Page 20 of Bringing Emma Home

She’d given everything, every part of herself, to her marriage. She’d never once considered having an affair, and she despised the fact that her husband had felt the need to have one. Sure, it had been rough going through the tests, trying to have a baby. But he wasn’t the only one wishing that it could be over while praying for a baby to make their life together complete.

What hurt most was that now she had to face the fact that he didn’t want a baby nearly as much as she did. He could deny that, but it was true. He’d seen fit to have a fling with someone during the darkest period of her life, and he’d resisted talking to the adoption lawyer.

She’d begun to realize that all her plans for a happy life with Aidan that included children lay in ruins. A part of her was sure that there was nothing left between them.

She realized that most of her friends would see her willingness to try to repair her marriage as degrading and pointless, given his infidelity. But despite these past few weeks, she knew Aidan to be a decent man.

To talk about adoption in the middle of this crisis was pure denial on her part. Yet she hadn’t let go of that dream, that possibility of getting a child. She supposed, underneath it all, she needed to keep her life as normal as possible and to believe that she and Aidan had a chance to survive this if they worked hard enough.

So she’d made dinner. For them and two of their friends, Cecilia and Dave. As though everything was fine. As though Grace and Aidan were actually considering adoption. It was better than facing the evening alone, which was what she’d been doing since seeing the photos of Emma.

Aidan came up behind her and put his hands on her waist, something that had always made her lean back into his embrace. “Grace, I’ve finished setting the table. Anything else I can do?” he whispered close to her ear, sending tiny points of excitement hurtling down her body. She resisted the urge to lean into him and, instead, ran hot water into the sink in preparation for cleaning the frying pan and spatulas she’d used.

He continued to hold her gently yet securely. She was powerless to resist him. “Grace, I know how hard this has been for you, this waiting and wondering.”

She turned in his arms and gazed into his eyes, his body’s warmth drawing her closer. “If you really know how difficult this is for me, why haven’t you stayed home with me during the evening? It’s lonely here with no one to talk to about all this.”

He bowed his head, his forehead touching hers. “I wish I had. Most of the time I sat in my office trying to face the truth about me, about what I’d done, how stupid I felt. Wherever my thoughts took me, one thing remained the same. This is my fault. I hurt you. I’m sorry. So sorry for what I did. I can’t say it enough.”

She wanted to resist him, make him pay for what he did to her, to them. But she needed his arms around her, needed to feel his body pressed into hers. She missed him so much, his lovemaking, his caring touch, the feeling that they would always be together. She put her arms around his neck and raised her face to his.

He reacted with a deep sigh of need, his lips touching hers, demanding and hot. She angled her body closer, feeling his erection against her tummy and writhing against it.

“Oh, Grace. I’ve missed you so much,” he said against her mouth, his breath hot on her lips.

“Me, too,” she whispered, pulling him closer, her need for him sweeping all other thoughts from her mind.

He picked her up. “We’ve got time,” he said, holding her tight as they started for the bedroom.

“You’re going to carry me upstairs?” she said, surprised. “You haven’t done that in years.”

“I may spend my days behind a desk but I can still carry my wife upstairs,” he said, his embrace firm as he maneuvered through the living room toward the stairs just as the phone rang.

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