I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat.
He holds my eyes for a long moment, then disappears back into the bathroom.
What the hell have I gotten myself into?
Worse, what has he gotten himself into?
CHAPTER 10
“What happened with your husband?” Heath asks, long after he’s finished showering and the awkward silence between us has faded.
I stand from the bed and join him on the sofa, sitting an arm’s length away from him. That seems like the right thing to do. “He struggled, partially because of me, partially because of his own guilt.”
“Wasn’t your fault,” he mutters.
“No, but I was so desperate to find you and the more they told me that you didn’t exist, the harder it got for me. I stopped and actually wondered if maybe they were right—maybe I was losing my mind. Then something would happen, and I couldn’t believe that I was crazy so I pushed harder, trying to get them to understand. He told me I was losing it, wanted me to get help. He gave me a choice—I either got help or he was going to leave.”
“And you let him leave.”
My heart twists and I nod, swallowing back my tears. “I let him leave, but I’d already made the choice to end it. It just turned out we were on the same page. Not because I wanted to prove a point, but because he wasn’t behaving like the husband I knew. He just wanted it all to go away; he didn’t know how to handle it, and he just wanted me to stop hurting. He’s always been a little like that. When things are good, he’s happy, but if things go bad, he struggles.”
“He should have had your back.”
I look away and a tear sneaks out and rolls down my cheek. “Yeah, he should have. But he chose not to. He found it all too hard. I wasn’t exactly easy, though.”
“You weren’t meant to be—you were the one hurting. Do you think part of his problem was because he wasn’t there when he should have been?”
I nod, still looking away. “His job has been the most important thing in his life for a long time. When we found out I was pregnant, I thought that would change but it didn’t. His job was always going to come first, and I think for the first time in his life, he had to suffer the consequences of that.”
“Hard lesson to learn.”
I swallow.
Keep it together, Lucy.
“You lost your baby,” he says softly. “Do you think you resent him for that?”
I flinch.
That thought hasn’t crossed my mind, not even for a second, but hearing him mention it lights a fire in my chest, an angry fire that I didn’t even know was there because yes, I do resent him. He should have been there with me. If he was, I might have never been so frightened.
The second I have that thought I feel instant guilt and shove it out. I would have lost the baby no matter what. It wasn’t his fault.
I’m a mess.
“Yes and no,” I whisper.
“You okay?”
I keep my eyes facing the window, my entire body fighting against the tears that so desperately want to burst forth. “Fine,” I croak.
“Lucy, look at me.”
“I can’t, Heath.”
“Honey,” he says, his voice softer now, gentler. “Look at me.”
I look to him, and the second my eyes fall on his face, the tears explode and run down my cheeks. He moves quickly, pulling me onto his lap, tucking my tiny body into his, wrapping his arms around me. Comfort explodes in me, and I hate that I’m relying so heavily on him to give it to me. I hate that, because when he leaves in the morning, I’m going to be left feeling empty and I don’t think I can’t handle it again.
“You don’t have to keep being strong,” he murmurs against my hair.
“I lost my baby,” I sob. “I wanted it so much and I lost it. I lost my husband. I lost everything.”
“It’ll get better. I know it doesn’t seem like it right now, but your husband probably just needs time and—”
“I don’t want him to come back.”
Heath’s body tenses against mine. “You don’t mean that, Lucy.”
“I do,” I cry, pulling away and looking into his eyes. “It scares me because I’m afraid the feeling of not wanting him is just a temporary reaction, but right here, right now, in this moment—I don’t want him back. I just . . . don’t.”
“You’re hurting. You’ve had your life turned upside-down. Give it time. Don’t make any serious decisions until you’re sure of what you want—trust me on that.”
“I don’t want him back,” I whisper before I can stop myself. “I don’t, because I don’t need him. I need you.”
He closes his eyes for a brief second. “You think you need me, but, honey, you don’t. I’m just a comfort you’re relating to a time of terror. Now you’re hurting and I’m like a pain reliever. I give you comfort. I make you feel okay. It’s nothing more than that.”
“It is more than that,” I croak. “Don’t act like you don’t feel it.”
“Lucy,” he says, his voice holding a quiet warning. “You’re married.”