Page 27 of Broken Love

“Sweetheart.” Tucker appears in front of my face, scooting close on the chair, and I register the anguish in his eyes. He’s hurting, too. They both are. “Much as I hate it, we can’t control everything. Nobody could have known that you were going to be poisoned.” He wipes the tears from my cheeks and rests his chin on the pillow a few inches in front of my face, his concerned eyes searching my own.

“I didn’t know,” I whisper. “I should have.” They both make disagreeing sounds of protest. “It’s my body; I should have known.” Closing my eyes, I allow the grief and guilt to consume me until I’m too exhausted to stay awake any longer.

CHAPTER 12

Tanner

It’s pure agony watching Windsor suffer so much that she can hardly get out of bed. Sure, she’s still weak from the poisoning, but I don’t believe that’s what’s keeping her there. She’s lost in her mind over the fact we created a life together, and someone took it away so violently.

Tucker and I hurt as well, knowing we couldn’t protect the two of them, but we have to push it back so we can take care of her. Right now, Tuck is at the office doing the work for all three of us, and tomorrow, I’ll go in so he can stay home with her.

Dad, Arden, and her husbands have been by to check on her. Kathleen has called every day since we got home. Lux came by to drop off what she called a pamper package. It contained some candy, packets of hot chocolate, fuzzy socks, a heating pad, and a book about child loss. She couldn’t stay because she was pulling double shifts all week, but she wanted her sister to know she was thinking of her.

Windsor has hardly spoken since we brought her back to our penthouse. She only eats when we force her to. When she gets in the shower, she cries until exhaustion takes her away. And my brother and I are feeling spectacularly helpless as to how to help her.

I ache to my soul about losing our child. I’ve read books and articles about how such a profound loss can affect a person, how the grieving process can take months or even years. Especially for women. After the rollercoaster year that Windsor has had, I have no doubt she’s feeling more vulnerable than ever.

Mixing one of the hot chocolate packets into the water I just boiled, I place it on the tray with the breakfast I made her—scrambled eggs, toast with strawberry jam, and bubblegum grapes. I know she won’t eat it all, but I hope to coax more into her than the little she ate yesterday.

As I enter our room—we hadn’t wanted her sleeping alone, worried she’d feel more isolated than she currently does—I’m surprised to find her awake and sitting on the balcony in one of the lounge chairs we keep out there. A blanket is wrapped around the bottom of her legs, and the space heater cranks on this chilly morning.

“Good morning,” I say so I don’t startle her.

She turns to look at me for the first time since we came home a few days ago. Her eyes are clear, and the circles underneath them aren’t as heavy. “Hi.” She offers me a cute little wave, looking shy as ever.

“Did you sleep better?” Sitting on the end of the lounger, I place the tray carefully in her lap.

Her stomach grumbles loudly before she can answer, and hearing her laugh lights my heart up. “I did, and this looks wonderful, Tanner. Thank you.”

I watch her eat for a few minutes before shooting off a text to Tucker to let him know she’s looking better and has an appetite. It doesn’t take her long to finish everything I’ve made before drinking down the hot chocolate in one gulp.

“I’m sorry for being such a mess this week.” Her hushed voice is still filled with sorrow, and I can feel it from the roots of my hair to the tips of my toes.

Cupping her cheek in my palm, I rub my thumb along her soft skin. “You have nothing to be sorry for, baby. We suffered a loss that none of us even knew about. You are allowed to grieve for our child.”

Fuck me. Saying it out loud has my heart cramping.

“But you guys suffered the same loss, and you didn’t fall apart. I was so selfish. I didn’t think about either one of you.” Tears spring up again, and I nearly spin into a panic. I hate seeing Windsor cry.

Moving the tray to the table behind me, I settle in beside her and pull her into my chest. “We grieved as well, but our focus was you because we know you felt it ten times more than we did.” She nods her head and holds me just as tightly.

“Ar-are you okay?” Her eyes lift to meet mine, and there’s genuine concern swirling in the puddle of tears that still remain.

“I’m sad. I didn’t know it was something we wanted until it was taken away.” Her head bobs in understanding. Brushing the hair back from her face, I kiss her forehead. “I have to believe everything happens for a reason. We’re not going to understand this one anytime soon, but I think the three of us have the chance to grow closer, to bond in our shared grief.”

“You think so?” The hope in her voice makes me smile.

“Yeah, baby, I really do. Now, how about we get showered and dressed and take lunch to Tucker? He’s miserable without you today.” Her enthusiastic nod is all I need to pick her up and carry her into the shower.

Tucker

“You can’t keep going like this, Tuck. You have to forgive yourself.” The sympathy in Arden’s voice only fuels my anger.

“I can’t.” She’s long since learned to ignore my bark.

“She will pick up on it when she comes out of her own grief, and she’s going to be convinced it’s directed towards her.” This is the third time my sister has said as such in this one phone call. “You’re alone with Windsor tomorrow, are you not?” I grunt my reply. “She’ll know you’re angry. It’ll fester between the two of you, and Tuck, I love you, but I know you; you’ll wind up saying something you’ll regret.”

Scrubbing my hands up and down my face, I spin my chair to stare out at the city I’ve loved living in my entire life, wishing for the first time that I was anywhere else but here.

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