Page 66 of Into the Light

With my eyes shut, I whispered, “I was pregnant.”

The circles stopped, but only for a moment before they continued. I kept my eyes shut, willing the tears to stay in. He stayed quiet, but I had no idea what his face looked like because I refused to look back.

I think that’s why it hurt me when I needed Maddy, my friends, my dad, my own brother the most because I was going through a simultaneous loss, and no one was there for me. They were all wrapped up in the blame game trying to figure out who was at fault for something that was so obviously no one’s fault.

All I needed was comfort.

“I-I found out the night after the accident. I thought I was throwing up constantly because I was under so much stress, but I realized that my period was late, and I took a test, and sure enough, I was pregnant.”

“Em . . .” He grabbed my shoulders, and I turned around to his deep-blue eyes that held a world of care and concern. I didn’t need his concern now, I needed it back then. Now I was a different person than I used to be.

“Let me finish,” I whispered. He nodded, and I shifted so my feet were draped over his lap, and his hands continued the comforting circles around my thighs. I inhaled as much as my lungs would allow me to.

“I was twenty weeks pregnant when I lost the baby. I’d just found out it was a little girl.” I swallowed, remembering the day I found out she didn’t have a heartbeat. I’d gotten her a little shirt in the mail that day and was so excited to put it in what would be her nursery. It was my first real purchase because coming to terms with being a single parent while grieving was so fucking hard. For a month, I was in denial I was even pregnant, but the more I had to go to ultrasounds, the more real it became for me. I remember thinking she would be my little sunshine in all the darkness.

“I was going to name her . . . Sol.”I could barely breathe as the words came out of my mouth. The only other person I’d ever told this to was my therapist. I wanted to give her a piece of her dad in her name, and it felt so fitting.

“I went to the doctor’s office.” My voice cracked, and the wetness padded the tops of my cheeks. I stared diligently at the circles that Rain kept rubbing on my leg. “I was all by myself, Rain.” I closed my eyes, unable to remember what happened because of the pain that I could feel surrounding me like an unwelcome hug.

“They told me that her heart stopped beating and I was going to have to deliver her . . . sleeping. I had to get so many ultrasounds to confirm what the doctors knew; her heart just no longer worked. It was unexplainable. No one knew why it was happening.” I swallowed so hard that my throat felt raw as the words tried to come out. “The next day, I needed to go in for them to start the labor process.” I paused as my breath quickened, and I knew I needed to get this out quickly before the pain consumed me.

“It was a sterile room. Santiago was there. He was the only one who knew what was going on and held my hand the entire twenty-four hours. I-I wouldn’t be here without him. After I gave birth to my sleeping angel, I went home and spent those four months alone in my room, and I couldn’t get out of bed.” The wetness gathered on my cheeks as Rain’s hold on me tightened.

“I knew that she had to go meet her dad first because of how special he was. She was just ready to rest with him before she had the chance to meet me. But right after it all happened? I couldn’t understand that. I was really fucking depressed. That’s when my dad started to come around a little because Santiago was worried and both of them encouraged me to talk to someone about what happened, especially because I refused to talk to my dad about it.” I sighed.

“Ember, if I had known—” I looked up for the first time since I told my story, and Rain had tears flowing freely, wetting his cheeks.

“You would have what? Come and rescued me?” I chuffed. “We both know at that time you wouldn’t have done anything.”

I sighed, realizing that sounded shitty and I didn’t mean it. “There was a lot of healing we needed to do internally in order for us to find each other again.”

He paused, then slowly brought his fingers up to his face, rubbing away my tears. “I haven’t been able to feel this intensely since he passed away.”

“Is that a bad thing?” I said, wishing I had the same problem, no, instead I did too much crying.

“Yes. I just want to . . . feel,” he whispered.

I wasn’t ready to dive into the arms of anyone right away, even a couple months ago when I first came back to Isles. If you told me I would fall in love with my late boyfriend’s brother, I would have laughed. He wasn’t there for me, and he needed to do a lot more groveling than just one weekend could allow for me to forgive him.

I learned so much about Rain these last few months. The foundation we’d built was steady, strong, and protective. Ash was always meant to be my first love—the one who would take me on a wild ride of sexual experiences and emotional rollercoasters. With Rain, it felt more consistent, and we shared a deep connection. But those were things I couldn’t see until I saw him break down last weekend in front of me.

Sitting on that couch and witnessing him crumble, I yearned to tell him that everything was all right. I had endured and come out stronger, thanks to the resilience I had discovered within myself.

“I’m okay . . . now. I’ve had a long time to process what happened.” I gave him a slight smile. “Like I said, Ash was just that special. She needed to hang out with her daddy first.”

Reaching up, I wiped the tears freely falling down his face. “Shh, it’s okay,” I whispered. “What I said in class earlier, my biggest fear is that I am not able to open my heart anymore to expose myself for more loss because I truly cannot take it after all of this.”

He paused, sighed, and looked up as if the ceiling would rain down all the answers he needed.

“He’s up there.” Rain’s voice was nothing more than a whisper.

I looked up at the ceiling, matching Rain’s movements, as if we could see Ash. My foot shook uncontrollably.

“He’s up there with his daughter—your daughter— taking good care of her.”

Thinking of what it would look like if I saw the two of them again, kicking a soccer ball together or something a dad would do, the corners of my lips twisted into a sad smile before I muttered, “Yeah, he is.”

We sat with only the crackle of fire from the hearth around us as I gained control of my chest, the air slowly making its way back to my lungs.

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