Page 62 of Falling Inn Love
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about that,” I whisper.
“I think I knew,” he said quietly. “I could feel there was more.”
“From the moment I discovered I was pregnant, I loved her. Before I even knew her. I was so excited to meet my baby. Emilia Grace.”
“That’s a beautiful name,” he says.
“She was so beautiful,” I tell him, my voice cracking. I close my eyes and let myself remember her. As painful as it is, I remember my baby. “I can still smell her newborn smell, feel her warmth in my arms, hear her baby cries…”
When I look up at him, I see he’s tearing up, but his eyes never leave mine.
“I loved being Emmie’s mom. I loved every minute of it. But I was so tired. Exhausted, I wasn’t sleeping, and neither was John…” I hadn’t slept more than two hours straight for several weeks. I needed a break so desperately. “Oh, Evan, I’ll never forgive myself.”
Evan squeezes my hand. Not tightly but firmly. I’m already feeling lighter by finally telling him this.
“I was so overwhelmed and I snapped at John. I just freaked out on him. He needed to run some errands and offered to take her with him. I can still remember the smile on his face as he told me to take a nap. He told me he loved me. Those were his last words to me. I told him I loved him too, that I’d be a new woman when I’d had some sleep, and everything would be fine when they got back.”
I shiver and Evan warms me.
“Only… They never came back. I sent them out so that I could take anap.And that’s why it’s my fault.”
“Oh, Beth, no,” Evan tries, but I’m not ready to stop.
“I’ll never forget a single detail of that day. It’s burned into my mind forever. Her ‘Congrats! It's a girl!’ balloon hanging limp on the back of my dining room chair. John’s contact lens case laying open on the bathroom counter. These simple, day-to-day things that remind us of all we have left.”
He holds me closer.
“I fell into bed and thought I had slept for hours, but then I woke with a start. Something was wrong. My heart knew something wasn’t right. I looked at my phone and I had only been asleep for twenty-five minutes. I called John right away and he didn’t answer. I texted, called more, and nothing.”
“How old was Emmie?” Evan asks quietly.
“Three months.”
Evan leans into me.
“After, Cara was my rock, answering all of the police’s questions, picking me up when I was at my lowest and supporting me however she could. I was inconsolable for a long time, and I felt like the only way to move on was to leave Austin. To leave the place that held all of the memories I shared with my family. The memories we’d never be able to make any more of.”
Tears stream down my face. Six years of pent-up sadness, grief, and anger come pouring out of me that I have spent years burying under writing, running, and not getting close to anyone.
It’s done. I shared most of it with him. I feel relieved. Spent. Exhausted.
“I’m sorry,” Evan says, grazing his lips over the top of my head. “I can’t imagine what you’ve been through.”
The warmth of his lips starts to fill the void. The parts of me that died with my family begin to come to life again with his touch. With his love.
“I’m so glad Cara was there with you,” he tells me. “That you didn’t have to go through that nightmare alone.”
My best friend. My sister. She was eight months pregnant, and even after she gave birth to her twins, she still managed to be there for me.
I start shaking, anxious about what he must think about me now. Does he pity me? I don’t want anyone’s pity. I don’t want anyone to feel sorry for me.
I pull away. I don’t deserve his love and sympathy. “Do you see now why I can’t be with you? Everyone I love dies. My mom, husband, and baby are gone because of me. I can’t do that again. I can’t bring this kind of pain and messed-up trauma here to you and your family.”
Evan shakes his head. “None of that is your fault.”
Now I shake mine. “No. I don’t deserve anything. I need to go. I’m sorry. I can’t do this. It’s just too hard.”
I walk back to his cottage and ignore his pleas for me to come back.
