Page 97 of Broken

Holy shit. I know enough about pregnancy to know that sixteen weeks is pretty far along. No wonder she was so anxious on the drive here.

Dr. Walker hums, makes a few more notes, then gives us information on prenatal vitamins and care. I listen intently, swearing to myself that I will do everything in my power to make sure my wife and our baby are taken care in the best way possible.

We’re backin the car on the way home when I finally broach the subject of Mel’s previous pregnancies. “How old were you?”

Her eyes fill with tears, and I want nothing more than to wrap her in my arms and take the hurt away for her, but I’m painfully aware that I have no right to do that anymore. “Nineteen.”

Jesus fucking Christ. She was just a kid.

“You know that whole story about me leaving college because I had ‘issues’?” She uses air quotes for the last word. “And everyone assumed I had a coke addiction?”

“Yeah.”

“Not true. I got pregnant by my biology professor. My family couldn’t bear the shame of it, so they allowed everyone to think that I went off to rehab rather than have anyone find out I was grieving for the two babies I lost.”

“He got you pregnant twice?”

She nods. “The first miscarriage was early. Like six weeks, so they brushed it off as one of those things that just happen. But the second was at sixteen weeks and…” She takes a breath before she continues. “Well, that’s a whole lot different. And that’s why they want me to have regular scans with this one.” Her lip trembles, and I hate that she’s having to relive those painful memories. I don’t want to force her to talk about the pregnancies, so I focus on her college professor, who was a dick for knocking up his nineteen-year-old student.

“Did you love him? The father?”

“Yeah,” she says softly, and I’m filled with burning hatred for the guy, and not because he probably took advantage of her, but because she loved him.

“What happened with him?”

“After the first time, we agreed to try again—”

“Even though you were still in college?” I frown.

She shakes her head. “I know it sounds crazy now, but after my dad died, I felt like I had nobody. I was mixed up. I was just looking for…” She brushes a tear from her cheek.

She was just looking for someone to fucking love her.

“He was so sweet. So cool and mature, you know? I thought he was the most incredible person I’d ever met.”

Of course he seemed fucking mature when you were nineteen. I fucking hate him.

“He sold me a future that seemed so much better than the one my mom and brother had mapped out for me. So, when he suggested we try again, it made perfect sense to me. We agreed I’d stay in college to keep up appearances and then drop out as soon as the pregnancy became impossible to hide.”

“He sounds like a fucking asshole,” I spit, unable to hold back and half expecting her to defend him.

Instead, she lets out a harsh laugh. “Yeah, he sure was.”

“What happened between the two of you?”

Her beautiful face pinches in a frown as she stares over my shoulder. “After I lost the second baby, he blamed me. He said I partied too hard and hadn’t taken good enough care of myself. I went tooneparty and had a single sip of wine.” Another tear rolls down her cheek, and I go to wipe it away, but she roughly swats it away before I can. “We stayed together for a few weeks after that, but he kept getting worse with his bullshit about how it was all my fault. I couldn’t deal with the grief, so I left and…” She blows out a breath. “I went home and told my mom and Bryce, and they stirred up that stupid rumor about why I dropped out.”

“And the professor? He just got away with what he did to you?”

“It’s not like he broke the law or anything. Bryce and my mom wanted it all swept under the rug. I believe he was questioned by the dean about our alleged relationship, but he denied it all. He went on living his life like nothing had ever happened, and I was…” She wipes her hands on her jeans. “No point reliving the past right now, huh?”

“Where is he now?”

“According to Tyler, who stalks him on Facebook, he’s living in Ohio with his wife and two kids.”

“You want me to take care of him for you?” I ask, only half joking. All she has to do is say the word. “Because I know people.”

That gets me a soft laugh, and fuck me, but I love to see her smile. “I’m sorry I never told you, Nathan.” I fucking hate that she calls me Nathan, but I bite back that particular retort. “It’s just… It hurts to talk about that with anyone, but I should have told you. I guess my mom and Bryce thought it was easier to marry me off if I was a reformed coke addict than someone who couldn’t have kids.”

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