Page 105 of The Summer that Changed Everything

“What can you do for me? You’re not even going to ask about the baby?”

He fought his own impatience. “How is the baby?” he asked.

“Not good.”

Her words hit him like a slap in the face. “What do you mean?”

“The doctor says I’m developing preeclampsia.”

That didn’t sound good. “Which is...”

“Something about high blood pressure and protein in my urine.”

“What does it mean?”

“It could be dangerous for the baby, could mean our child might not get enough oxygen and nutrients.”

He sank onto the hot sand, missing the towel completely. “How do we fix it?”

“Well, since it’s caused by stress, the doctor says I need torelax, which is why I’m hoping you’ll come home and support me like a caring husband should. We need to iron out our marriage—get into counseling and start working together again.”

Ford had thought this would be a quick call, that he’d just take a few minutes to placate her. But this was anything except superficial. It was the bomb that was going to blow up the greatest happiness he’d ever found.

“Are you there?”

The sand was burning him through his trunks, but he didn’t even move. He didn’t care about that; it didn’t hurt nearly as much as his heart.

“Ford?”

“I’m here,” he said woodenly.

“Will you come home to me?”

He hated the way she’d added “to me” as if that should have special significance. Returning early felt like he was letting Lucy down again, abandoning her when she needed him most. But he had to be there for his child, and if his child needed him now, what choice did he have? “I’ll think about it,” he said and disconnected.

Ford had been subdued all evening. Lucy asked him if something was wrong, but he wouldn’t really say. He just watched her carefully, would hardly look away, and instead of wanting to talk or watch TV like they usually did in the evening, he wanted to hold her whenever he could.

When they made love, it was different, too. Sex with Ford had always been good, but this time he took everything so slowly, as if it was the last time they’d ever be together. And when they were finished, and she’d closed her eyes to drift off to sleep, he’d whispered, “I love you, Lucy. I will always love you.”

He’d never said those words before. They were momentous.And she would’ve said the same. But she didn’t even open her eyes. She could tell he’d thought she was asleep, so he hadn’t really meant for her to hear them. Something was definitely wrong, and she had a terrible feeling about what it could be. She’d seen that call come in from Christina when they were outside the police station. She’d also seen him on the phone when he got out of the ocean to put on some sunblock while they were at the beach. She feared those two events were related to what was going on with him, and sheknewthat was the case the next morning.

Although she woke up to a beautiful bouquet of fresh flowers by the bed—which he’d gotten out of the yard he’d groomed so carefully—and the smell of bacon, she understood Ford was leaving. She could see that he’d taken his suitcase out so he could pack.

Covering her face with her hands, she tried to absorb the pain without tears. She’d known goodbye was coming. But once she dropped her hands and looked at the flowers he’d gathered for her again, she felt a warm tear roll across her temple and into her hair.

A sound drew her attention to the door. Ford was standing there in nothing but a pair of sweat suit shorts, watching her with a pained expression. “I have to go back to DC,” he said.

She couldn’t speak, so she nodded.

“I don’t want to,” he admitted. “But...”

“I know,” she managed to say.

“Will you have breakfast with me before I go?” he asked.

Again, she nodded.

When he returned to the kitchen, she reached over to pull the pillow he’d used into her body. She could smell his cologne on the linens, which made the lump in her throat grow that much larger. They were supposed to have had the summer. But she was willing to bet Christina had made sure it didn’t happen.

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