“Yes. When we found him…” She paused for a long while, and Samara allowed her the silence, giving her the chance to work out the words in her own time.
Olivia cleared her throat. “Before we married, Nic and I both agreed we didn’t want children. There were a lot of reasons, but the number one reason was because our childhoods had been horrific. Nic grew up with an abusive father, and my childhood… Well, it was unorthodox, to say the least. The last thing we wanted to do was bring a child into the world and be rotten parents.
“Nic was adamant about it. So much so that I’m not sure, even as much as he loved me, that he would have married me if he’d had the slightest inkling I would change my mind about wanting children.”
“But you did.”
“Yes. When we made the agreement, I really didn’t believe I would ever feel differently. My job was too demanding. I would never be able to be totally devoted to a child, the way a parent should be, and I never thought I’d want to be off work long enough to have a child. All the things you tell yourself when you’re young and you don’t realize that your priorities can change.
“And then, during the Fleming op, everything changed.”
Olivia closed her eyes as she remembered the event as if it were yesterday. It had been one of the most defining moments of her life.
The mission had been relatively simple. An emotionally disturbed woman had broken into a couple’s home and stolen their newborn right out of his crib. Even though local authorities and the FBI were immediately involved, leads had dried up. The couple had asked LCR to assist. Through an intricate web of contacts, they were able to locate the woman and the baby only a few miles from where he had been stolen.
Olivia had been in on the rescue. She was the one who’d picked up the baby. The moment she’d held that precious infant in her arms, an ache unlike anything she’d ever felt before had developed within her, almost choking her with emotion, with need. She had known in an instant what she wanted—it had been something she hadn’t even known she was missing. She wanted a child with Nic. A baby created from their love for each other. Someone with his features and hers blended into an individual she would love into infinity. In her mind’s eye, she could already envision the tiny little human who would stand for everything good and beautiful their love represented.
“When I returned home after the op, I went to see my doctor. It was time for my birth control shot. She told me I could go off my birth control, but Nic and I should use protection for about three months until the birth control was out of my system.
“Nic had just gone back to his deep-cover op when I left to work on the Fleming case, so I wasn’t expecting him back for months. I had it all planned. When he did come home, we would talk about it, and I would convince him to change his mind. I believed I could explain what I was feeling…why I was feeling it, and he would understand, and that would be that.”
She closed her eyes as tears threatened. She’d had it all worked out in her mind. Unfortunately, what she’d envisioned and what had occurred were the exact opposite.
“He came home much earlier than I anticipated. And we did what we always did when he came home.”
She couldn’t even work up a blush as she remembered how hot they’d been for each other. She’d been asleep in bed when he’d appeared beside her. She’d been so elated to see him, it had never occurred to her that they needed to use protection.
“He got called out only a few hours later when something broke on the case. I never once thought about birth control, and I never got the chance to tell him what I was feeling. We didn’t get to discuss anything.”
“You wouldn’t be the first person who’s forgotten about protection in the heat of the moment,” Samara said dryly.
“No, I guess not. I just never thought there would be such a devastating outcome.”
“You became pregnant.”
“Of course. Isn’t that the way tragedies always work? The thing you want most in the world occurs at the worst possible time? I couldn’t get word to Nic to let him know what was going on. No one could. He was purposely off the grid. When he finally came home, I was two months pregnant. He found me in the bathroom throwing up. Needless to say, when I told him why, he didn’t handle it well.”
Up until then, she didn’t think she’d known real pain. Not like that. It had been horrible. She had made excuses for his behavior simply because it had hurt so much. The things he’d said, the way he had looked at her. It was as if she hadn’t known him, as if a stranger who looked exactly like her kind, loving husband had come into the house and behaved in a way Nic would never have acted.
“He was, as I guess you can imagine, furious. I barely got the chance to explain what had happened. He ended up leaving. I honestly didn’t know if I’d ever see him again. A few days after that, I miscarried.”
She had been numb with shock, overwhelmed by an agonizing grief for the tiny, precious being she had never gotten to hold or kiss. She had never been able to tell him how very much she already loved him. Not that she had known the sex—it had been too early. But something inside her had told her the baby was a boy.
“Nic came back. I thought it was to talk. At least that’s what I’d hoped. He didn’t know about the miscarriage. I was hurting and angry. I told him he didn’t need to worry about the baby any longer.”
It had gotten so ugly. Both of them had been hurting, and they’d done their best to damage each other. Both had succeeded.
Even after all this time, it still hurt to think about that day. She had sworn she would get all of this out of her system. She had to say the words. If she didn’t, they would continue to fester and hurt. Even though she had forgiven him long ago, she had never said this out loud, and if nothing else, it needed to be said so she could purge it from her soul.
Her voice was so thick, she barely understood her garbled words. “He asked, ‘Did you get rid of it?’ He called our baby it. As if our child was nothing. As if he had no soul, no heartbeat. As if our son hadn’t been alive only days before. My child…our child. As if he hated him.”
A box of tissues appeared before her. Olivia gratefully took one and dried her eyes.
“When the people we love say awful things,” Samara said softly, “the hurt can be a million times worse. But I think you already know that he was speaking to you from a place of pain, don’t you? The things we say from pain are often the most untruthful, but also the most hurtful.”
“I know that now. I didn’t then. It just hurt so bad.”
“Have you forgiven him?”