Because I’m pregnant.
“Good.” He cups my face, his thumb brushing over my cheekbone. “Because I can’t lose you.”
“You won’t.” My stomach clenches, and more tears brim over. “Cole, I have some news for you.”
His eyebrows lift. “News?”
I chew my bottom lip and nod. “I just found out.”
“Fuck.” His spine stiffens. “Did the doctor find something wrong? Is that why they wouldn’t let us back here sooner?”
“Nothing’s wrong, but the doctor did find something.”
His eyebrows pinch together as he gazes at me with resolute intensity. “Whatever it is, we’ll get through it together.”
A breath of relief rushes out of me. “I was hoping you’d say that.” My heart feels like it’s beating in my throat, and I swallow around the emotion. “Cole, I’m pregnant.”
He blinks, looking stunned.
“The blood test came back positive,” I continue. “I had no idea. Dr. Goodwin just told me.”
Cole’s hands slip out of mine as he leans back. “What are you talking about? We used a condom every time.”
“The doctor said it must’ve broken. That’s the only way it could’ve happened. But Cole, it happened. Me and you, we made a baby. And I know it’s foolish to get excited for something that might not come to fruition, given my track record, but I can’t help it. I’m excited.” Tears careen down my face in salty rivers. “I might actually become a mother, and you are the reason it’s happening.”
He shoots to his feet, knocking over his chair. His eyes are wild, and he runs his fingers through his hair as he paces. “You can’t be pregnant. We can’t be having a baby. This isn’t happening.”
My head spins, whirling with confusion and fear. I reach out for him, but the IV in my hand catches and pulls. “Ouch! Cole, come here. Please, sit. Let’s talk about this.”
He vehemently shakes his head, licking his lips. “You’re not hearing me. We can’t have this baby!”
His words pierce me like bullets. “I don’t understand.”
“How could you not understand? You know what happened, what I went through. I can’t do this again.” He jabs his finger toward the floor. “I won’t.”
“And you know what I went through, so you shouldn’t be asking me to not have this baby!”
He huffs out a manic laugh. “It’s not the same. You don’t understand.”
Anger flares in my gut. “How can I understand when you refuse to tell me? You never let me in, Cole. Not all the way. You keep me at arm’s length, and I don’t know how to help you.”
“You can’t help me. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you all along.” He scrubs both of his hands over his face. “I knew this was a mistake. I never should’ve gotten involved with you.”
And my heart, my full heart—the heart he filled up with so much love and hope and joy—plummets to the floor.
“Don’t do this, Cole. Don’t push me away. We can figure this out.”
He shakes his head, his mind made up. He turns and walks back the way he came.
My chin quivers as I speak. “Please don’t go.”
But he’s already gone.
Thirty-Three
Cole
My phone buzzes for the millionth time today.
Josie’s name flashes across the screen. Gotta hand it to her, she’s persistent. I haven’t listened to any of her messages, but I’d bet they’re ugly.
I deserve as much.
I hold my thumb over the power button, and the screen goes black.
A baby.
A baby.
A baby.
I still can’t wrap my head around it.
Agony throbs in my temples, my stomach rolling with each new wave of nausea.
Why should I get another chance?
Why does a new baby get to live when Mia didn’t?
Why, why, why?
The cab rolls to a stop, and the driver looks over his shoulder. “Where do you want me to drop you?”
“Here is fine.” I slip his money through the partition and swing open the door.
The cold air slices through me when I step outside. Didn’t think to bring a jacket with me when I left. Didn’t think at all. Just followed the irrational need to get away and bought a ticket for the first flight out of California.
Ended up here.
The dead grass crunches under my shoes as I travel across the cemetery. Haven’t been here since the day I watched them lower Mia’s tiny casket into the earth.
I couldn’t understand it then, and I still can’t make sense of it now.
When I reach her headstone, my knees buckle, and I drop down. My fingers claw at the ground, wishing I could crawl inside and be there with her.
Instead of her.
Moans of misery wrench from my chest, my eyes soaked with sorrow. “I’m so sorry, Mia,” I whisper. “Daddy’s so sorry he wasn’t there for you.”
I succumb to the grief, no longer able to contain it, surrendering everything that’s left inside me. And I weep. I weep for my angel baby.
“Please forgive me. Please. I never meant for this to happen. Never wanted to lose you. I loved you so much, Mia. Daddy loved you so much.”
Sudden Infant Death Syndrome, the doctors told us.
The unexplained death of a baby in her sleep.
Cause unknown, they said.
Couldn’t have been prevented, they said.
“But I should’ve gotten up. It was my night to get up and feed you. None of this would’ve happened if I wasn’t so damn selfish.”
“Is that really what you believe?”
I spin around to face the voice behind me.
Her curtain of dark hair whips across her face, billowing in the wind. Dark eyes that once gazed up at me in adoration are now filled with pity.
My once-lucky Penny, now tarnished and dull.
“Do you truly believe that you’re at fault for Mia’s death?” she asks again.
I throw my hands up and then let them fall. “If I would’ve gotten up when I was supposed to, maybe—”
“Maybe she would’ve died after you fed her. Or maybe you would’ve gotten to her too late. You can’t know what would’ve happened, Cole. You can’t live the rest of your life stuck in that kind of torture.”
I scoff. “I should be like you then? Move on and forget about it as if it never happened?”
She flinches. “I haven’t forgotten about it. About her. I never will.” She rubs her palm up and down her stomach. “But I have other things to think about too.”
My jaw goes slack when I spot the roundness of her belly, the small swell under the buttons of her peacoat.
“How ... how could you ...” My words trail off, too many questions fighting for attention.
“How could I not?” she asks. “I don’t want to let that solitary, tragic event rule the rest of my life. I have to believe in more. I have to believe there can be good again. Otherwise, I might as well be in that grave with her.”
I shake my head, refusing to see any logic in her conviction.