Page 134 of Daddy By Design

“I know it sounds nuts, but the last time I was in here, she showed me a journal to take with me. This time, she kept flipping pages to talk to me.” Her eyes filled. “Her words were…”

Tears always took me out and no matter how many fights we’d had, there had never been tears. Now? I’d give anything to make them stop, but first, I wanted her out of here. I tried to draw her through the doorway, but she wouldn’t be dissuaded.

“She had such a sad life. So many miscarriages.”

I smoothed her hair back, trying to find a kernel of patience. “It happened a lot back then. They didn’t have doctors who knew what they were doing, like we do now.”

She sniffled and one fat tear trailed down her cheek. “No—I mean, yes, that was part of it, but not for her. I think something was wrong with her. She only managed to carry one baby, and it was stillborn.” She looked back over her shoulder. “Probably why there’s a single cradle in that window.” She turned back to me with her eyes brimming with more tears. “Every word was so sad. And she kept pushing her husband away because she was so lost in her grief.”

I thumbed away her tears. “You can tell me all about it, but I have to get you out of here.”

She nodded and covered my hand. “Yeah.”

I looked down at the book. “Are you sure you want to take that?”

“I need to read it. It’s her last journal.”

I sighed. “I don’t know if you should, if it’s making you this upset.”

“I think it’s just the room. I think I’m feeling what she was feeling in there, if that makes sense.”

It did not, but I just wanted her out of there. And I was going to seal off this damn room. I tucked her under my arm and led her back into the tunnel. I was about to close the doorway when she stopped me.

“Don’t close her in again.”

Everything in me froze, but I couldn’t deny her anything right there. “Okay.” Instead of going back to thestaircase exit, I turned us into the tunnel to the tower room.

I didn’t want to bring her around people just yet. She seemed shaky and out of sorts.

I slid my hand down to clasp hers and she held on tight.

When I got to the tower room doorway, I flicked open the latch and it swung forward.

She frowned. “What are we doing in here?”

“I just need a second with you.”

She nodded. “Okay.”

I’d brought up a couch to flop in there with the cat before the big construction started. A pile of blankets was crumpled in the corner of the leather love seat.

“For Gizmo?”

I shrugged. “We like to watch movies at night.”

“You’re a softie, Nolan Devereaux.”

I bared my teeth at her. “Lies.”

She gave a watery laugh as we sat down, but she didn’t let go of my hand or the book. In fact, she stacked my hand on top of the book in her lap and cupped my hand with both of hers. “Harriette was sad.”

“Yeah, you mentioned that.”

“Not the usual sad. Like the kind that overwhelms and locks everyone out.”

I knew a thing or two about that. Mine was more anger, but maybe there was a lot more sadness inside me than I wanted to own up to.

“Then she told me something.”

---