Page 180 of Modern Romance November 2024 5-8

Mia went completely still and taut, her face like a blank mask, while Santos wished he could bite back the words. He hadn’t meant to say them, or hadn’t wanted to feel them, yet...yes; part of him did feel them and mean them. It was a truth he hated to acknowledge, but there could be no doubting it. She hadn’t wanted their baby. They both knew that unequivocally. She’d told him so, when she’d found out she was pregnant, in a conversation that had shocked and hurt him unbearably. Whatever happened after,thathad been a basic reality neither of them could deny.

‘I always knew you felt that,’ she said quietly, too quietly. Her voice was small and sad, and it made him long to hold her, although neither of them moved. ‘Why did you deny it?’

‘Why are you denying it?’ he countered. ‘Mia, you didn’t want our child. You told me so in no uncertain terms. And me acknowledging that truth is a far,farcry from acting as if you killed our baby.’ His voice caught and he felt the sting of tears behind his lids.Their baby—so tiny, so perfect. The grief he hadn’t let himself feel since that day in hospital, when he’d been so horribly numb, now felt like a tidal wave poised to pull him under.

An Aguila is master of his own heart.

He forced himself to push it all back.

‘But you blamed me,’ she said softly. ‘You wouldn’t have asked the doctor those questions if you hadn’t, at least on some level.’

Briefly Santos closed his eyes, his thumb and forefinger bracing his temple. He felt the flicker of his migraine, like a ghostly reminder of the pain. ‘I didn’t blame you,’ he stated again. ‘Please believe that.’Hewanted to believe it, but Mia’s stark certainty was making him question himself. Had he blamed her? He’d been angry, certainly, as well as hurt. And there had been the grief he’d felt that he’d feared, and felt, she hadn’t. So he had retreated into a silence that had probably felt cold to Mia, like a rejection.

But she’d been the same, hadn’t she? She’d shut him out in so many ways, refusing to answer his questions, closing in on herself so he felt he had no access. They’d both been as bad as the other...or almost.

‘I can’t believe that, Santos,’ Mia said quietly. ‘I’m sorry, but I just can’t.’ She straightened, tilting her chin up a notch, her expression bleak. ‘So, where does that leave us?’

He stared at her for a moment, trying to sift through what she was saying. ‘You think we should divorce, then—just because you refuse to believe I didn’t blame you for the miscarriage?’

‘And you refuse to believe that you acted as you did, that you made me feel...’ She drew a shuddering breath. ‘It just feels like too much to get over. Maybe it was a mercy that things happened that way—me getting pregnant so quickly and...and then losing the baby.’ She gulped and then continued, ‘It made us see how incompatible we were...before it was too late.’

There was so much wrong with that theory that Santos didn’t even know where to begin. His jaw clenched as he fought down a wave of fury and did his best to keep his voice even. ‘Mia, we went through something hard—really hard. It doesn’t mean we’re incompatible. And itistoo late, anyway, because we’re married.’ He took a step towards her. ‘Did those vows mean anything to you?’ he demanded. ‘For better or for worse? In sickness and in health?’

‘Did they mean anything toyou?’ she tossed back at him. Their conversation had become a tennis match, each slinging accusations back and forth, a volley of words that left them both bereft. ‘You left me alone in hospital,’ she told him. ‘Right after I’d had the procedure. You turned and walked out of the room without a single word.’

Her voice throbbed with pain, shocking him. He’d completely forgotten about that and, remembering it now, he felt a flicker of shame. Hehadleft her, slumped on the edge of the bed, refusing to look at him or even to speak to him. He’d been in a fog of grief, dazed and reeling, painful memories mixing with the terrible present. He’d walked away because he hadn’t known what else to do. In truth, he couldn’t even remember doing it.

‘I suppose I thought you wanted to be alone,’ he told her. ‘You didn’t say a single word to me. But maybe I should have tried harder. At the time, I was just...reeling, really.’ He paused and then, the words feeling awkward even though he meant them, said, ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Oh, Santos.’ Mia let out a jagged laugh. ‘Don’t you see? We isolated ourselves from each other every single time. When things got hard, we did everything wrong. We never, ever turned towards each other in our grief and pain. I know you don’t think I felt any,’ she added, her tone turning spiky, ‘And maybe you’ll never be able to believe me about that, just like I can’t believe you about the blame. But I did feel it. I was sad about the loss of our baby, even if I wasn’t thrilled when I found out I was pregnant.’

‘I believe you,’ he said after a moment, and he did. It didn’t negate the other fact, of course—that she hadn’t wanted their baby—but he could see how those two sentiments could co-exist...sort of.

‘Do you?’ she asked despairingly, shaking her head.

A flash of irritation went through him, although he did his best to tamp it down. ‘What can I do to convince you, Mia?’ he asked. ‘You seem remarkably determined to believe the worst of me.’

‘And you seem determined to believe the worst ofme,’ she retorted, and then threw her hands up in the air. ‘Listen to us! We just never get anywhere. This is why we should divorce. You won’t ever see my perspective, and you won’t ever even let me know yours. How can we possibly make a marriage work?’

He stilled at this new accusation. ‘Wait...what is that supposed to mean?’

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. ‘You shut me out, Santos, at every turn. You wouldn’t talk about how you felt sad, or angry, or anything. Maybe I should have tried harder to get you to open up, but when I did it felt as if you just shut down even more. I ended up screaming at you like—like a fishwife and feeling worse about myself than I already did.

‘Do you know why I left?’ she demanded, her voice raw and throbbing with pain. ‘Because I couldn’t take it any more, feeling that way. Having you make me feel like the worst person in the world. I left because I couldn’t bear it. Sometimes...sometimes I thought I’d rather be dead, than feel the way I did, like our baby.’ She pressed her fist to her trembling lips as she choked back a sob, turning away from him to hide her face.

Santos stared at her in stunned disbelief. She’d rather have beendead? He didn’t think she was being melodramatic; Mia wasn’t prone to theatrics. But had he made her feel that way? He wanted to deny it,neededto, and yet he saw it there in her face—saw the way she was curling into herself, trying to hold back the sobs—and it felt as if the knowledge was tearing him to shreds.

Dear heaven.What had happened to them? How had they got to this forsaken place?

‘Mia...’ he began, reaching one hand out to her, even though she was too far away to touch. It was a paltry gesture, and he had no words. He felt utterly unequipped to deal with this moment and its fraught emotions. ‘Mia, please. When we get back to Seville we can—’

‘I can’t go back to Seville,’ she said suddenly, the words coming on a ragged gasp. ‘I can’t face that house—your mother, thesilverware...’ She let out a high, semi-hysterical laugh that ended on something between a shriek and a sob. ‘I won’t go back there, Santos. Don’t make me.’ She whirled around, her face pale and streaked with tears, her voice turning shrill, as if she was gripped by panic. ‘Don’t make me! Don’t make me,please!’

He’d never seen her as distraught as this, not even after the miscarriage. What on earth was going on? Thesilverware...? Santos realised there was a lot more going on than he’d ever understood, or tried to understand, but maybe he needed to now. He closed the space between her in two long strides. She was crying silently, tears slipping down her cheeks as she stared at him helplessly, and he took her by the shoulders.

‘Mia, please. It’s all right. It will be all right. I won’t make you. We...we don’t have to go back to Seville.’

She gave a shuddering gulp as she stared at him, tears still trickling down her face. ‘We...don’t?’

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