Opening the door is hard. I don’t want her to see me cry. I need to be strong for her. Yet my throat is working like a bellows, opening and closing. I take another breath and go inside.
She’s in the center of the bed, curled up against the pillows, and wearing one of my team shirts. She looks fragile, defeated, her brown eyes huge in the oval of her pale face. My heart bleeds for her, a physical ache that has me leaning against the doorframe.
She meets my eyes and her lower lip wobbles. I think mine does too.
“Hey,” I whisper.
“Hey,” she gets out. And then bursts into choking tears.
Instantly, I go to her, toeing off my shoes as I move. My jeans come off next. Only then do I notice Fi sitting next to Ivy. She rises, leaving us, as I make it to Ivy’s side. Without pause, I push aside the pillows and slide in behind Ivy. I’ll be her pillow now. My legs ease around hers. Gently as I can, I scoop Ivy up and settle her in my lap, drawing the covers up high over us.
I rock her as she cries, my face burrowed into the crook of her neck so she can’t see my tears. It takes me a moment to realize she’s saying, “I’m sorry” over and over. My hands shake as I stroke her back, trying to calm her.
When she relaxes a little, I lean us back against the headboard. “Why are you sorry?”
Ivy’s huge eyes find mine. “It’s my fault.”
I smooth her bangs back from her forehead. “How?”
“Gray…” Her fist clenches my shirt. “I…” She starts to cry again, a quiet roll of tears. “When I found out I was pregnant, I didn’t want it. I was afraid, angry. What if…? I thought those horrible things…”
A sob leaves her.
I hug her close. “You’re fucking human. That’s all. You didn’t make this happen. It just wasn’t the right time, honey.”
But she isn’t listening. “And then I lost— And I feel so guilty. So…sad. It hurts, Gray.”
“I know.” I cup her head to my chest. “I know it does.”
“I didn’t want this to happen. No matter what I thought, I didn’t want this.” She sounds so broken, it kills me.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I should have been here. I should have been here.”
“You were playing your game.” Her voice is small against my skin. Guilty. “I told them not to get you.”
“Yeah,” I say, trying not to sound pissed, because if I think about it, I will be. “We’re going to have words about that later.”
Ivy’s head nods, but she grips me tighter. I reach past her and grab the tissue box someone left on the side of the bed. Ivy blows her nose, then settles back onto me.
We’re quiet for a long time. My left hip is numb and my shirt is damp with her tears. But I don’t move. “I’ve been thinking. About things. My mom died a slow, painful death.” I breathe past the tightness in my chest. “Drew lost his parents overnight. Truth is, life ebbs and flows no matter what we do. All these years, I’ve been trying to get some control over that by not giving a shit about anything. What kind of life is that?”
Ivy’s fingers play with mine as she leans more of her weight on me, sinking into my strength for support. I’m glad I’m strong, that my body can be used for more than sex or football. That it can be used in service of her, to protect.
“Bad things happen, Mac,” I whisper thickly. “And this? It tears my heart apart.” Ivy shudders, a little sniffle coming out. I hold her as secure as I can without squeezing her too hard, and then press my lips to her head. “I hurt for you. For me. For… Shit.”
A choked sound comes out of me. And then it’s Ivy holding me tight, her face pressed against the crook of my shoulder. “Gray…”