CHAPTER TWO
Alex
The Belmont Hotel had nearly broken Alex Kane twice. The first time had been six years earlier, when a private equity group bought the neglected landmark and asked Kane Hill to restore it without turning it into a polished imitation of itself.
The second came during construction, when they discovered structural damage behind a wall that hadn't been properly inspected since the seventies. Alex had spent eighteen months persuading investors that historic craftsmanship and profit didn't have to be mortal enemies.
Now he stood beneath the restored ceiling of the grand lobby and watched sunlight move across gold leaf that had taken four artisans eleven weeks to repair by hand. He should have felt satisfied. Instead he checked his phone.
Nothing from Jessica.
“You know the ceiling won’t collapse because you stop staring at it.”
Graham Hill walked toward him carrying two coffees.
Alex took one.
“I’m admiring our work.”
“You’re checking your phone.”
“I can do two things.”
“Your wife okay?”
Alex glanced at the screen again.
“She’s fine.”
The answer came automatically.
Graham lifted one eyebrow.
“You said that like you were trying to convince yourself.”
“She had an appointment yesterday.”
“And?”
“Jackson wants her monitoring her blood pressure.”
Graham waited.
Alex hated when he did that.
“No emergency,” Alex added. “More rest.”
“Then why aren’t you home?”
“Because Jessica isn’t bedridden.”
“That wasn’t what I asked.”
Alex drank his coffee.
Graham had known him for over a decade. They had been graduate students together, then junior architects at a firm that treated sleep like moral weakness, then reckless enough to open Kane Hill with two laptops, one assistant, and more debt than either admitted to their families.
Graham knew every version of him, unfortunately.
“The Ashford committee arrives at noon,” Alex said.
“They’ve seen the hotel.”
“They haven’t seen the revised preservation presentation.”
“I have.”
Alex gave him a look.
Graham grinned.
“Go home at a human hour today.”
“My hours are human.”
“You sent me an email at one forty this morning.”
“I was home.”
“That is technically true and spiritually fraudulent.”
Alex ignored him. His phone vibrated. It was Jessica.He answered immediately.
“Hey.”
“Do you have a minute?”
There was something in her voice. Not fear exactly. Uncertainty.
“Yes. What’s wrong?”
“My machine is being weird.”
“What machine?”
“The blood-pressure monitor.”
Alex turned away from Graham.
“What’s it doing?”
“The first reading was high. The second was different. Now it keeps giving me an error.”
“What were the numbers?”
She told him.
Alex frowned. “Sit down for five minutes.”
“I am sitting.”
“Feet flat on the floor?”
“Alex.”
“I’m trying to figure out if the machine is giving you garbage readings.” He said the tiniest hint of irritation creeping int his voice.
“I know.” She said quietly apologetic.
“I’m sorry. Ther’s just a lot going on right now.”
“I might call Dr. Jackson.”
“Then call her.”
Silence. Alex watched a hotel employee adjust flowers across the lobby.
“Jessi?”
“I’m here.”
“Do whatever makes you feel better.”
“I will.”
“Do you want me to come home?”
Again, silence.
Then, “No, you’re busy.”
He should have questioned that answer. He accepted it. That would matter later.
“Okay. Call Jackson. Text me after.”
“I will.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
He ended the call and found Graham watching him.
“What?”
“Go home.”
“She said she doesn’t need me.”
“Did she?”
Alex frowned.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means your wife called because her blood-pressure machine made her nervous.”
“I told her to call the doctor.”
“You also told her how to position her feet.”
“That affects the reading.”
“I’m sure it does.”
Alex’s irritation rose.
“She does not need me sitting beside her watching a blood-pressure cuff.”
Graham’s expression changed slightly.
“Did she say that?”
Alex looked at him.
Graham took another drink of coffee.
“Thought so.”
He walked away. Alex stared after him. Then his phone vibrated.
A text from Jessica.
Jackson says rest, hydrate, retake in an hour.
Alex read the message twice. Relief moved through him. He hated how strong the feeling was.
At seven that evening, Alex entered the apartment carrying Thai food Jessica hadn’t requested. The lights were low. He found her asleep on the sofa beneath a blanket, one bare foot resting on a cushion because her ankles had swollen. The blood-pressure cuff sat on the coffee table.
Alex stopped. She looked small. That thought made less sense every week.
Jessica had always been petite, but pregnancy had changed the proportions of her body.
Her belly rounded beneath the blanket. Her face looked softer.
Tired. The apartment felt too quiet. Alex set the food down and crouched beside her.
He touched two fingers to her wrist before realizing what he was doing.
Checking. As if he could learn anything meaningful from the pulse beneath her skin.
Jessica stirred. Her eyes opened. “You’re home.”
“You sound surprised.”
“I was considering changing the locks.”
“Reasonable.” He laughed.
She shifted and winced.
Alex’s attention sharpened.
“What?”
“My back.”
“Pain?”
“No. Pregnancy.”
He relaxed.
Jessica saw it.
Something in her expression bothered him.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Jessi.”
“You always look relieved when the answer is pregnancy.”
“Because pregnancy is not an emergency.”
She turned her face toward the sofa cushion.
Alex heard himself. He sat back.
“That came out wrong.”
“Yeah.”
“I mean the ordinary miserable parts.”
“Very romantic.”
“I brought food.”
“That is actually romantic.” She smiled. Forgiveness.
He smiled despite the unease in his chest.
“Have you eaten?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
“Cereal.”
“At seven at night?”
“It was delicious. Very complex.”
“You need actual food.”
“I need everyone to stop telling me what I need.”
Alex looked at her.
Jessica closed her eyes.
“Sorry.”
“No.”
He stood.
“I’m the one hovering.”
“Sometimes.”
“Frequently?”
She opened one eye.
“Do not turn this into a performance review.”
He laughed. The sound loosened something in the room. Alex sat beside her and lifted the blanket.
“What are you doing?”
“Checking on my daughter.”
“She’s charging admission.”
“I pay the mortgage.”
“Then you can afford it.”
He placed one hand across Jessica’s belly.
Nothing.
“Sophia.”
Jessica smiled.
“She’s ignoring you.”
“I see where she gets it.”
A movement pushed against his palm. Alex’s chest tightened.
Every time. It happened every damn time.
He could walk through a building with steel beams hanging overhead and calculate loads without a tremor of uncertainty.
Then something no larger than a foot pressed against his hand from inside his wife’s body and the whole world became impossible.
“She kicked.”
“I know. I’m there for most of them.”
Another push.
Alex bent closer.
“Hi.”
Jessica watched him.
His gaze remained fixed on her stomach. He didn't want her to see what was happening inside him.The miscarriage lived much closer to the surface than he admitted.
He remembered the bathroom. Jessica doubled over.
Blood.Her saying his name. The uselessness of his hands.He had held her while there wasn'thing he could do.
Nothing. The next morning he had gone to work.
A meeting. Some presentation he could no longer remember.
Jessica had told everyone it was important.
At the time, Alex had been grateful. Now he wondered why neither of them had ever spoken about it.
“You’re somewhere else.”
Her voice pulled him back.He looked up.
“No.”
“You were.”
Alex wanted to tell her. He wanted to say that every headache made him remember blood. Every time she said she felt wrong, his mind went to the worst place before he dragged it back. He wanted to admit he was terrified. Instead he smiled.
“I was thinking Sophia has excellent timing.”
Jessica watched him for another second. Then she looked away. Alex’s hand remained on her belly. Something important had passed between them. He knew it. He also knew he had let it go.
Later, after dinner, Jessica stood at the bathroom mirror rubbing moisturizer into her stomach. Alex leaned in the doorway.The apartment was quiet again, but differently this time. She caught his reflection.
“You’re staring.”
“I’m allowed.”
“Are you?” She teased.
“Pretty sure the marriage license covers it.”
She smiled faintly. Alex crossed the room.He stood behind her and rested his hands on her hips. Jessica leaned back against him. The intimacy of it almost hurt. He kissed her temple.
Her eyes closed. “I miss you.”
Alex’s arms tightened slightly.
“I’m right here.”
Jessica opened her eyes. Their gazes met in the mirror. The disappointment in hers was so quick he almost convinced himself he had imagined it.
“Jessi.”
“I’m tired.”
He turned her gently.“What did you mean?”
“Nothing.”
“You said you miss me.”
“I do.”
“I’m here.”
She looked at him for a long time.“I know.”
Alex should have asked another question. Instead he kissed her forehead.“Come to bed.”
She nodded. The moment closed. He didn't understand that being physically present had become the smallest thing she needed from him.