Page 47 of Love and Other Lost Things

The cold wind whistled against the window outside, but she was burning up inside that narrow space. “What do you want from me?” she asked shakily.

He reached up and slid a hand into the hair at the nape of her neck, tugging her even closer. “I want to know how you could walk away from this. I want to know how you could disappear into thin air.”

EIGHTEEN

TEN YEARS AGO

“Janie, look at this.”

Jane tore her eyes from the endless row of diapers to find Matteo standing in front of her holding a tiny pair of knit booties.

“Can you believe how small the baby’s feet will be?” He reached out to give her stomach a rub. “Especially with how huge you are.”

Jane stepped away from him, pressing a hand to the top of her bowling-ball belly. “I’m not huge. This is what pregnant women look like.” She focused on the shelf in front of her. Huggies and Pampers, what was the difference? This is when I wish I could call Mom.

“Don’t be so sensitive,” Matteo muttered, tossing the booties into the cart. “I’m just having a little fun.”

Jane sighed. She probably was being sensitive. Her back hurt, her ankles were swollen, and yeah, she felt huge. While Matteo looked as fit as ever in his tight black jeans and T-shirt. She’d caught two other women and a man checking him out in this store alone—while nobody was going to look at her twice except to feel sorry that she had to endure being nine months pregnant in a Los Angeles heatwave.

“I’m sorry,” she said, taking Matteo’s hand. “The booties are adorable.”

“Whatever,” he said, wandering off.

Jane watched him disappear around the corner and her lungs squeezed with anxiety. She should chase after him and smooth things over. He’d been a perfect partner throughout this pregnancy. All of her fears that they’d have another incident like the one the day she’d gotten the positive test had turned out to be completely unfounded. Sure, sometimes he got a little grumpy when she didn’t feel like having sex, and he expected her to clean and cook dinner every night, even though she could barely reach the stove around her midsection. But he’d been so excited, almost like a kid himself, buying baby toys and adorable little clothes, and making a list of names.

Jane tossed a package of newborn Pampers into the cart and followed it up with the same sized Huggies, and then she steered her cart after Matteo. She found him chatting up the pretty young woman at the checkout counter. She’s probably my age. But the checkout girl’s hair was glossy and her stomach flat.

“Hi,” Jane said, sidling up next to Matteo.

“Jane, hey,” Matteo said. “Vanessa was just telling me that most women only gain, like, 25 pounds during pregnancy.”

Vanessa gave Jane a smirk. It was like she knew that Jane had gained more than that.

Matteo laughed. “I’m just messing with you.” He wrapped an arm around Jane’s shoulder. “You know I think you’re gorgeous.”

Jane forced a smile as she unloaded her baby items onto the counter.

That night, Jane’s water broke. She woke up alone in their bed, the pain coming in waves. What’s happening? Where’s Matteo?

Jane sat up and looked at the clock. One in the morning. He’s at the club. Jane grabbed her phone, hitting the button to call him. It rang six times and went to voicemail. She hung up and immediately tried again.

Voicemail again.

Jane hauled herself out of bed, stopping to grab the night table and bend over to breathe through a contraction. I’m nine months pregnant. Why doesn’t he have his phone on him? She managed to get herself dressed and roll her suitcase out of the closet. Luckily, she’d packed it last week, just in case.

Panting heavily, she barely managed to wrestle the suitcase down the stairs, at one point nearly tipping forward and falling down half a flight. Inside the club, Jane fought her way through the crowd to the bar. She found Matteo pouring shots for a group of women in a bachelorette party, smiling, laughing, charming them with whatever story he was telling.

“Matteo,” she gasped, shoving her way to the bar as another contraction overtook her. “My water broke. I’m in labor.”

His eyes widened. “Oh, hell. Okay.” He dropped the tequila bottle on the counter and rounded the bar to wrap an arm around her back. “I’ve got you.”

Jane panted, leaning into his strong frame as he guided her out of the bar.

Matteo barked some orders to the bouncer and then they headed to his car down the street. Jane climbed in as another contraction hit. And suddenly, all she wanted was Mom. Her mommy, who’d spent hours on the bathroom floor, holding back Jane’s hair and rubbing her back when she had a stomach bug. Who’d made her favorite soup and sat with her watching the entire first season of the Gilmore Girls when Jane had the flu. Who’d come in the middle of the night when Jane had a nightmare. This pain, this terror, it was like the worst nightmare coming to life.

I can’t do this. I can’t have a baby.

I need my mother.

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