Chapter 9 Cam #2
I fucked this up so badly…
She chews on her bottom lip, watching me for a moment before she releases it. “Really. I’m…okay, Cam, just…a little rattled.”
Rattled?
I scan her face, taking in every detail of the woman I’ve fantasized about for years, searching for any signs of what might be wrong, what might be different. But other than the puffiness around her eyes and the tear stains on her cheeks, she looks okay.
Better than okay.
Fucking beautiful, like she always is.
“Why, Ivy?” I lean closer, my body naturally wanting to be near her even when things are far too complicated for that ever to happen again. “What’s going on?”
It takes so long for her to answer that I start to think she won’t, but I’m not in any position to be pushing her for anything.
Her eyes move from my face up into my hair, then down to my hands. “You were painting…”
I glance down, following her gaze, and stare at the black and white splotches covering my skin. “Um, yeah. Trying to…”
She nods, clearing her throat as her gaze finally sweeps up and meets mine. “Good. That’s…good.” Her head bobs slightly, and a tear slips down her cheek. “I—”
Whatever she was about to say gets swallowed by her sob, and she presses her hand over her mouth.
A vise tightens around my chest, and I shift closer.
Ivy pulls her shaking hand away, pressing it over her stomach. “I’m pregnant.”
My breath catches. “What?”
It echoes in my head.
Pregnant?
The entire world seems to go dark around me, and I blink to clear my vision as I try to focus on her. So much sadness seeps into Ivy’s gaze that I can physically feel it like a sledgehammer being driven straight into my heart.
I open and close my mouth, trying to form any coherent thought, but the only thing that keeps playing in my head was her saying “yes” when I asked her if I could fuck her without a condom.
Which I did.
Many times.
I assumed her acquiescence meant she was on birth control and there wasn’t any chance of this happening because I know her well enough to know she wouldn’t have intentionally gotten pregnant when—
“It’s Drew’s.”
Her words cut through the fog of confusion.
“Wh-what?”
Ivy releases a little hiccupped sob, and another tear slips down her cheek, barely contained in eyes locked on mine.
“I had no idea. I came in for my annual exam today, and they told me. You know I haven’t felt good since Drew died.
” Her voice wavers. “I couldn’t eat because I was always so nauseous and even the thought of most food made me queasy.
” A sad smile pulls at her lips. “The only reason I ate at all was because you kept making sure I always had my favorite things. I couldn’t sleep and was constantly restless and uncomfortable in that bed.
I thought it was because he was gone.” She releases a little laugh, raising her shoulders and letting them fall.
“I thought it was all just…grief. But apparently, it was also because I was pregnant.”
“But…”
She reaches under the edge of the blanket and pulls out a slip of paper. Her hand shakes as she passes me the ultrasound photo, and a little zap of electricity rolls through me when her fingers brush mine. “I’m sixteen weeks. Which means I probably got pregnant around the night Drew died.”
The world goes black again, and I squeeze my eyes shut as everything starts to spin around me.
Drew’s…
It’s Drew’s baby…
Something twists violently in my chest, and if I weren’t already sitting, I’d be flat on my ass with the way my body collapses.
I cave in on myself as each piece of the agonizing puzzle falls into place, and I force open my eyes again and stare down at the image on the piece of paper and the words typed along the edge in tiny lettering.
Gestation: 16 weeks.
A baby…
Drew’s son or daughter…
My gaze drifts over every detail of it—the delicate little hand and fingers already visible. The tiny foot sticking up. The face in profile…
A sob catches in my throat, my hand shaking so badly I’m worried I might not be able to maintain my grip on the photo.
“I didn’t even know if I could ever get pregnant…”
Her voice cracks, and I swallow thickly and glance up at Ivy.
Tears stream continuously down her cheeks now, her lips trembling along with the rest of her. “I have never had a regular cycle due to cysts on my ovaries. I’ve had some surgically removed before, and every time they take some off, it causes more scar tissue that can cause fertility issues.”
Those tiny scars I saw along her abdomen, that I so meticulously painted as part of her flash through my head, the memory of kissing them and exploring every inch of her naked body heating my skin even as my mind continues to spin and try to fully absorb everything she’s telling me.
“Drew knew, of course…” She inhales deeply, still twisting the blanket.
“We wanted a family. We didn’t want to wait until after the wedding to try since we knew it could end up being difficult.
” Her gaze cuts to mine. “We’d been trying to get pregnant for six months before he died, and it just wasn’t happening.
We knew it might be impossible, assumed it was after that long, and had kind of resigned ourselves to the fact that we might have to use a surrogate or adopt, but—” More tears trickle down her cheeks, and I have to fight the urge to reach out and wipe them away.
She releases another laugh that has no humor in it.
“But apparently, I could get pregnant the old-fashioned way, just with really, really shitty timing—”
A sob slips from her lips, and it is so filled with anguish that it sucks all the air from the room.
This is all my fault…
It falls one hundred percent on me.
Drew isn’t here for this.
He isn’t here for her and their child.
He won’t see this first photo.
He won’t be able to feel his baby kick.
He won’t hold Ivy’s hand while she gives birth.
He won’t snuggle his son or daughter in his arms and know what that kind of love feels like.
He will miss first steps and first words.
He will miss everything.
All because I wanted what wasn’t mine more than I wanted to do what was right.
Agony tears through me, the pain so intense it feels as if I’m being ripped apart. Starting in my chest and spreading outward. Searing. Burning. Stinging. My entire body shakes so badly that I have to grip the arm of the chair with my free hand to keep myself from crumpling to the floor.
Ivy sniffles, unsuccessfully fighting her tears as my own blur my vision of her. “I just…thought you should know…”
“I-I…”
Anything I try to say gets stuck in my throat, and as my gaze drifts from Ivy back to the photo of Drew’s baby, I can’t breathe.
“Cam?”
I lift my head to meet her worried eyes.
Ivy frowns, her brows furrowing. “I don’t want you to think I’m telling you because this changes anything…
” Her lips press together firmly, as if she’s fighting to stop herself from saying something.
“I’m just so fucking angry.” She sobs, slapping her hand over her mouth as tears flow freely again.
“I hate you so damn much for everything you caused, and now this…”
It’s too much.
Too much pain.
Too many unintended consequences…
She shakes her head. “So, I don’t know why I asked Nancy to get you here. I guess because I don’t want this baby to lose his or her uncle when its father is already gone, and the last time I saw you…”
Her words trail off as I force myself to inhale through the crushing weight in my chest.
The last time she saw me, I was a fucking wreck.
Completely unable to cope with the guilt and shame that overwhelmed me.
And truth be told, I’m not much better today than I was that night.
But now that Ivy has seen me like that, that’s all she’ll ever see.
She won’t see the man who has held her and made love to her.
She won’t see the man she said helped her survive during those weeks we spent together mourning Drew.
She won’t see anything but the addict who was ready to shove a needle into his vein to make it all stop…
and who killed the man she loved, the father of her child.
Ivy reaches out and takes the ultrasound photo from me.
“You seemed ready to jump off a cliff with no parachute, and I thought…maybe this”—she trails her fingers across the image—“would be your reason never to try that again. Maybe knowing you have a niece or nephew coming will be your parachute if you ever feel like you’re falling again. ”
A tear slips from my eye, leaving a hot trail down my cheek. I reach up and wipe it away, my heart shattering at the intensity of her words and the emotion behind them.
Because she still cares.
Even after everything that’s happened, everything I’ve done, she still doesn’t want me to do something I can’t take back, despite her having every right to.
“Does this mean…” I swallow the hope that starts to swell inside me, because I’m pretty sure I know what her answer’s going to be. “Does this mean you’re going to let me be in this baby’s life?”
Because God knows I won’t be part of hers otherwise.
And selfishly, I want that, too.
I want her, too.
Any way I can have her.
She glances down at her stomach, resting her hands over it protectively, like she already needs to defend her unborn child against the chaos I’ve brought to her life and the misery I’ve caused.
“I don’t know, Cam. I just…knew I needed to tell you.
” Her eyes clench closed, and she releases a shaky breath.
“I can’t think about that right now, can’t think about anything.
I’m still just trying to process all of this without completely losing my grip. ”
Her voice cracks, and with it, so does my ability to keep my emotions in check.
I push up from my chair, shoving my hands through my hair and scanning over her, taking in every detail in case I never see her again.
There’s so much more I want to say. So many things I can’t put into words as I stare down at her and the ultimate result of my actions still clutched in her hand.
The night I caused Drew’s death, they finally got everything they ever wanted…
Their miracle…
And he’s not going to be here to see it.
The only thing that keeps me upright and prevents me from crumpling to the floor is not wanting Ivy to see me like that. Not wanting her to know the depths of my grief and guilt or how completely unsteady I am. Not wanting her to see me so unhinged that she continues to worry about me.
She’s already seen where it’s driven me and how bad it can get…
I swallow through another sob, finally forcing myself to say something. “I’m…really happy for you…that you have this piece of him.”
And I truly mean it.
Ivy deserves all the happiness in the world.
And maybe…
Somehow…
This baby is the miracle meant to bring that to her.
Before my voice can crack and give away how close I am to completely losing it, I turn and stalk from the room, tugging the door closed behind me without looking back at her. Because if I did, I wouldn’t be able to walk away.
I drop my head against the door, squeezing my eyes closed as I take several deep, long breaths in the hallway.
“I hate you so damn much for everything you’ve caused…”
Her words repeat in my head.
Over and over and over.
But I can’t blame her for throwing that at me.
Not now that the true cost is right there in black and white on that ultrasound photo.