Page 23 of Infinite
I wish I could believe him. “You weren’t there!” I get to my feet as a new wave of agony rips through me. “You didn’t see! You didn’t . . . you couldn’t . . . and then you were gone. I lost everything! Everything!” The last word cracks in a mix of sorrow and anger.
He pulls me back down, holding me tightly, his arms acting as a shield against the pain, and I smother my face in his chest. I want to go to sleep and never wake up to live in this nightmare. It’s all too much.
“I should’ve been there. I wanted to get to you, and I hate myself for letting you down.”
“You were . . . God, Quinn, you were taken!”
He pushes my hair back off my wet cheeks. “I should’ve fought to escape, but I wasn’t sure how it would play out. I had to be smart, and all this time you were here suffering.”
There’s so much guilt cocooning us that one of us may suffocate under it. He kisses the top of my head, letting me lose myself as I will my tears away. I’ve cried enough, and I don’t deserve to release it.
“You say you don’t blame me, so what makes you think I blame you?”
“Because I would. I never should’ve followed him. You told me you needed me, and I thought I could wait another two minutes, get the info, and get back here. I was a fool.”
No, he isn’t a fool. He was doing his job while I was failing to do mine. I’m angry, sad, overwhelmed, happy he’s alive, angry again that we had to go through this. It doesn’t make any sense, and there’s nothing that will ever fix it.
“You didn’t lose our child, Quinn. You didn’t—”lose the only chance we’ll ever have. I can’t say the last part because it will be where he sees how I’m no longer whole. Instead, I give him the out he deserves. “I understand if you want to leave.”
Quinn pulls back and forces my eyes to meet his. “Leave?”
“I promised you something that I can’t give.”
His head tilts to the side as though he’s trying to figure out what I’m saying. “What did you promise?”
“A life. A baby. My heart. I don’t care, take your pick. I can’t give you any of those right now.”
“Ashton, I love you, and I’m . . . heartbroken that we lost the baby. I would’ve given anything to . . . but . . . it’syouwho is my life and my heart. The entire time I was gone, all I did was try to hold on to the fact that I had to live to get back to you. I had to force myself not to think of your face.” He runs his hand along my cheek. “Your eyes.” Quinn touches the skin below, running along the dark circles there. “Or dream about your smile and your heart or I would’ve never made it out of there. I was always told that loving someone made you weak, and they were wrong, sweetheart. So wrong. I wasn’t weak because of loving you, I was strong and determined, even when I felt beaten. You were what made me live. We have a long future ahead of us and time for a baby. I’m not leaving you. I lived to get back to you.”
I shake my head as he’s about to find out that I’m not just broken, I’m destroyed. “There will never be a baby for us, Quinn.”
“I know you’re hurting, and I’m not asking for you to try anytime soon . . .”
I push back out of his arms, but my hand stays on his chest so he doesn’t come closer. “No. I’m saying that we will never have a child. I will never have a child.”
“I don’t understand,” his voice is filled with apprehension.
“I didn’t just lose the baby, I lost everything. I’m unable to have a child. Ever.”
9
Ashton
Not a single tear fills my gaze as I watch his face. I wait for a reaction, but Quinn is a trained man. He doesn’t flinch or change his posture. He looks at me with studying eyes, and slowly, the man emerges.
He shakes his head in disbelief, expression filling with sadness. “I don’t understand. You don’t want to try again?”
My heart lurches because there’s nothing I want more. I would give it all back—him, my job, my home, my entire life—if it meant that I could try again. “It wasn’t just a miscarriage, Quinn. I lost everything. I had to have a—” I hiccup and lock up my emotions because I need to say it. “Hysterectomy. There was too much bleeding, and to save my life . . . well, we can never have children—or, at least, I can never have children.”
The words seep in, I watch as awareness that it wasn’t a tragic miscarriage starts to settle over him. It was the end of the dreams I once had.
The family I envisioned with him. The little girls with my red hair and his smile are gone. The boy that had his strong jaw, dark brown hair, and my eyes fade like mist in the morning, evaporating with the sun that I wish never came. In the light, there is truth that only the darkness hides. There’s no more darkness here.
“I failed you.” Quinn’s voice snaps me out of my daze.
“You what?”
Doesn’t he understand it wasn’t him? He did nothing wrong. I did it all. I’m the one who should be getting yelled at because I’m responsible for all of this. Only he doesn’t see it, which is the worst part of it all. He’ll wake up one day, looking at me with the same hatred in which I look at myself. He’ll know that it was me who caused this level of grief for our could-be family.
