“I made a mistake,” she replied, wiping her fingers over her cheeks to get rid of the last dregs of her crying. “But so did you. You could have let me know. You could have let your mother call me and I would have come. For God’s sake, I didn’t hate you.”
“You turned your back on our marriage.”
“I was afraid. And that didn’t mean I wouldn’t have been there for you. I never stopped caring or…”
He leaned forward, slid a hand around her back and pulled her closer along the soft mattress, so that their chests nearly met. The candles on the table still flickered, casting shadows through the room now that evening was approaching.
“Or what, Ell?”
But she couldn’t say it. Couldn’t admit that she never stopped loving him. It put everything too much in the present, far too close.
“Or nothing,” she murmured, looking down at the white bedspread. “I just wish you’d told me. It’s a heck of a secret to keep. When I think of you, so ill, it’s like someone’s ripped a hole in my stomach, leaving this empty place behind. How did you ever convince your parents to promise?”
“They were so angry with you for leaving in the first place, it wasn’t hard. All I had to do was show them your letter. Then I made them swear on a Bible.”
Ella’s face flamed. The letter she’d written to Dev, pouring out her insecurities, covering them up with protests that they’d made a horrible mistake and she didn’t want to be married to him anymore. That foolish, foolish letter. It was no wonder she had never heard from Mr. and Mrs. McQuade. That had hurt too, giving up the couple that had been the closest thing to two parents she’d ever known. The best example she’d had of how a marriage and family were supposed to work.
“How can you blame me for not being there when you wouldn’t even tell me the truth? Did you hate me that much?”
Dev ran his hand through his hair, sighing, feeling on edge for the umpteenth time today. God Almighty, it had taken everything he had not to beg her to come back. But if he had, he would have always wondered why she’d done it. Would it have been out of love or sympathy? And he hadn’t known what the prognosis would be. He’d wanted to protect her from the ugliness of hospitals and continuous treatments. Hell, maybe he should have set her free when she sent the divorce papers each time. But the truth was he’d wanted, needed, her to come to him and ask face-to-face.
“That was why I didn’t come after you. I was too sick, too weak to fight—I was fighting for my life instead. I was not the man you’d married.”
“And so that’s why you stepped in and helped Betty.”
“Yes. She helped me that day in the drugstore and she helped me in the days after. She brought me pie she’d made and books from the library. She visited me in the hospital and held the cup and straw for me when I was too weak to do it for myself. She became like, I don’t know, like a favorite aunt. She cared, and now I have my chance to finally repay that favor. I know what it is like to be afraid you are dying and then be burdened with the knowledge that you can’t pay for any of it. If I can spare her that concern, I’m happy to do it.
“You didn’t have any insurance either.”
He shook his head, remembering getting the diagnosis and wondering where the money was going to come from. Wondering if he’d die before he could get proper treatment. “Not for that. You know my parents. Hell, we both grew up on the edges of poor. Whatever we had was the bare minimum.”
It was true. The main difference in their families wasn’t annual income. Instead it was the love they all seemed to share and a sense of family that she and her mother had never quite accomplished, it being just the two of them scraping by. Ella had never felt unequal next to Devin in her thrift store jeans and cheap T-shirts. Other girls were concerned with labels and having the latest “in” thing, but not Ella. There hadn’t been money for that. Her mother had worked two jobs just to keep a roof over their heads. Devin had slightly better clothes, but there was no money for flash. He’d never judged her for it, and to her, he’d been the most gorgeous boy in school.
He still was, she admitted to herself. The best-looking man she’d ever known. One with the power to reach inside her and turn everything upside down.
“So how did you pay for it?” She leaned forward a tiny bit, reveling in the warmth radiating from his body, luring her in, cozy in its security. If she wasn’t careful, she’d end up snuggled in his arms as they talked. And that would be dangerous indeed.
“I had to take all the money I’d saved—every penny—to pay the bills. My parents remortgaged their home, and even then it took a few years before it was paid for. How could I go to you then? I’d been saving since I was fifteen for the future. And every dime we’d put away towards our plans was gone. I was penniless, sick…”
He stopped as if he were suddenly choking on words. He released his hands and her body felt cold without the warmth of his nearness seeping through her dress. What could be worse than losing your wife and finding out you had a brain tumor? What else was he keeping from her?
They’d come this far. Sitting in a hotel room, on top of the covers, not beneath them. Being as honest as she could ever remembering being in her life. Nothing she’d rehearsed in her head this afternoon had prepared her for this. A simple reason behind Betty Tucker’s bills had become a full-fledged post-mortem of their marriage.
He cleared his throat. “I was penniless, sick, afraid of dying. And I was afraid for you to see any of it.”
“So you took my choice away.” She pushed away and got up off the bed, feeling stronger than she had all day. Yes, she’d written that stupid letter. But he’d gotten all macho and manly and had cut her out. “And then you made me pay for it every year by your silence. Not caring and not setting me free either.”
“I never said I didn’t care.” He slid off the bed as well and faced her. “You were the one who left me.”
“I was scared, you idiot!” The outburst rang through the room. “You were always there to make things better, you know? And suddenly you weren’t. And going home meant giving up. Leaving you meant finding the strength to stand on my own two feet.”
The earlier softness in his eyes hardened, cooled. “I’m sorry I held you back so very much. Now you’ve got your story. Do what you will.” He held up a hand, clearly dismissive and she chafed against the command. She’d do as she damn well pleased.
“Look, Devin. I’ll buy that you didn’t want to put me through the cancer or whatever. But once you were well…you could have explained. I took your silence for assent. What was I supposed to think?”
“I was angry, Ella. So angry. At you, at life… The more time went on, the longer it went and still you didn’t come, I refused to sign the papers each and every time you sent them. I hated you for leaving and for not coming back to end things the right way.”
“I want to be able to blame you for that, and I can’t,” she admitted. If nothing else, seeing Dev again had made her grow up a little bit more. She’d pretended he didn’t exist for too long. “We were both so stubborn. But I was too afraid to see you, to talk to you.”
“Why?”
He raised his eyebrows as he asked the question, his gaze probing hers.
“Because I was afraid of my own weakness, Devin.” Even now, standing this close to him, knowing what she did, she wanted him. Even as she fought to be heard, understood, she wanted to touch him, taste him. Even more than before, knowing what he’d been through. Now she longed to touch, to marvel at every square inch of his body. Oh, it was downright foolish, but she’d never had another lover. She’d never wanted one. In her heart she’d known no one would measure up to Dev.
“I was afraid that what would happen was exactly what
did
happen.” She let a shy smile creep up her lips. “We ended up in bed.”
But instead of the teasing grin she expected, he scowled, turning his head away.
“There’s another reason why I didn’t come after you,” he muttered darkly. She stared at the stubborn jut of his chin, wondering what else she could have possibly done wrong all those years ago. Hadn’t she been punished enough?
Her temper started to get the better of her and she lifted her chin. “Please,” she said coldly, “tell me what else I did wrong. We might as well catalogue them all now and get it over with.”
He turned back to her, his blue eyes blazing icily with resentment.
“Oh, it’s not you.” The words were almost a snarl, and he took a deep breath. The exhale came on a shudder that told her exactly how upset he was.
“How could I have asked you to come back, when I knew the treatment I’d had probably made me unable to give you the children we wanted?”
Chapter Ten
Ella’s hands immediately went to her stomach, almost as a confirmation of the life that was growing within her. There wasn’t even a telltale bump beneath her fingers, or movement of any sort. But it was there, growing, changing. Dev’s child that he was afraid he could never have.
“But today…and the condom,” Ella said, confused.
“It was never a definite diagnosis,” he replied, the edges of his words sharp as glass.
Ella thought back to the night they’d shared. “And at the cabin…”
“I forgot. It’s not right, but then today when you said it wasn’t necessary, I figured you were on the pill or something anyway.” He looked away, went back to the dining table and picked up his water glass, taking a sip of the water while Ella stared after him. At this moment he was so changed from the carefree, contented boy she’d known. They’d whispered plans in the dark, not just about what they would do but dreams of having their own family. A family with a mother and a father, one where the children were wanted and nurtured and could witness what a real, healthy relationship was like. A family like she’d never had. One he’d understood she always wanted. Now they were reduced to talking about birth control and mistakes.
Her hands still cradled her stomach, protecting. She and Dev didn’t have that kind of relationship any longer. Since seeing him they’d been on opposite sides time and again. And yet, how could she keep the baby a secret? How could she let him go on believing that he couldn’t be a father, when she knew he already was to a bundle of cells they’d made together?
“Devin,” she began, unsure of what to say. This was no longer about the story. She wouldn’t turn in the article she was assigned. Any doubts she had on that score had fled. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—exploit him that way. “Devin, did the doctors specifically say you couldn’t have children?”
He put the glass down on the table and she could tell by the stubborn set of his jaw that he was beginning to isolate himself. After all that had come out tonight, it was the last thing she wanted. Things were
finally
starting to make sense. His illness had changed everything for him then and it was changing everything for her now. Her old judgments no longer held.
“They said the treatments could affect my fertility and that I could have problems fathering a child, if at all.”
“And so you gave up on us? Is this the real reason?” She took a step forward, her heart clubbing. She needed to hear his answer, craved it.
“You already had said you wanted a divorce. What did I have that could bring you back? My savings were gone, I wasn’t sure if the cancer would return and the family we wanted was a pipe dream.”
“But you never signed the papers…” She led him along with the question.
“As I said before, I wanted you to look me in the eye and ask. I didn’t want it to be easy for you. It sure as hell wasn’t easy for me.”
His brow wrinkled a bit, as if he were trying to puzzle out where she was going. Ella felt a sting behind her eyes as she took one more step, trying hard not to hope.
“And today when you ripped the papers?”
Finally, he made a move, taking a step across the carpeted floor to meet her. She watched him swallow, his Adam’s apple bobbing and his chest falling slightly as he exhaled. He lifted his hand, grazed her cheek with his thumb. “I can’t seem to stay away from you, Ell. I’m with you and I want to touch you. I’d rather argue with you than not talk at all. And I’d rather make love than argue. I agreed to come tonight because I thought you deserved to know the truth. I don’t want a divorce. But you need to know that if we try to work this out, we might never have a family.”
Ella’s nerve endings were working overtime, in tune to the sound of his voice and the light touch upon her cheek. Stay married? That was what he wanted? Impossible. Their lives weren’t even in the same city, and soon they would not even be in the same state. And yet a part of her thrilled to hear him say it. Her heart hummed with the possibility of being with him, pulsed with the knowledge that he wanted to be with her.
“Did I say I wanted to try to work things out?”
He shook his head, his gaze holding hers captive. “No. But if cancer taught me anything, it’s how to hope.”
She was defenseless against that argument. So many things were getting jumbled up. Her job, their relationship, their baby. A triangle of confusion and she wasn’t sure they could reconcile any of them.
“I came here to find a story.”
“And did you?”
She thought of Betty, and Dev, and the baby. “Not the one I thought. I won’t use your disease to further my career.” She looked into his piercing blue eyes. “I’ll find another way.”
His body was so close she knew one small move and she would be in his arms. But not yet. If she were going to do this—and she had to, or else she’d be awake all night—she had to keep her head straight. She couldn’t do that while she was in his arms. His gaze dropped to her lips and she took a step backward.
“What story did you find, Ell?”
His voice was silky-smooth, seductive, and it nearly made her body weep with want. Suddenly the knowledge that she was carrying his child was unbearably sexy—a connection tethering them together stronger than any other thread of the past. She reached out and took his hand, placed it on the soft fabric of her dress just below her waist.
“You can have children, Devin,” she murmured, feeling her heart catch. “I know because I’m carrying your child right now.”
Devin pulled his hand away as if burned. “Don’t even joke about that.” He turned his shoulder to her, feeling his insides being ripped out through his heart. “Why would you be so cruel? I opened up to you. I knew you were angry, but I didn’t think you’d use it against me.”
Ella reached out and took his arm. “God, you’re such an ass! Do you know how hard it was to say those words to you? I could never say them unless they were true. Do you know anything about me at all? Do you really think so little of me?”
He turned back, struck by the hurt ravaging her face. Her lips quivered and her eyes… Lord, her eyes. The last time he saw her look so devastated was when they’d buried her mother and she’d been left alone at the tender age of seventeen. But she couldn’t possibly mean it. There had only been this morning and that one time at the cabin…
Knowledge rammed into him like an iron fist. The weekend at the cabin had been weeks ago. Was it truly possible? Was his wife now carrying his child? He thought back to those few precious days, back further and remembered the sound of the doctor’s voice when he explained the side effects of treatment.
“That can’t be true.”
“It can and is. I am not on the pill and you didn’t ask. Neither one of us gave birth control a second thought, did we? Deplorable when you think of it in this day and age.” He saw her swallow, saw honesty in her eyes. “But it was with you, and I got caught up—”
“And I didn’t think it was really possible.” He heard her voice this very morning, when he’d said he didn’t have a condom… It didn’t matter. Not because she was protected but because she was already pregnant. Oh Lord. “You’re sure?”
“I did a test. And I saw a doctor shortly after that. We were abysmally irresponsible.”
Their marriage was an utter and complete mess. He was working close to seventy hours a week and still lived with the specter of the tumor coming back. And yet the knowledge that Ella was carrying his baby filled him with a warmth he couldn’t describe. Irresponsible be damned. It was a hell of a miracle.
He moved forward, covered her belly completely with his wide palm. “There’s no bump here yet. Doesn’t it seem impossible?”
She nodded at him, and he noticed she was blinking and swallowing at a rapid rate. “Impossible is precisely how I described it to my friend, Amy. Fortunately she has a cooler head than me. She informed me unprotected sex could indeed result in a pregnancy.”
“You’re not happy about it.” The bubble of elation burst, leaving a void in its wake.
“Oh, Devin, it’s more complicated than being happy or not. We’re a mess, you and I. And the truth is this baby shouldn’t change anything between us.”
His jaw dropped. “How can you say such a thing? It changes everything!” He gripped her upper arms. “This morning, when you felt faint…the sparkling water at dinner… I never would have guessed.” Something else glimmered on the edges of his mind. “Why did you come? Why invite me here tonight? Was it for the story or to tell me about the baby?”
She didn’t reply but stepped away from his hands, her cheeks coloring as she looked away.
Disappointment slid through his belly. He kept hoping she was the same old Ella he’d fallen in love with, but time and time again he was hit with the fact that she had goals and they consistently didn’t include him. She
was
after the story. It certainly told him where he ranked in the overall scheme of things.
“If this was about your job, then I have to ask.” Dread of her answer was heavy, but he had to know. “Were you
ever
going to tell me about the baby? Or were you going to write your feature and go on your merry way, leaving me none the wiser?”
“It’s not like that,” she said weakly, pressing her fingers to her cheeks.
“God, you were.” Devin huffed out a breath of disgust. Had he allowed himself to be played again? What in hell did she want? She claimed she wanted to be free, but she melted in his arms. She said she was after the story, but she dropped the bombshell that she was pregnant. He narrowed his eyes and watched as she crossed to her chair, picked up her water and drank. Her hand was shaking.
“I don’t know what I want anymore,” she whispered, putting down the glass and resting her hands on the edge of the table, her fingers splayed on the linen.
His mouth tasted bitter as he swallowed. “But you weren’t planning on telling me about the baby tonight.” Damn, just saying the words caused his heart to take a little leap. The baby. His baby. Their baby, for God’s sake. He’d all but given up on having children. And now here he was, with fatherhood in the future and with a woman he had loved, maybe still loved, if he could figure out exactly who she was.
“I suggest you figure out what it is you do want.” He heard the harsh words and pressed his lips together. “If you weren’t going to tell me about the baby, you must have had a plan. Let’s hear it.”
“Don’t.” Ella closed her eyes and he saw her bottom lip tremble, heard how her voice seemed to thicken with tears she seemed determined not to shed. Well, at least that was a bonus. He’d believed her tears for him earlier. He wasn’t sure he was buying this time around.
And still, he waited for her response, clenching his fingers into a fist and releasing them again.
Ella took a deep breath, trying to sort out her thoughts and feelings. Right now they were all running amok in her head and heart and were not making any sense. His simple question—what did she want—was so complicated and tangled it was impossible to answer. But she knew she had to try.
So she swallowed back the tears that seemed to sit right on the edge of her eyelids, waiting for one blink that would send them down her cheeks. She’d cried more tears over Devin in the last weeks than she had when she’d left him the first time. Now that the truth was out they had to deal with it.
“I wasn’t planning on telling you tonight, no.”
His jaw tightened and she saw his eyes light with what she could only guess was anger but somehow sharper. “But I was going to tell you Dev. Once the dust settled from this story.”
His harsh laugh cut into her as he went to the window and stared out over the deepening night. “Of course. The story first. Poor Devin. It does make good copy, doesn’t it, Ella? The poor boy with cancer who recovers, gets rich and pays it forward. Real heartstrings moments. It should sell lots of copies. I bet you’re hoping it’ll get picked up nationally, right? Then you were going to come to me and tell me about your next project.”
“I already said I wouldn’t exploit you in the story!”
He spun to face her, accusing. “And I should believe you because…you’ve been so truthful this far?”
The words stung as they lashed out at her. “I have always been truthful,” she replied, unable to fight back the heat that was rising within her as her emotions surged. They had both made mistakes. Couldn’t he see that? “I might not have done it face-to-face, but at least I told you how I felt. When I came back I told you what I wanted—a divorce. One which, I might mention, you agreed to give me and sent me back to Denver with the papers unsigned. Do you really want to talk deceit to me, Devin McQuade? You hid your illness from me, and the weekend I spent here you hid your livelihood as well. You falsely represented yourself to me, and because I waited until seeing you in person—which again, I mention as that was your main gripe last time—you are angry that the first words out of my mouth weren’t
congratulations daddy
.”
“You were too busy engineering things the way you wanted them!”
“I was doing my job! Can you say the same? And engineering… You, you are the one who has held my life hostage for over a decade with your refusal to give me a divorce.”
“I wanted you to ask me to my face.”
“Which I did,” she replied, feeling slightly sick. Her blood was pumping and she was frightened, not of him but of the intensity of their situation. This should be a happy moment, but instead it was rife with blame and hostility. “I did ask you the night of the auction. And what you’ve done is punish me, over and over again. I hope it’s been worth it.”