Chapter 13 Amelia #2
I barely taste the food. I sip champagne—half a glass won’t harm the baby, Orla says. I smile in all the right places and talk about a future that I know I don’t deserve. Declan asks if I’m okay, and I tell him that it’s hormones, that it will pass when I reach the second trimester.
And on our wedding night, he undresses me, and studies me with such reverence, that I almost blurt it out right there in his bed. My orgasms come with tears. Declan kisses them and loves me gently, attentively, reminding me on repeat that it is ‘my night’.
I sleep badly, tossing and turning, staring wide-eyed at my wedding ring and the heart-shaped diamond, and feeling the rise and fall of his chest beneath my cheek.
When morning comes with rain that lashes the windows, and wind that throws fallen leaves and twigs at the house as if trying to break in, my eyelids are heavy. I don’t need to look at my reflection to know that the delicate skin underneath them is dark and puffy.
“Good morning, Mrs. Byrne.”
Declan props himself on one elbow and kisses me on the lips. His smile fades though when he sees the tiredness in my eyes.
“What’s wrong, Amelia? Is it the baby?”
I shake my head. “I didn’t sleep well.” I swallow and turn away, unable to look him in the eye.
He loves me, I remind myself. He married me because we’re in love, we’re happy, he wants us to have a future together. Not because I’m carrying his child.
So, why do I feel like such a fraud?
“Hey…” He takes my chin between his thumb and forefinger and turns my face towards him. “Talk to me, baby. How can I make it better if I don’t know what’s wrong?”
He smiles, and more tears fill my eyes. I feel like a walking, talking tear-making-machine these days. My head aches with the pressure of all the tears still left unshed inside me.
“We’re a team now, remember?” The love in his eyes is unmistakable. He would give me the world if it were his to give, and I’ve repaid him with lies and secrets. “You never have to do anything alone again. I’m here for you, no matter what, my sweet Amelia.”
I feel like I’ll choke if I don’t get it out of me, this secret that’s eating me up inside. It’s no good for the baby either. All this stress and tension when there’s so much happiness and joy within touching distance.
“I love you, Declan.” It spills from the heart. “I want you to know that I loved you from the first moment we met.”
The gleam in his eyes when he looks at me stabs me straight through the heart. “I know, baby. And I’ll never stop pinching myself that you’re mine. How did I get so lucky?”
My lips curve into a half-smile that doesn’t go anywhere.
“I need to tell you something. I’ve been trying to tell you since…” I suck in a deep breath; it does nothing to regulate my pulse. “…since the day of Ruairi’s funeral.”
“I’m listening.” His tone is serious.
He winds a lock of my hair around his finger, waiting for the conversation to be over so that he can spend the first day of married life spoiling me as promised.
“I met Ruairi in New York a few days before I left.”
He blinks, processing the information.
I continue before he can interrupt. “He said his name was Ryan Connor. He came into the nightclub where I was working and ordered a drink. We got talking, and…”
The way he’s watching me isn’t making this any easier.
“I swear I never knew that he was your son, until Eoghan showed me a photograph. I should’ve told you then, I wanted to, but you were grieving, and it didn’t feel right.”
“You met Ruairi.” It isn’t a question; he’s trying it on for size and seeing how it fits with what he already knows about me. “And you didn’t think to tell me.” His eyes harden. “Why not, Amelia? Why was it so difficult for you to tell me?”
“Because…”
Oh, Jesus fucking Christ, I wish that I could turn back time and walk away from Ruairi when he orders a drink without saying please.
I wish that I could go straight home when my shift finishes, climb into bed, and forget all about the sexy Irish accent.
I wish that the condom hadn’t split, and my birth control had worked, and I’d allowed Declan to terminate my contract when he realized that he had feelings for me.
But real life is never that easy, and the York women own their mistakes, pick themselves up, and get on with it.
“Because I went back to Ruairi’s hotel room,” I whisper like a coward. “We…” I can’t say it.
“You what, Amelia?” His voice is so cold I shudder. “What happened when you went back to my son’s hotel room?”
“We… We had sex.”
He rolls away and sits on the edge of the bed with his back to me. His shoulders are hunched. I can count the bumps and ridges of his spine, but I can’t touch him through the anger and disappointment emanating from him.
The moments stretch on endlessly. I’m afraid to disturb him, but at the same time, I want to get up, get dressed, and get out of this house. I don’t know where I’ll go. I’ll just keep on walking until my legs stop working. Maybe then, this will all look different.
I know what he’s going to say even before the question hangs in the air.
“What about the baby, Amelia?” He pauses, finding the strength to finish. “Is this baby even mine?”
“I-I don’t know. The condom Ruairi used split. I was taking birth control, but I’d had food poisoning, and I guess it failed.”
He stands up so abruptly, the bed shakes. He drags on yesterday’s clothes without looking at me and crosses the room to the door.
“I guess it did.”
His eyes graze mine, but they’re cold. He doesn’t even look like the man I fell in love with, the man who, until thirty minutes ago, had me wrapped in his warm arms. The man who promised to love and protect me, no matter what.
“Where are you going?” I ask.
“Out.”
He closes the door softly behind him as he leaves.