Page 83 of When You Are Mine

He looked down at her tear-streaked face, running his thumb along her cheek, following a wet path to her chin. He licked the salty wetness on his fingers. Her tears hit his tongue like a sorrowed liquor, heady and numbing. He clutched her closer to steady himself, not sure he could stand on his own without her as scaffolding.

Don’t go. Don’t leave me. Don’t go. Don’t leave me. So lost. So lost.

His father’s howling dirge haunted him, whistling through his deserted soul like an icy wind. The walls he’d erected since the day he’d met Kerris crumbled. Walls constructed of morals and right and convention gave way, collapsing beneath the heaviness of pain and loss. And the words he’d sworn he’d never say stormed past his well-meaning lips.

“Kerris, come with me.”

She stiffened, pulling away as far as the vise of his arms would allow.

“Walsh, I can’t—”

“Just a week. Find a way to come to me for a few days. I can’t do this without you. It’s too much. This hurts—”

“Walsh, I know, but we can’t—”

“We can go somewhere no one knows us.”

He tightened his fingers around her arms.

“Thereisn’tsomewhere no one knows you.”

She pulled away altogether, putting at least a few inches between them.

“Hong Kong.” He stepped back into her orbit, but forced himself not to grab her. “My dad has a house in Hong Kong.”

“Walsh, no.” Sadness and regret darkened her eyes, but her mouth straightened into a firm, determined line. “I know you’re hurting, but no.”

“You’d have your own room.” He pulled her close again, meshing his fingers with hers, his voice a persuasion. “I’m not asking you to sleep with me. You know I’m not. I just need you. I just—”

“Walsh, I’m pregnant.”

Her whisper sliced him open with the delicate strength of a scalpel. Flayed him like a frog stretched out for dissection. Her skin burned under his fingers. He stepped away, singed.

“You’re—”

“Pregnant, yes.” Kerris’s hands settled at her midriff. She angled her head, trying to look into the eyes he’d lowered to the ground. “So you see, I really can’t.”

She recaptured his fingers, raising her other hand to cup his jaw like she was afraid it might break. Nudging his chin until he was forced to look at her.

“I’m happy, Walsh. You know this is what I’ve always wanted. This is what it was all about. A family of my own. I want this.”

“Yeah. I know. I guess Cam’s over the moon.”

The words piled up in his mouth like ashes.

“He doesn’t even know yet. I haven’t had the chance to tell him.” She shook her head, dropping her hand to guard her stomach. “I found out the morning your mother passed away, and it just didn’t feel right.”

It still didn’t feel right to Walsh. Kerris carrying another man’s child felt like sunshine at midnight. Like snow on the Fourth of July. Upside down. Everything was so wrong. Kerris should be married tohim. Carryinghischild. His mother should be here, not buried and silent forever. He and Cam should be close, the best of friends still.

But nothing was right.

“Right.” He squeezed his hand around her fingers, so slight but strong.

The silence between them thickened with lost possibility. Walsh stroked her hair back from her face, savoring what felt like their last moments. There had never been any going back, not since Kerris’s wedding day. This new life, this baby Kerris had longed for, widened the gulf between them until it was more impassable than it had ever been.

Walsh watched tears streak down from under eyelids she’d pressed together, standing still for a moment more and letting the loss rush over him. Loss not just for his mother, but for the possibility that had been so close. If Kerris had listened to him the night of his mother’s party, she might have been pregnant with his child. He beat the thought back, knowing it was futile. He looked down at her and wondered if she ever thought about it. They both started when the door swung open without warning.

“Kerris, Cam is—” Jo cut the words off, dropping the room temperature with one frosty look. “Cam’s looking for you. Your husband. Remember him?”

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