Page 67 of The Final Beat

Looking at me quizzically, Amber rubbed a hand over her stomach. “In what way?”

“He’s not even thirty, Amber. One day he’ll want a family, although he denies it, and I can’t give him that.”

“Plenty of women have children in their forties.”

My chest ached and I felt the tears again, but I swallowed them back. I’d made peace with the fact that I couldn’t have kids. For years I’d believed I was okay with it, but then bloody Joey Farrow gave me some amazing orgasms and trusted me with his grief, and everything changed.

“I had a hysterectomy, Amber.” I licked my lips, battling with the desire to tell her to fuck off out of my room and stop prying. That wouldn’t solve anything, though, and I needed to be able to talk about it. I needed to slowly free myself of the pain that had built up inside of me. Taking a deep breath, I continued. “I was pregnant but lost the baby because he kicked me in the stomach.”

Amber gasped and slapped a hand to her mouth. “No,” she whispered. “Destiny, that’s awful.” She grabbed my hand. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t cry on me, Amber. I can’t…” The despair was pushing against my breast bone and it took everything I had to force it away.

She sniffed. “Okay, I won’t, but how the hell did he get away with it? All those years you were with him, and he did those awful things, how?”

“Because he didn’t seem the type. Always attentive and loving, laughing, and joking, so people believed me when I said I fell down the stairs or banged into a door.”

“But making you lose a baby!” She shook her head. “How did he excuse that? How did he manage to hide it?”

“I wasn’t too far along, and he forbade me from telling anyone that I was pregnant. Then after,” I paused to swallowback the pain, “after, he wouldn’t let me go to hospital because of the bruising and the footprints on my stomach. Got some ex shag of his who was a nurse to examine me.” Amber flinched but I carried on. “She didn’t do a very good job because I ended up getting an infection. It was so bad that I had to have everything taken away.”

“Oh my god, Destiny, I’m so sorry.” Tears brimmed as she hugged the babies still growing inside her. “There was nothing they could do?”

“I was in constant pain, and it had damaged my fallopian tubes. They said that maybe I could keep them and have children with fertility treatment, but he persuaded me that it would be pointless. He said we didn’t need kids.”

I’d never admitted the last part to anyone before. I’d never had the guts to admit I’d been weak and easily manipulated. I still hadn’t wanted people to think badly of him and that made me the most stupid woman in the world, and I wouldn’t let any man make me feel like that again. Especially not Joey.

Amber’s cheeks were now wet with tears, slowly making tracks through the thin layer of make-up she was wearing, and I wondered whether I should have kept my counsel. She was pregnant, she didn’t need to hear my sob story. She had a tender heart and I had made her feel bad.

“I’m sorry, Amber. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Destiny, no. Don’t ever be sorry. You have nothing to be sorry about. That man is the only person who should feel sorry for anything and he’s a prick. He’s dead, isn’t he?”

I nodded and smiled, amused at the steel in her voice. I almost felt sorry for Ronnie if he ever upset her.

“Thank god he is,” I replied with a smirk. “I think you might be on the warpath for him if he wasn’t.”

“I’d cut his damn balls off,” she announced, swiping at her cheeks. “Death was too good for him. He needed to suffer.”

“He did, love, don’t worry.”

We fell silent for a few moments until Amber let out a loud yawn.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry.”

“I thought you pregnant women liked to be in bed by nine.”

“I do normally but the hunger pangs I keep getting are terrible. I was in the bar getting something to eat when you all got back.”

“Do you want me to order some room service for you?” I asked.

“No, it’s fine.” She pulled her phone from her pocket and looked at it. “It’s late. I should go. Ronnie will be worrying about both of us.” She pushed up from the bed, with one arm resting over her belly. “Try and get some sleep if you can,” she said, smiling down at me. “Things might feel different tomorrow.”

“With me and Joey?”

“He’s bound to come and see you, so just hear him out. And remember, he’s not that horrible man who hurt you in the past.”

“Vinny Clemente,” I said his name out loud, tasting the bitterness on my tongue. “I rarely say it, but it was Vinny Clemente.”

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