28. Ellie
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
ellie
“ISHOULD HAVE—”
“Please. Please don’t.”
We were in the back seat of Theo’s car again, and Sully had his hand clasped around mine.
He sat in the middle seat, his legs too long to fit.
If the circumstances were different, it might have been comical, the way he was folded up and squished in so he could sit next to me as I stared out the window.
I thought about telling him he could scoot over, that the one foot of distance wouldn’t make a difference, but I realized that might be a lie.
His body was warm against mine, and it was the only thing keeping the chill away. I hated to admit it, but I needed him this close right now, even if he was trying to silence me.
“But—” I tried.
“El, I don’t want to hear a single word out of your mouth blaming yourself,” Sully murmured in my ear as I watched pieces of Rosewood pass me by, all shrouded in a grayish morning light.
A quiet Sunday morning. Theo had picked us up from the emergency room just before dawn, but the sun was nowhere to be seen, covered by clouds and rain.
How fitting. “It’s going to fucking destroy me to hear you say anything like that. ”
He sounded so torn, so broken, like he was already destroyed. Another tear rolled down my cheek.
The very last thing in the world I wanted to do was to hurt or harm Sullivan London any more than I already had. But I was really struggling to move past what they’d said. That if maybe I hadn’t put off taking the Lovenox an extra day or two, I’d still be pregnant.
Because I wasn’t.
I wasn’t pregnant—not anymore. And maybe if I hadn’t been so fucking scared, so goddamn paranoid about taking medication that was supposed to help me, we wouldn’t be going through this.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, and Sully’s grip on my hand tightened.
Rain splashed against the window, and I watched thick droplets roll down the glass.
“Please don’t say that, either,” he said, his tone softer, matching mine.
He must be exhausted. When I’d returned from my leg ultrasound—which had thankfully been clear, along with the D-dimer, meaning no clots—he’d been pacing.
And when I searched his face, all I saw was a younger version of him, a Sully who’d burst into the emergency room in a flurry of desperate movement seven years ago.
A Sully who I was realizing had maybe never healed from that, maybe just as much as I never had.
Another reason to murmur seemingly useless apologies.
“But I am. I’m so sorry.”
Theo slowed the car to a stop, and I assumed we were home, but I was staring out at the other side of the street.
At my old house, where my mom was probably still sleeping.
My gaze flicked to my bedroom window, the one the neighbor boy used to throw pebbles at from my front yard.
The one I’d sit in and wait to see a glimpse of him through his own window across the street.
A car door creaked open, and I knew it must be Theo since my ex-boyfriend was still glued to my side, his body pressing into mine. There was a low murmur, something about going inside, and I nodded absently.
We should go inside, too, but I couldn’t get myself to move.
I never expected that the first image we’d see of our child would be our last.
I never expected to hug that image so tightly in my mind.
I never expected that after I told Sully he could come to my later doctor appointments…there wouldn’t be any.
There was just an overcrowded emergency department.
The beeping monotony of machines. The low murmur of voices that haunted me.
The echoes of footsteps on linoleum. The invasiveness of a wand and the turn of a screen as it mirrored our loss back to us.
The drop of Sully’s forehead against my shoulder as though it was too much to process. The tight clasp of his hand in mine.
And when it was just the two of us again, alone in that somewhat sterile room, there was his quiet request.
“Can I—can I touch you?”
I’d blinked up at him through my tears, followed the droop of his shoulders to his extended arm and the hand that was flat on my stomach, atop a thick hospital blanket.
Nodding, I’d wished I couldn’t see the streaks on Sully’s face as he slipped his hand beneath the covers and tugged my gown out from beneath me so he could sneak under that, too.
His fingers had crawled over my skin, warming parts of me that suddenly felt so cold, and he’d palmed my bare stomach with a reverence that cut me to my core. Because it’d felt like he was saying goodbye.
When he’d realized goose bumps covered my body, he began rubbing my skin in soothing circles, and for just a few minutes, in the dead of the night, I let myself close my eyes. Let myself sleep with his hands on me.
“I’m sorry, too,” Sully’s low voice said, pulling me back to the present, where it was still just the two of us. “I’m so sorry that you’ve had to go through this. I’m so fucking sorry that I didn’t stay yesterday morning—”
“I told you to go.”
“And I shouldn’t have listened,” he said forcefully, but I knew it wasn’t me he was mad at. “I should have stayed.”
Something about those final words put me over the edge, and a sob broke from my lips as I wrapped my arms around my middle, where pain continued to pierce through me, a physical reminder of what was happening inside of my body.
Of why it was happening. Of everything that had led to this moment, beginning years ago.
“I should have stayed, too,” I said on gasping breaths, my hands balling into fists in Sully’s old shirt that I never planned to give back. “Oh God, I should have—”
“Eleanor.”
Reaching over my lap, Sully unbuckled my seat belt, and then I was in his lap, curling into his embrace.
“I’m sorry,” I cried because I didn’t know how to stop saying it. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sor—”
“You came back,” Sully breathed, but his throat caught on the words. He lowered his head to mine as he cradled me in his arms, and I felt his tears. I felt them wet my hair, trickle from my temple, cascade down my cheek, mixing with mine. “You came back.”
“I should have—”
“No more of that, El.”
“But—”
“Not right now.” He shook his head. “Not when I just need you to know how incredible I think you are. And how sorry I am that I put you in this position where you’ve had to be so strong.”
“I’m not,” I cried, because I felt anything but that as he rocked me in his arms. I’d never felt more fragile, more breakable.
But Sully insisted.
“You are,” he rasped, breath catching again.
“So smart and beautiful and strong. And there are so many things I should have done to make sure you knew that I would have stood by you through anything, any decision your brilliant brain came to. Because, El, even though you are so fucking strong, I don’t want you to have to be.
And God, I’m so sorry we never got to a point to talk about that before.
But we’re going to. Maybe not now, not today or tomorrow.
But eventually. Right now, I’m just gonna take care of you, okay? ”
His voice cracked, and his hold on me tightened to a degree that should probably be painful but instead felt like everything I’d ever needed. His palm came to cup the side of my face, pressing me into his chest.
“I’m going to take care of you, and I’m going to keep you for as long as I can. You came back, and I’m not going to take that for granted, no matter what happens next.”
How he knew that those words were the ones I’d needed to hear more than anything, I had no idea. I’d likely never know. But it was probably just because he was Sullivan, and he was once mine, and he still knew me—knew me better than anyone.
And I—God, I loved him. I’d always loved him. I always would. And just knowing that he wanted to hold on just as tightly as I did opened a chasm of relief in my chest.
I forced myself to look at him, untucking my head to stare up at his glassy gaze and the tears streaking down his face—the desperation there. And I knew that I’d never be able to let go of him.
“Maybe we can take care of each other,” I said, a watery plea.
“I’d like that.” His eyes sparkled as he pushed the hair out of my face, picking at strands that were stuck in the wet tracks on my cheeks. “I’d like that a lot.”
“Me, too,” I whispered.
We lapsed into silence, just staring at each other. Eyes roaming faces that were so familiar but also so different. Because we’d never been here before, in the place we were now. Even though we were sitting in the same spot, between our two houses, that we had been for years.
“Hey, Sawyer?” I breathed, finally.
“Yeah?”
“Can I sleep now?”
The corner of his mouth twitched. “Of course. Let’s get you to bed.”
Unable to help myself, I brushed at his tears with my thumbs, hating to see them on his face. “Do you think that first…”
“Yeah?” he asked at my hesitation.
“Do you think I could still take you up on that bedtime story?”
A choked laugh escaped his lips.
“God, I thought you’d never ask.”
It was the first time I’d smiled in hours.
“Just a few chapters before you go,” I said.
His brows drew together as he gave me a sharp look.
“Oh, baby. You think I’m leaving?”
“I—” I floundered. Mostly because he kept calling me baby, and talking to me like he used to, touching me more like he used to, and I was so overwhelmed with everything that had happened in the last two days.
“Nah, El.” He was cupping both sides of my face with his giant palms now. “Theo went and packed me a bag earlier because I’m not fucking going anywhere. At least not until your next appointment, but preferably longer. Okay?”
I nodded, feeling speechless.
I had a follow-up on Tuesday. To do another blood test and make sure the miscarriage was progressing as expected.
Because, believe it or not, when you lose a pregnancy, everything you’ve been carrying doesn’t simply vanish.
It was as physically devastating as it was emotionally.
“If you want me to sleep on the couch, or in the bathtub, or on the goddamn porch, I will,” Sully continued.
“Whatever makes you the most comfortable, I’ll do.
I don’t give a fuck where I sleep in that house, but I’m going to be there.
I’m not leaving this time. Not when you’re like this. Not when—”
His throat seemed to close again, and then my throat was closing, and all I could do was nod until I managed to say, “You can have your bed back.”
A shuddering sigh worked through him when I didn’t argue. “No.” He shook his head. “I want you there. I’ll stay across the hall, if that’s okay.”
It was only marginally okay. Because I wanted to suggest he stay with me.
Right next to me. Under the covers with me.
Wrapped around me. I almost said it. Was seconds away from saying it, my mouth opening, ready, when Sully’s lips spread in a hint of a smile, even while his cheeks were red and tear-stained.
“It’ll be like it used to.” He curled a piece of my hair around his finger. “Sleepovers in the summer. We just swapped places.”
And because I liked the thought of that so much, and in some ways, it was more comforting than anything else, I closed my mouth and forced myself to smile back at him.
Sully encouraged me out of the car after that, leading me toward the front door but seeming unbothered by the rain pelting down on us when I walked slowly, unable to drum up any bit of urgency.
Once inside, I headed upstairs while Sully went to talk to Theo, who I could hear moving around in the kitchen.
I forced myself into the bathroom to brush my teeth and change my pad, trying to keep my head above water when I saw the reminder, the visual evidence, of what I was losing.
The movement also reignited a flair of cramps as I dragged my feet back to bed.
But before I crawled back under the covers in Sully’s childhood room, I still managed to rotate the blankets and pillows, putting my head at the foot of the bed.
There.
By the time Sully’s footsteps alerted me of his return, I was already snuggled under the blankets. He stopped by the door to his room, did a double take when he saw what I’d done, and then just stood there for a long moment.
His gaze met mine, and it was filled with so much unnamed emotion that I felt my eyes well again.
When he finally tore himself away, it was to go grab a book from the shelf in the corner of his room.
Minutes later, I closed my eyes to the sound of his deep voice.
“In a hole in the ground, there lived a hobbit.”