Page 102 of Your Soul to Keep

Finding nothing but truth in his eyes, I told him my story.

“We tried for over a year before the doctor referred us to a specialist.” I stared, unseeing, into the past as his strong fingers massaged the back of my scalp. “We did everything we could. Ovulation kits, special lubricant, abstaining, but it didn’t work. Then Gary put off the wedding date saying it would put undue stress on me.”

My eyes skittered to Gabe’s. He nodded for me to continue, uncharacteristically silent.

“Thank God I didn’t have a marriage to dismantle on top of everything else.” I forced a small smile. “That year was easy compared to what came next. Bloodwork, pelvic ultrasounds, dye and saline injections that caused cramping the likes of which I’ll never forget.”

His arm around me tightened as he pressed a hard kiss to my temple.

I stared into the past. “Then things got serious. Meds and blood work, mood swings and weight gain, swelling and so much disappointment.

“I felt like half a woman, like I hadn’t lived up to my part of the bargain. I used to accuse him of wanting to leave me.” I barked out a bitter laugh. “And then when he actually did leave, I was shocked.”

I paused and gathered my courage.

“By then, the only time we had sex was when the doctors said. There was no pleasure, no intimacy.” I met his eyes. “In the end, I was just a womb to him, a barren one at that.”

I didn’t miss him, but the wound he left still bled. I shrugged off the hurt. “He didn’t touch me otherwise. When the doctor hosted an IVF information night, I wanted to stop, but Gary begged me to try.”

I swallowed audibly. “I didn’t want him to leave me, so I did.” I winced at the memory. “And some of those procedures really hurt.”

Gabe raked his fingers through my hair. “It never took?”

“I did it five times, got pregnant three of those but never made it past eleven weeks.” I looked into his eyes, then my face crumpled. “I made three baby blankets.”

He dropped his forehead down onto my shoulder. His voice gruff, he asked, “Do you still have them?”

I nodded, rubbing my cheek against his.

“Will you show me?”

I’d never shared them with anybody. Not even Gary. He had no patience for what might have been, constantly advising me to look forward.

I nodded. “I’d like that.”

My breath shuddered out of me. “I spent every penny I had saved up for a house.” My voice shook. This part was the worst because I betrayed myself. “It would have been worth it if it had worked. It would have been worth it if it had been my choice. But it didn’t and it wasn’t. All I had left after four and a half years was a broken engagement, my shattered self-esteem, empty arms, and a two-year dance with depression.”

“He was wrong to ask that of you.”

I cringed. “I went to see my doctor the other day to ask for birth control.”

He nodded and murmured, “Of course. You don’t want to take the risk. That’s understandable.”

I shook my head impatiently. “There is no risk, but I still hope. Even though it’s impossible, every time we make love, I wonder what a child of ours might look like. A baby with your eyes and my hair,” my voice trembled. “Your smile and my dad’s laugh. I wonder if we might have a miracle. I can’t be on that rollercoaster. I got so depressed last time,” I spoke faster. “I can’t go back there—”

He hushed me, running his big hand over my hair. “Go on birth control for now, okay? I’ll get a vasectomy and once we know I’m shooting blanks you can go off it.”

I gaped. “You would do that for me?”

He snorted and nuzzled his nose against my cheek. “Shae, you’ve gotta know by now I’d do anything for you.” His eyebrows crunched together, his eyes searching mine. “I looked you up once.”

“You did?”

He nodded, his face pinched. “Just the once. You were engaged to be married. You looked happy. I never looked again. I figured you’d get married and have a handful of kids.” He held me closer. “I’d give anything for you to have had that. Even if it wasn’t with me.”

I froze and stared at him.

“You would have made the most beautiful babies,” he whispered, brushing the backs of his fingers across my cheek. Eyes welling, he tipped his chin down to press his forehead to mine. “I’m so sorry you lost your babies, Shae.”

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