He stiffened. Slowly turned around. Shock widened his eyes and he staggered over to the couch to grasp the edge. “What did you say?” he whispered.

The naked vulnerability and wild hope on his face sliced at her flesh like knives. “I never wanted you to know,” she whispered. “Not when it was too late.”

His olive skin turned bone white as he processed her response. “Tell me. Everything.”

Miranda gave a jerky nod. Her skin grew clammy and cold, and her stomach churned. Maybe he’d finally understand why she’d never be the woman he walked away from.

She recited the story with no emotion, as if relaying someone else’s experience. “After you left me, I got sick. I went to the doctor and he told me I was pregnant.”

“You were on the pill.”

“Yes, but remember when I got food poisoning on those oysters? I threw up for almost three days. I never thought I wouldn’t be protected, just kept continuing to take my pill. But I was stupid, so stupid, and I paid for that mistake.”

“Did you plan on telling me?”

She lifted her chin. “No. That was the day I got your email.” A bitter laugh escaped her lips. “Obviously, you weren’t ready to be a daddy, let alone have a committed relationship. I decided to keep the baby and do it myself.”

He rubbed his eyes with his knuckles, as if trying to wake up from a bad dream. “What happened to the baby, Miranda?”

She finished the story dry-eyed. “I kept my pregnancy a secret and planned. I figured I’d work mostly from home and we’d be fine.”

He choked and murmured something under his breath but she pushed on.

“I was twelve weeks when I miscarried. I was waiting to get to that mark, you see, because all the books say you have the biggest chance of miscarriage within the first twelve weeks. I almost made it. But I started bleeding heavily in the middle of the night, and I didn’t know what to do. I called 911 and they rushed me to the hospital. I lost the baby a few hours later.”

She stared sightlessly past him, seeing the pale green hospital walls, the scurry of nurses back and forth, the soft voice of the therapist lecturing her about grief and postpartum. She remembered leaving without her baby. Without anything but a cold, empty space she knew would never be filled again.

The silence pulsed with unspoken demons and broken promises. “Now you know why I don’t want children. I never want that type of grief again. If you want to punish me for my lack of bravery, go ahead. But you’re not the one who had to do it all alone.”

His shattered expression punched through her chest and squeezed her heart. He moved toward her and then she was in his arms. His grip was so tight it became almost painful, but she hung on to his warmth in a desperate attempt to save the last of her soul. They clung to one another for endless minutes, and for the first time, some of the aching loneliness seeped away in his embrace.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, baby.” He kissed her temple, stroked her hair, rocking her gently. “I didn’t know. Jesus, please forgive me, I didn’t know.”

She let him hold her until the last of the anger dissipated. He was finally here, back in her arms. All of those fantasies night after night of him coming back and stating he made a terrible mistake finally came true.

When he released her, tear tracks streaked his cheeks. She wiped them away with her fingers, but when he looked into her eyes, a cold, hard ball of lead settled in the pit of her stomach. She glimpsed grief. Pain. Regret.

The worst was the grim resolution on his face.

“I understand now,” he said.

Panic nipped at her and she suddenly realized her confession had broken something fragile between them.

“No wonder you’ve changed. I left you all alone to deal with a baby, and treated you like someone disposable.” A choking sound came from his throat. “All this time I thought you were too afraid to open yourself up. But how could you ever trust me again? I abandoned you.”

She stepped toward him. “No, Gavin, it’s not like that.” Self-disgust curled his sensual lips. She watched as her lover drifted further away, caught up in a raw guilt she didn’t know how to heal. “Please listen to me. I don’t blame you anymore. It was my choice not to track you down. My choice to keep the baby and do it alone. I never gave you an opportunity to take any action, and that’s not your fault.”

He shook his head. “I didn’t give you a chance to tell me. I only cared about myself. My dreams. I walked away from something good and pure. I thought I could win you back. Prove myself. Instead, I dredged up the past and hurt you even more. I’m so stupid.” Moisture shown in his eyes and he blinked it away. “I was sure I’d convince you to go with me. I had this fucking happy-ever-after ending in my head, where I tell you I love you, and you jump on the plane.”

He loved her. Did she believe it was enough this time? Why was the image of following him suddenly so vivid? Why did it fill her up with raw need instead of scorn? Reality twisted before her until she didn’t know her true North anymore.

A dozen responses stuck in her throat. Her feet froze to the floor.

He drew himself up to full height. Determination and resolve flickered in those aqua blue eyes. Her heart thrummed madly in her chest.

“I don’t know if I can ever forgive myself for what I did to you. God knows, I understand why you can’t. But I love you. I will do anything you need to prove myself and make up for the past. I won’t leave you again.”

Her palms grew damp. The breath came choppy from her throat. “You only have a few weeks left.”

“I’ll stay.”

The words tore her flesh like bullets. She squeezed her eyes shut in pure agony. He’d stay. For her. But at what sacrifice? So he could resent her forever for not going after his real dream? For trapping him into a relationship because of his guilt over the baby? No, not like this. “I don’t want you to stay,” she forced out.

“Then I’ll take you with me. We’ll work it out. All you have to do is take a leap of faith. I swear to God, Miranda, I’ll never give you another reason to distrust me again.”

Silence fell. He waited for her answer and she clenched her fingers into fists. She was close. So close to jumping in his arms and taking another chance. They’d make the relationship work somehow. He wouldn’t hurt her again. Wouldn’t leave her behind.

Her mother left for the bottle.

Gavin left for his career.

Eventually, didn’t everyone leave her behind? And what type of life could they possibly have together? Days spent alone in some strange hotel overseas. Waiting for him to get home and entertain her. Waiting for the day he realized it wasn’t going to work and left her again.

No. She wasn’t ready to trust him with her soul.

Maybe she’d never be able to get there again.

Her lack of response gave him the answer. He pushed his hands through his hair and bowed his head. “You’re never going to trust me again, are you?”

Her eyes remained mercilessly dry, though the tears wept for release. “I’m so sorry, Gavin. I can’t do this.”

Emotion ravaged his face. Slowly, he nodded and fumbled for the door. “I’ll let you go. I can’t fight for both of us, not if you don’t want to try. And I’m sorry, too. For everything.”

He shut the door behind him.

Miranda stood alone in the living room, in silence. Alone. She slumped down to the ground as her muscles lost all their function and buried her face in her hands. For the first time in years, she let herself feel the storm of emotions wreck her. This time, she surrendered. She cried nonstop—for herself, for Gavin, and for what could have been.

…

The knock on the door barely registered, so she ignored it. Miranda snuggled under her blanket and stared sightlessly at the television. Since most of the soap operas had been canceled, her choices were weepy Lifetime movies or talk shows. A reality star celebrity chirpily chatted about the latest gossip so she decided to take a nap. Again.

The pounding grew louder. She groaned and raised her head. “Go away!”

“Miranda, open the door. Now.”

She cursed under her breath, yanked the blanket away, and stumbled to the door. “I’m sick, Andy. You shouldn’t come in.”

“Open the door.”

She released the chain and let him in. His eyes widened when he caught sight of her appearance. She wondered briefly how bad it had gotten. Pretty bad, if the look on his face was any indication. Miranda ignored it and climbed back to her new home on the couch.

“What the hell is going on? You won’t answer your cell, you haven’t been to work, and you look like something that crawled out of the swamp.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere.”

“Ah, geez, and you smell.” He glanced around the cluttered apartment, where the remote lay amidst empty bags of potato chips, half eaten Ben & Jerry’s ice cream pints, and an array of wine bottles. “Gross, you’ve been on the break-up diet. What happened with Gavin? I can’t believe you didn’t call me.”

She let out a humorless laugh. “I told him the truth. And he did the honorable thing, of course. He left me. Again.”

Andy crinkled his brow. “Back up. You’re gonna have to fill me in.”

Odd, now the secret she’d lived with for so long felt natural to share. “Three years ago, after he left me, I found out I was pregnant.”

“Holy shit.” He sat down on the edge of the chair. “Tell me everything.”

She did. The story spilled out, and another scab formed over the wound. Funny, she’d never thought sharing her hurt could help her heal, but she felt freer than ever before. He listened, sometimes wincing, but completely supportive and open.