness in her voice fades. She sniffles. “They acted like I was ridiculous for even coming in and sent me home.”
“Fuck. Are you serious?”
She groans and curls up even tighter.
“Are you in pain?”
She hums a noise that I interpret as a yes.
“Should we go to the hospital? Or another doctor?” I need to do something. Wrap my hands around the neck of the doctor who so callously sent her home and squeeze really hard. How could I be off wallowing like a pussy when my girl was going through this alone?
“Did you tell anyone? Call someone to go with you?”
“No,” she groans. “Hope’s close to her due date. And I didn’t think I could see Heidi right now.”
“Charlotte.” I sigh and stand. “You should’ve called me. I would’ve come back right away.”
“Don’t go,” she pleads.
“I ain’t going anywhere, Sunshine.” I strip off my clothes and tug on the blankets. “Scoot over.”
She slides a few inches away. Enough for me to ease my big frame onto the mattress and pull the covers over us. Her skin’s hot against my fingers. “Are you all right?”
“No. I’m not okay at all.”
“I mean…” Fuck, why am I asking her stupid questions? I skim the back of my hand over her cheek and against her forehead. She’s warm but not feverish. At least, I don’t think so. “Are you sure we shouldn’t go to the hospital?”
“I’m sure.” A little softer she adds, “Just hold me.”
Those three simple words burrow deep and threaten to shatter my heart. I slide one arm under her body and pull her close, curling myself around her in an attempt to protect her from the world. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here, Sunshine.”
“It’s okay.” She sighs and turns to face me. “Probably better that you weren’t. You might’ve punched the doctor for being mean to me.”
I lean in and kiss her forehead. “Can’t promise I’m not going to hunt her down later.”
“How’d it go?”
“What? My ride?”
“You stopped to see Rock, didn’t you?”
That’s the last thing I want to talk about now. “I’ll tell you about it later.”
“No. Please. I need…to hear your voice. Tell me about your trip. Take my mind off of…things.”
My throat’s so tight, I can barely speak. “First, do you need anything? Advil? Water? Food?”
“No, just you.”
I kiss the top of her head and run my hands over her back. “Like I said on the phone, I went to Niagara Falls.”
“Canadian side or American?”
“Canada.”
“Really? What made you cross the border?”
I hesitate, not sure if I can put it into words that’ll have any meaning. But that’s why Charlotte and I work so well—she always helps me make sense of the most absurd situations. “I couldn’t stop thinking about this trip I took with my parents…uh, my mother and her husband, when I was a kid. Before Heidi.”
“BH, huh?”
“Yeah.” I chuckle.
“I bet you were so cute when you were little… I was hoping… I wanted…” Her voice breaks.
“Shhh. It’s okay.” I lean closer and rub my forehead against hers. “I was a scrawny daredevil who scared the shit out of my parents because I kept asking about going over the falls in a barrel.”
The silly memory does the trick. A quick chuckle spills from Charlotte, her warm breath sliding over my neck. “Go on,” she encourages.
“We visited my mom’s cousin or aunt. I vaguely remember sitting in her kitchen drinking loganberry juice.”
“Ooo, I remember that stuff. It was so good. My dad used to bring us home loganberry syrup whenever he went up there on a run.”
“You’re in luck. I brought you home a bottle.”
She squeezes me again. “You’re the best fiancé.”
Pleasure that I did at least one thing right fills me for a second, then evaporates. “No, I’m not. I should’ve been here, Char—”
“Knock it off and finish your story.”
This woman. God damn, I love her.
“Everything’s changed so much, I barely recognized anything. Couldn’t find the house. Who knows if I was even looking in the right place?”
“What were you going to do if you found it?”
I huff out a quiet laugh. “I didn’t think that far ahead.”
“Marcel,” she whispers, running her fingers through my hair. Her touch soothes and reassures me, even though she’s the one who needs comforting.
“I spent some time staring at the falls and thinking over my life. Unfortunately, no good answers came to me.”
“It’s going to take a while to get comfortable. Your whole identity has been shaken.”
“I still love you no matter what,” I say. She needs to understand that nothing about this revelation changes how I feel about her or our future together.
“And I love you,” she repeats.
That’s what I needed to hear. “Will you love me more or less as a North?”
She pulls back and blinks at me. “Are you thinking of taking Rock’s last name?”
“Yeah,” I admit quietly, shifting my gaze to the nightstand. “I floated the idea when I saw him at Chaser’s place.”
“And?”
“He seemed receptive.”
“I’m sure he was. He cares about you a lot, Marcel. This is eating him up too.”
Something in her voice sets me on edge. “What makes you say that?”
“He…uh, came to talk to me at my office. He was worried about you.”
“He came to your office?” I repeat slowly, not liking the sound of that at all. Her experience growing up around an MC wasn’t always warm and fuzzy. Given the current situation, my MC prez showing up out of the blue probably scared the shit out of Charlotte. “What’d he do, waltz in your front door?”
“Yes. Scared the hell out of me at first,” she admits. “I wasn’t sure how he felt. If he wanted to keep it quiet or he was worried about the club finding out.”
“And?”
She pauses and seems to consider her words. “I think he feels…guilty.”
“Why? It’s not his fault.”
“I think he’s worried about…losing you.”
That’s new. Hell, my parents were all too eager to get rid of me. “No one’s ever been afraid of losing me before.”
“I worry about losing you.” She struggles to sit up.
“Easy.” I pull her into the safety of my arms again. “I’m sorry I took off.”