Page 90 of Reclaiming Adelaide

“Comehere,Adelaide,”Jakesaid when I shut the door behind the doctor.

My feet stuck to the floor with sticky hesitation as renewed grief washed over me.

Hewas okay.

Iwas okay.

Ourbabywas okay.

But my parents weren’t, and our safety was far from guaranteed.

I should tell him.

No. I can’t.

He should know.

My mind warred with me, back and forth, right and wrong, until I walked into his arms, his palms cupping my face. “I’m going to fix this. I promise.”

He believed those words as easily as I could stare into his blue eyes, but it was a promise he could never fulfill. My parents were dead… because of me, and they’d never get to hear what should be jovial news.

I tilted my head to the ground and blew out a heavy, shaking breath, puffing out my cheeks. “Jake, I wish there was a reset button, and you could be the hero and press it, but that’s not possible. This is…” my voice choked in my throat, and my chin quivered, “my fault.” I took his hand and brought it down to my stomach, placing his palm flat against my belly. “There’s only one promise I’d ask you to make.”

He furrowed his brows, his head tilting to the side. “What are you saying?”

I sniffled as he sat on the edge of the bed, his hand shifting against my stomach. “Adelaide?” His low, rumbling voice sent shivers down my legs, with gooseflesh following like marching ants.

Shaking my head, I bit my lip, unable to bring forth the words and give him the answer he demanded.

My parents’ faces flashed before me. They weren’t the type to kick me out, and they’d welcome this baby and me with open arms. My parents loved me unconditionally, through thick or thin.

“How do you know?”

I swallowed, bracing myself for his unleashed anger at my supposed deception. “The nurse at the hospital told me.” When he didn’t move or make a sound, I continued. “I wanted you to—”

“How far along are you?”

“Um…” I mumbled. “Eight weeks, give or take a few days.”

“Eight…” he said, exhaling his words. Jake shook his head, the disbelief on his face as clear as the Pacific waters.

I froze, my heart aching as he tipped his head and pressed his cheek to my belly, wrapping his arms tight around my waist. I reached for the ends of his darkened hair with my fingertips, hesitant to touch him and ruin this foolish paradise, but I remained steadfast. He either let me touch him when I really needed it or not at all.

Heat rose from his scalp as I threaded his strands through my fingers and held him against me. Hot tears rolled down my cheeks as I bit my lip, forcing back the sobs that beat against my breastbone.

What was he thinking? What wicked thoughts ran through Jake Murray’s head right now?

He pulled back but wound his hands around my hips, his thumbs brushing the exposed skin from my bunched-up shirt. “Why are you telling me this now?”

I squeezed my eyes closed as my chin trembled. “Because,” I wiped the tears from my cheeks, “we could have died down there, and you would’ve never known.” My face tightened, and my breaths rattled my chest with an uneven canter. “I already hate myself for my...” I broke down and covered my face with my hands, hiding from him—from the world that despised me so much.

Jake took me in his arms, standing from the bed, and held me tight as I wept into his chest. “I’m here, sweets.” His hold tightened.

“Jake,” I shook my head, “stay with me. Just for tonight? I don’t want to be alone.”

If I let him walk out that door, it could very well be our last conversation—the last time I saw him without him divulging his thoughts on my revelation.

“You don’t want me to stay, Adelaide.” He smoothed my hair over my head and gripped the back of my neck.

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