Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
Ana
His question made her realize she’d left only two candies in the entire bag.
“I can’t believe I just did that.”
“Opened up to me?”
The bag was so light in her hand.
“Uh, no. Ate the whole bag. Here.” Palm out, she offered him the two remaining chocolates.
He curled her fingers around the hearts and held her hand, his own so thick and strong.
“Those are yours. It’s been fun watching you eat them.”
“Fun?”
“You take great pleasure from every bite.”
“It’s true! I had no idea food could taste so good until I was pregnant. And be so important. And specific.”
“Cravings?”
She nodded, the flow of conversation between them so easy. You’d never guess that half an hour ago, he was screaming at her. That Auntie would slap him. That his whole family would watch.
If one of her patients told her a story like this, they’d devote months to unpacking and processing it.
Instead, when it happened to her, she ate chocolate.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“I know. Guilty.”
“I don’t care.”
“Don’t care that I haven’t answered, or don’t care about my answer?”
“I’m just happy to be with you, Ana. Thrilled you didn’t run away.” The way he closed his eyes and inhaled through his nose made her see his gravitas. His goodness.
And that he’d suffered from their disconnect, too.
Some part of her had clung to that hope, the hope that he really did want her, that he was confused, that he’d pursue her. In a sense, he had, researching her.
Maturity and professional training told her that such feelings were unfair to him, but that’s how feelings worked: They weren’t rational.
“I should run away. Apologize profusely and leave you alone. You have your own life here, Dennis.” A wave of sadness washed over her. “How I treated you was unforgivable.”
“Hold on there. That’s harsh.”
He was right. Why was she being so hard on herself?
Tears came then, fast and full, months of pain pouring out. He noticed, squeezing her hand, putting his arm around her, and pulling her head to his shoulder.
“Hey. Hey,” he said, helplessness in his voice, his warm skin so comforting that it made her cry more.
“Hormones,” she mumbled into his shirt, but this wasn’t just the swell of estrogen and progesterone.
Far more than that, it was five months of worry and confusion, shock and grief, all coming out as she sat on an old log in front of a steaming hot springs, the sun shining down on the man she’d given up on out of shame.
So much shame. Shame she knew better than to feel because of her training, which triggered even more shame.
“This is healthy,” she said, mostly to herself. “A normal release of emotion.”
As she sniffed, he chuckled gently.
“You don’t have to therapize yourself.”
“Therapize?”
“What do you call it when a therapist talks to herself?”
“Tuesday?”
That made him laugh harder, then tighten his grip around her shoulders. He felt so solid. So kind. So caring and so right. Why, why, why–of all times–did the mess with Harris have to happen just as Dennis came into her life?
How different everything could have been if only…
And yet, that if only was enormous. Because the reason she hadn’t replied to Dennis was that she was pregnant with another man’s baby.
A baby she viewed as something close to a miracle.
A baby who began to move inside her as the sugar rush kicked in.
Dennis’s little jolt was endearing.
“Was that–did the baby move?”
“He did. My fault.”
“Your fault?”
“Sugar rush.”
“Whoa.” He scooched away from her, though his arm still rested on her shoulders. His gaze dropped to her midsection. “Can I–may I feel him moving?”
“You mean touch my belly with your hands?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you for asking permission. Yes, of course.”
Being touched like this wasn’t unique, but being touched like this by Dennis made every cell in her body ignite. Tender and sweet, he cradled her belly like it was a small watermelon, head cocked in concentration, his eyes widening as he grinned.
“I felt him move! Is he rolling?”
“I guess? I haven’t reached the point where I can identify body parts yet, other than the head.”
“Twenty-six weeks, huh? Fourteen to go.”
The absence of his hands when he pulled away made her throat tighten. Wanting more of his touch had become a new craving. Just as she’d devoured a bag of chocolates, she wanted to lose herself in Dennis’s closeness.
But his words couldn’t go uncorrected.
“Ah, not quite. I won’t make it to full term.”
“What do you mean?”
How much to tell? No other man would get her to open up like this, but Dennis wasn’t any other man. She sensed he felt the same about her. Who forgives being ghosted and falsely accused of various and sundry scoundrelous behaviors, then buys a woman chocolate and coffee and holds her belly?
Dennis Luview. That’s who.
“I have a complication.”
“Is the baby sick?” He blinked, brow furrowed. “Or are you?”
“Not exactly.”
“Is this a private matter you don’t want to discuss? I’ll back off.”
Reading people was his superpower, wasn’t it?
Or one of them, at least. She sensed he had many.
“I don’t normally spill my guts like this with men I’ve had one-night stands with, then ghosted on, then run into on a town common where my ninety-something adopted Auntie turns into an MMA fighter.”
“Sounds like any average Wednesday in this town.”
What else could she do but laugh?
If she’d found him attractive, interesting, easy to talk to back in Boston, now she was drawn to him in ways that defied reason.
Who was she? This wasn’t typical, rational Ana.
This was a self only Dennis could unveil.
“I have a unicornuate uterus. It means it’s shaped oddly, like half a uterus. And I have only one ovary, one fallopian tube.”
His eyes bored into hers, narrowing as he took in her words.
“Which is why you kept the baby. Because your odds are so low.”
The sound of her breath, sharp as she inhaled with surprise, was like a train shooting past.
“Um–yes.”
“Which makes what he did to you all the more grossly unfair. You have to balance his assault on you with the gift it brings.”
“Good grief, Dennis, could you just pause for a second and stop being so insightful? It’s like listening to someone dissect me without anesthesia!” she hissed, feeling vivisected. This wasn’t just overwhelm making her shake.
It was as if she had nowhere to hide, because Dennis knew and saw everything about her.
“Sorry,” he muttered, looking away. “Sometimes I just can’t help it.”
Heart hammering away like a metronome gone out of control, she looked at the soothing water, willing herself to watch it.
“You see things most people don’t.”
“Not see–feel. Intuit. Gut instinct. Pick a term.”
“Funny trait for a military guy.”
“Perfect trait for the kind of work I did in the military. It’s why I didn’t come home in a body bag, like plenty of my team.”
The whirlwind speed of this conversation, with all its emotional overtones and undercurrents, was too much. Head spinning, she stood, moving slowly, the change of position making her toes tingle.
“Ana. Forgive me. I’m not being kind to you.” He stood as well, looking down at her with worried eyes as she looked up.
“I’m not someone to be pitied,” she said, her words measured and calm.
“Pity?” One cheek went up as his mouth curled in confusion, his eye narrowing. “Where the hell did you get pity out of anything we’ve just said?”
“I know what Harris did to me.”
Dennis’s face hardened, rage flashing in his eyes.
“There’s a term for it. Reproductive coercion,” she said softly.
“Sounds about right. I’d call it assault.”
“Others use the phrase reproductive rape.”
“There was no consent for pregnancy.”
“Dennis. Please. I’ve processed so much of this with my own psychologist. I don’t–I don’t need you to–”
“You’ve processed it. Good. I’m genuinely relieved and glad to hear that you have support. But this is all new to me. Seeing you, the baby, learning how the baby came about, learning how special it is for you to even be pregnant.” His smile softened. “It’s all clouding the best part.”
“What do you mean?”
“Do you know how many times I’ve imagined seeing you again?
Touching you? Kissing you? Talking and getting to know each other?
That night at the hotel was special for me, Ana.
Very special. I came home in a depressed state and left the hotel elated.
Excited about life. Eager to text you and go out on a date.
I followed that stupid three-day rule, and spent the last five months kicking myself. ”
“What?”
“When you didn’t answer, I spent every waking moment coming up with scenarios to explain why. Plenty of them involved me waiting too long to text you.”
“Oh, Dennis. I’m sorry. I’m sure none of them involved me already being pregnant with another man’s baby.”
“Got me there.”
His hands moved to her shoulders, cupping them, his touch a contrast to the tingling in her feet. Flexing her calves, she moved enough to shift weight from hip to hip, her pregnant body always needing adjustment.
“I’m a direct guy, so let me be crystal clear: I’d like to get to know you better. Spend time together. Date you. Are you interested in me?”
His last sentence floated in the air like a giant banner being dragged through the skies by an airplane.
“What?” All she could do was look up at him, squinting into the sun.
“You blew me off before, but I’m guessing that’s because you assumed I wouldn’t want to date a woman who’s pregnant with another man’s baby.”
“Yes. That’s exactly why,” she answered.
“No other reason?”
“That’s a pretty big reason.”
He moved to one side, so the sun wasn’t directly behind him.
“Is that better?” he asked.
“Thank you.” The man’s attention to detail when it came to her comfort was endearing.
“No other reason, though, for not replying to my text?” This time, the question was asked in a quieter voice, his head moving closer as he leaned down to ask.
“No. No other reason. Just my embarrassment that I was–”
Strong, callused fingers pressed her lips.