“I know,” I whisper, my throat thick. “I know that. I knew that. That was why it just didn’t make sense to call you, but I wanted to. You were the only person who it might matter to like it did me. I didn’t tell anyone.”
“But Isaac knows because he was there when it happened,” he confirms.
“Yes.”
“Tell me,” he urges again, a gentle but forceful push to his voice. “I wasn’t there then. Let me be here for you now.” He hesitates. “If you can.”
I swallow hard. “Yes. I can. You deserve to hear the story, but I want you to know that I was going to tell you. I almost told you back at my house, in my bedroom when we were—when you thought something was wrong—”
“The condom,” he supplies, following my lead. “You were thinking about this when I was putting on the condom.”
I nod. “Yes, then, and several times that night. God, how I wanted to just tell you, but we kept having visitors and problems come up. I couldn’t find just one good moment alone with you that felt like the right time to talk about this.”
“I’m here now. We’re here now.”
It’s another prod and I don’t make him push me harder. “I didn’t know I was pregnant. Honestly, I didn’t even suspect it. I was late starting my period, but I’ve had that happen on occasion and I was working long and hard hours.”
“You didn’t have morning sickness?” he asks.
“Yes, but I didn’t know it was morning sickness. I was barely sleeping. I had no reason to suspect I was pregnant. I thought I was just pushing myself too hard. We didn’t finish what we started that night. I didn’t think I could be pregnant.” My lips purse. “Of course, I found out in a brutal way how wrong I was on that.” I squeeze my eyes shut and when his fingers brush my cheek, I look at him. “I was cramping, so I thought I was finally going to start my period.”
Suddenly I’m back in the past, back in my office, and reliving that night all over again in vivid color.
“I was sitting at my desk, sorting through a stack of files and I couldn’t find the one that I needed. Frustrated that I couldn’t finish my report without it and finally get out of there, I knew I had to hunt it down or miss the critical deadline for the production department. I stood up and rounded my desk when a punch of cramps hit my belly. I slouched forward as another punch hit me and then radiated through my womb.” I close my eyes and for a moment I’m there. “Oh god,” I whisper, just like I did that night.
Eric’s hand comes down on my hand and he squeezes. “We don’t have to do this.”
“We do,” I say firmly, refocusing on him. “We do.” I launch back into the story. “I tried to move, but my feet were heavy, like they were planted in the ground. I looked down and blood was seeping through the skirt of my cream-colored dress. I just stared down at it as if it wasn’t real, as if it was happening to someone else but then the cramps radiated through me again. I tried to get to my desk and my phone, but I couldn’t. The pain was extreme, and the blood just started pouring like a faucet. It scared me and I started screaming for help.”
“And Isaac came to help.”
“There was no one else in the building but Isaac, and there’s nothing between me and him. There never has been. I wasn’t lying about that. I haven’t lied to you.” Now I’m the one squeezing his hand. “Please tell me you know that.”
“I know that,” he says.
My mind goes back to us outside of the Kingston building, and him pretty much telling me to go to hell before he left. “You didn’t know earlier tonight.”
“I did know,” he promises. “That’s why I came back. I did know. I told you. I let Isaac fuck with my head.” He cups my face. “We would have made a beautiful baby together.”
Tears well in my eyes. “We would have, wouldn’t we?”
“Yes. We would have. We still could.”
I blanch. “What?”
“I’m only saying, just because you lost that pregnancy doesn’t mean you can’t carry a baby. It wasn’t our time.”
“Do you want kids?”
“I didn’t. I don’t know, Harper. You’ve made me think about a lot of things in my life.”
“I don’t know if I even can. They said I had a problem with my uterus.”
“Don’t put that pressure on yourself or us. If you can’t, you can’t.’
“Yes, but—”
He leans in and kisses me. “If you can’t, you can’t. I want you, Harper. Just you. Like I have never wanted anyone.” His lips close down on mine, and then his tongue does that deep sultry dance it does, and I feel each stroke everywhere. My nipples ache. My sex clenches. My entire body is humming and he’s done nothing but kiss me. Some part of me knows I need to talk to him about what happened in Denver. Some part of me knows we need to talk about what he believes his brother is really doing. Some part of me knows that if someone tried to kill me tonight, they will follow me to New York City, but right now, I just want him to keep kissing me. I just want him to drug me the way he drugs me with his touch, and when he unhooks his seatbelt and mine as well, I let him pull me into his lap.