Page 67 of First Surrender

I couldn’t believe it. I was sitting in the clinic with my world turning upside down and all I wanted was Jackson. I wanted him there with me like he has for every other difficult moment sinceI’ve met him. “They warned me that I could start bleeding at some point but I didn’t realize how soon.” I hiccup a sob.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” His term of endearment for me cracks my heart wide open but in the worst way. I don’t deserve it.

I’m such a disappointment.

“I always wanted to be a mom. Not like this, but I wanted to be the best mom, the one that I never had.” My tears flow silently down my face while I feel like I’m on the verge of dissociation. My brain can’t handle this, my heart definitely can’t.

“You would be,” he assures me even though I don’t deserve it.

“I’ve already messed it up. How am I supposed to get custody of Dec when I couldn’t take care of my own baby? I couldn’t even keep her alive.”

“Her?” He asks, breathlessly.

“I don’t know, I always thought I would have a baby girl one day. It’s how I imagined the baby in my mind,” I explain, pathetically.

“You will be a good mom someday. You’re the best mom to Dec already. You’re his sister but you are a damn good mom. You didn’t mess anything up.” He leaves no room for argument with the intensity of his words. I want to believe him, I really do, but I’m so defeated.

“I failed you,” I murmur the words I’ve been dreading.

He pushes me back, taking my face in his hands. I can only assume that my eyes are swollen and makeup is streaked down my face, but all I can focus on is his honey-brown eyes searing into my soul.

“This is not your fault. We will mourn this baby. Our baby.” He stands up, pulling me up with him. “But, we’re doing it together. We can go back to how things were tomorrow, but for tonight, let me take care of you. Okay? You can hate me againtomorrow.” He sweeps me up and off my feet, curling me to his chest.

I don’t have the energy to tell him I don’t hate him. I don’t want to go back to how things were but I’m too afraid to admit it. It was easy living with someone I thought I hated, but now I am terrified to be close to someone that I might actually care about.

He sets me on the counter in his bathroom. Dark gray floor, gray walls, silver faucets. It’s much bigger than the hall bathroom, with a double vanity, a big glass walk-in shower, and a white tub. It’s stark and clean.

While the tub fills up, he disappears momentarily before returning with my makeup remover wipes. I sit there like a statue while he wipes my cheeks and gently under my eyes. I close them to let him do my lids and feel a kiss on my forehead when he’s done. His lips vanish by the time I open my eyes.

This is just for tonight. He’s taking care of me tonight because we’re sad. That’s all.

His hands expertly twirl my hair into a twisty bun, something I imagine he’s had to do for his mom a time or two.

When the tub is ready, those same hands help me off the counter and delicately remove my shirt from behind, giving me a veil of privacy.

There’s a sudden intake of breath when my shirt crests over my head and I feel him freeze behind me. “Your dragon,” he whispers in astonishment as he unclasps my bra.

In the middle of my back, between my shoulder blades is a fine line tattoo of a black dragon. The ink weaves in and out expertly, giving the illusion of being wrapped around my spine.

I’m silent, letting him look. It’s the first time anyone has seen it since I got it done in New York. Aside from Dec who tried to expose my secret the day we moved in here.

I got it for me, I didn’t want anyone else to know about it, but I’m glad Jackson does. He’ll have a little part of me forever anyway.

He respects my silence and instead of asking me about it, he cups my hips in his big hands, right on the sides of my underwear. “I’m going to get these off but I’ll keep my head turned so you can get in the tub.”

We’ve had sex, it seems so silly to need privacy but my emotions have been rubbed raw enough for one day. I’ve had enough exposure for a lifetime, and somehow he knows that already.

The same way he knows to chuck my bloodied panties into the wastebasket as I climb into the tub. I never want to see that underwear again.

The water is hot and there are just enough bubbles that I could lay back if I wanted to, but I don’t. All I can do is hug my knees. Being tucked into myself makes me feel less alone.

Less empty.

Chapter Thirty-One

Jackson

She was pregnant. With my child…

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