Page 100 of Undeniable

“I remember, but—”

“I wasn’t on the pill long enough,” I clarified. “At that time, the recommended time to wait until intercourse was two weeks or something like that, but no one explained that to me. I figured a few days was long enough to get it in my system.”

I saw him nod out of the corner of my eye.

“I didn’t take a test. I wanted to… I wanted to wait until you showed up for my birthday to take it. I didn’t want to be alone, and you were the only person I wanted there with me. But when everyone told me about what you’d said, and then I realized you weren’t coming—”

My voice broke, but I suppressed all the emotions threatening to claw their way to the surface.

“After we talked, and when I knew you weren’t coming, I decided I didn’t want to know. At least not right then. I went to bed and told myself I’d take the test the next day. But you showed up, and… I never took the test. I never got the chance to.”

The steadying breath I tried to take stuck in my throat, and I hoped I’d make it through the next part without descending into sobs. So, I spoke quickly and without pause.

“You left, and I locked myself in my room the rest of the day. I woke up in the middle of the night. I was cramping, but it felt different, more pinpointed than period cramps. Then I felt something wet between my legs. I turned on the light and saw the blood on my inner thighs. I remember sitting there frozen for so long, holding my stomach and praying I’d wake up. And when I finally realized the pain was getting worse and it wasn’t just a nightmare, I did the only thing I knew to do. I stumbled into the living room to find both of our moms sitting on the couch. They were laughing so loudly they didn’t hear me come in and didn’t even look up until I told them that I thought I was having a miscarriage.”

I shuddered around a sigh and wrapped my arms around my midsection. Like I could keep myself from falling apart if I held on tighter.

“They took me to the hospital where the doctor confirmed it. It was early… still in the first trimester. They gave me meds to help with the pain, and then they sent me home. I came here only a few hours after I got home because it made me feel closer to both of you.”

“I’m so—”

“Don’t say you’re sorry,” I ground out, barely holding it together. “I—it was my fault. I lay there in bed so furious with you that I wished it all away. The last thing I wanted was to be carrying your child after everything I thought you’d done. So, I wished I wasn’t, and then I miscarried, and it’s all my fault. I killed—”

I couldn’t think the words, let alone say them. I’d never spoken those dark thoughts out loud, and I still couldn’t do it before my voice broke off and the sobs I’d been holding back finally broke free. They racked through my body with such force that I knew I’d collapse.

But then James was there.

His strong arms wrapped around me and hauled me into his chest. I buried my face into his shirt and let myself cry for the time I’d never get back with either of them. The grief and guilt was nearly debilitating.

“You didn’t,” he began, but I heard his voice catch even over the sounds of my sobs. “You didnotkill our baby.”

Our baby.

The pain and conviction in his voice were honest. I never wanted him to hurt too. And the knowledge that he was now stirred awake feelings I hadn’t experienced in years. There was too much pain to comprehend. I never realized I was capable of loving and missing someone I never met. But I loved and missed our baby with every single broken part of me. And I would’ve given anything for the chance to meet them. To hold them and love them.

I felt guilty every day for those fleeting thoughts when I wished my circumstances were different. I didn’t mean them. I knew I didn’t. And I hoped our baby knew that, too.

I tried to take a deep breath, but it caught in my throat. I still inhaled enough to catch James’s summertime scent, and I let myself get lost in him. I lost myself in his scent, the measured beat of his heart, the strength of his arms, and the steadiness in which he held us both up.

Eventually my sobs reduced to the occasional sniffle, and I cringed when I leaned back and saw how wet James’s navy-blue shirt was.

“It’ll dry,” he muttered and brushed a stray tear from my cheek. He hooked a finger under my chin, and I couldn’t do anything but look up at him. The sadness I felt was reflected back to me in his features.

His eyes and lashes were wet from his own tears.

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t there, but Ivy, none of that was your fault.”

“I know that now, but nineteen-year-old me didn’t know what to think.”

“I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry,” he muttered.

Such a simple apology. But it was all I’d ever wanted, yet I hadn’t known I needed it until I heard the words.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

He nodded solemnly, and I leaned into his touch.

“I’m not going to lie to you and say that it doesn’t hurt to know you’ve kept this secret from me for so long. But—”

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