Kyle finished his beer in one swig. “Christ. I hadn’t thought of that. Thanks a lot.”
“Sorry.” Luc winced. “I’m sure it’s not the case. But you need to talk to Annie to get to the bottom of it.”
Kyle compressed his lips. “There is no ‘bottom’ of it. It’s not a mystery to solve. I’ve got the bill. It’s done.”
“So what are you going to do?” Luc prompted sceptically.
Kyle stood up and threw some bank notes down on the table. “I’ve got absolutely no damn idea.”
It snowed the whole way back to his apartment. He’d stared broodingly at the swirling weather, the letter burning from its niche in his breast pocket to the skin beneath.
So she’d left him, and shortly after had undergone an abortion. Why? Had it been to spite him? Or because she couldn’t bear the thought of having a child with him? Had she thought of calling him? Or had she truly believed she could divorce him and he’d never discover the truth? If her stupid brother hadn’t indulged his penchant for kleptomania, would he have ever found this out?
His fingers curled into fists by his side as he exited the Jaguar and stalked into the foyer of his building.
Had she mourned their child? Or been relieved to terminate her pregnancy and bring finality to their union?
I’m not going to risk getting pregnant.
She’d thrown it in his face in Aspen and he hadn’t listened to his instincts. He hadn’t listened to the voice in his mind that had told him it was a strange declaration.
She hadn’t said the more simple: I’m not ready for a baby. Or, I don’t think we’re ready to have a child together.
Instead it had been a panicked declarative. I’m not going to risk getting pregnant.
His gut twisted painfully as he stepped out of the lift and prowled into their home.
Annie was sitting as he’d imagined she would be, curled up in the window seat and staring out at the street below.
A thousand thoughts flashed into his mind. Accusations and epithets, words that were almost too cruel to speak. Out of nowhere he had the blinding image of what their child might have looked like and nausea rolled through him.
How had she done it? And why?
“Hi,” she looked in his general direction with a weak smile on her face then returned her gaze to the view of the street.
He couldn’t even bring himself to respond to the simple greeting. “Annie …” Her name was a precursor for a sentence he couldn’t frame. She lifted her head back to his, her eyes enormous pools of inquiry in her face. “I saw Juanita today,” he finished softly, but the quietness of his words hid a slow-burning anger that threatened to consume him.
“Oh?” She pushed her legs off the banquette seat so that she was facing him properly. “Is she okay?”
A muscle jerked in his jaw. Annie’s eyes fell to it instinctively. He was so beautiful, it pained her not to walk to him and throw her arms around him. To kiss those lips and inhale his masculine scent. But they had an unspoken agreement, and she was determined to keep to her side of it.
Nights equalled sex. Days equalled distance.
“Fine,” he said after such a long pause that it took Annie a moment to recall what she’d asked.
“She gave me something for you. From the hospital. A bill.”
The colour drained from her face. Her body flashed hot and cold, as though she had a sudden fever. “That’s strange,” she said warily.
“It was a bill for an abortion,” he said darkly, his voice deep and husky. His eyes were barbed with emotion now and Annie understood, because she knew him, how difficult he was finding it to keep a grip on his temper.
“I see,” she murmured.
“You had an abortion. You were pregnant.”
Her whole body was shaking. She pressed her hands into her stomach on instinct, the painful memories threatening to suck her back with them.
“How the hell could you do this?” He shouted, before she’d had a chance to respond. “Of all the cold, callous things, I never expected you capable of this!”
“Kyle.” Her voice throbbed with feeling. “Let me explain …”
“Explain what? That you were pregnant and didn’t tell me? That you were pregnant and decided that instead of having a baby with me you’d prefer to have an abortion? My God, Annie, if I hadn’t seen the bill for myself I wouldn’t believe this possible. That you’re capable of this …”
“I don’t understand why she even had a bill. And why she gave it to you,” Annie stuttered, knowing even as she said it that these thoughts were the last things that mattered.
“Of course your first concern is to why your lie was uncovered.” He stepped closer to her, his expression like thunderclouds and tidal waves. “You’re so much more like Adam than I ever understood. I don’t think the two of you have an honest bone in your bodies.”
“Kyle,” she said loudly, beseechingly. “Just listen.”
“No, Annie.” He squared his shoulders and stared down his nose at her. “You’ve had so many chances to explain, and now that you’ve been discovered, that explanation no longer has any merit.” How could he sound so calm when he was being ripped to shreds by the intensity of his feelings?
“I want you to get out of my house.” His eyes narrowed as he dragged them from the tip of her head to her petite, bare feet. “Get out, and wait for my lawyer to be in touch.”
Her shaking was uncontrollable now. “No,” she said, shaking her head, her expression anguished.
“Yes,” he contradicted, stalking through the apartment and grabbing a coat and pair of boots from their bedroom. He threw them at her feet and spun away.
“Get out,” he said as he walked from the room.
“Kyle,” she ran after him, reaching for his arm.
But he ripped it out of her grip as though she’d tried to pour flame over him. “Do not touch me. Don’t you dare.” He closed his eyes for a second, and when he opened them, the cold hatred was back. “That was our baby. Ours. You should have told me.”
“I can explain…”
“No.” He swallowed back bitterness. “There is no explanation you could give me that I would want to hear. Get out.”
“Kyle,” she sobbed, and reached for his arm again. “Please.”
“Please what?” He demanded. “How could you do this? How could you sleep with me night after night knowing how this would change things?”
“I didn’t have an abortion,” she blurted. If she’d had more time she might have tried to frame the sentence better. Only everything he said showed her how close they were to the precipice of their relationship and Annie knew only one thing for absolute certain: She couldn’t lose him. Not again.
“This would beg to differ,” he roared through the apartment, lifting the bill out and pressing it into her hand. And now she understood this was more than just anger. He was grieving. It had all happened so suddenly, discovering about the pregnancy and its conclusion. “Or did the hospital make it up, Annie? Was this a lie?”
And for a man used to being hurt and deserted, even by Annie, it was only natural that he would jump to the worst conclusion.
“I was pregnant,” she said, grabbing his hand and holding it so tight that short of bending her fingers backwards painfully he had no choice but to tolerate the grip. “I didn’t know.” She stared into his eyes, though it was so much harder to look at him and say what she was confessing to. “When I left you, I was a mess. I was in a downward spiral that knocked me sideways. I was hardly eating. I existed on a diet of black coffee and dried biscuits. I stayed in bed for two weeks straight.”
“Are you actually expecting me to understand why you did this?”
She sobbed. “Please let me finish.”
Her shaking was distracting him. He went to remove his hand but she wrapped her fingers more tightly around it. “I spent months in a weird haze. I wasn’t myself.”
“So? You chose to leave me! If you were upset then it w
as your own doing.”
She bit down on her lip. “Let me finish,” she said once more. “If you want me to go at the end of this, I will.”
“Fine.” Now when he pulled his hand she let go, and he crossed his arms across his chest. It wasn’t a particularly encouraging gesture but she knew that their only chance for a future together rested on the next few moments. “But for God’s sake, Annie, hurry up. Right now I’m sick to death of the sight of you.”
Pain clawed at her being. “I lost the baby.”
It was the only thing left to admit. The truth. Saying the words brought a form of relief to her, even though emptiness and shame followed swiftly behind. She couldn’t look at him now. Her face took on a hollow expression as she recounted the details of that day. “I woke up feeling sick. But by the afternoon I was vomiting and could hardly walk. I was in the most excruciating pain.” Her face was ashen. “I was on my way home when I passed out, crossing a street. That’s the last thing I remember before someone called nine one one and I ended up at the hospital.”
Kyle shifted his weight from one foot in the other. He tried to keep a grip on his temper but confusion was nudging it aside. “The bill says termination.”
She shook her head. “I know. That’s not the first bill. Losing a baby is blood expensive, actually, let me tell you.” Her voice trembled with an attempt at a laugh but it was totally the wrong place and the laugh morphed into a sob. “I had to have a procedure,” she swallowed. “Because I was a few months along. It wasn’t straight forward.” She blanked her eyes shut. “It was awful, actually. A nightmare. I guess that’s just the billing code for what I … for what … for what happened to me. I could check it against the bills I have …”
He spun away from her and paced to the kitchen bench. He pressed his weight against it. “No. That hardly matters.” He closed his eyes, allowing the facts to click into place. He needed more information. “Why didn’t you call me?”
“And tell you what? That I’d been so selfish I hadn’t even noticed I was pregnant?”
“Annie,” he shook his head in despair. “This wasn’t your fault.”
“That’s what the doctor said. But we both know it was.”
His eyes were clouded with emotion. “Why? Why do you say that?”
“Because! It was our baby, and I couldn’t even keep it. What kind of woman am I?”
“Stop.” He drew in a deep breath; his lungs burned as if lava was coursing down his throat. “I’m no expert on these things but my understanding is that miscarriages happen and no one really knows why …”
“That’s what they say.” Her inflection showed how little comfort that thought gave her though.
“You shouldn’t have gone through this on your own.”
She dashed at her tears but more quickly took their place. “I was alone,” she agreed, threading her fingers in tangles and knots. “I left you because you could never love me like I loved you. But when I lost our baby I realised that I wanted to have our child more than anything on earth.” She sucked in a fortifying breath. “I wanted our baby. I would never have …”
“I know.” He groaned, pulling at his hair until it spiked in disarray. “God, Annie, of course I know that. I saw that bill and I just …”
“You were blindsided,” she finished hastily, understanding why he’d jumped to such a conclusion. “And it’s pretty bloody misleading.”
“I’m so sorry.” He stood once more and closed the distance between them, though Annie moved too, seeking his body and needing their closeness. “Annie, I’m so sorry.” He pulled her to his chest and held her tight, lifting her off the floor and pressing kisses into her hair. “When I think of what you must have gone through and all without me …”
“I thought about calling you. But I knew you’d blame me, as I did myself. I couldn’t let you hate me.” She sobbed. “But you hated me anyway.”
“Don’t.” He eased her back to the ground but kept his arms around her so that she could hear the fast tattoo of his heart. “I hated that you left me. I could never hate you.”
“I had to go,” she said, the pain of their situation rushing back to her.
“Why?” He pushed, his voice grated from his mouth.
“Because!” She stamped her foot in frustration but he didn’t release her. “You were never mine. Loving you was the biggest risk of my life. And it turned out I didn’t have the nerve to see it through.”
“That doesn’t make even an ounce of sense,” he said slowly.
“Yes it does.” Her words were hollow.
“What the hell kind of crazy are you talking about?”
“Look at you!” She snapped. “And look at me. Look at your world. I never fit in, Kyle.” A sob wracked her slim body. “Everyone knew it. And eventually you would have too. People like you don’t marry people like me. We are the definition of chalk and cheese.”
“Bullshit.” He shook his head. “I spent my life waiting to meet you. I have never had the kind of love you offered me.”
“It’s not enough. If you loved me …”
“I would have done everything differently,” He nodded sharply. “Yeah. I screwed up. I did. But believe me, Annie, you are all I want. What can I do to show you that?”
She swallowed to ease the pain in her throat. Tears were cloying in her mouth. “You could go back six months and take me seriously,” she said with a shrug.
“God, I would if I could, Annie.” He ran his hand over her silky hair, remembering how it looked as a skein against the pillow when she slept. “You have to understand that trusting people doesn’t come easily to me. You weren’t the only one who was living in fear that our marriage might end. Anyone I’ve ever cared about has either left me or given me up.”
“And I did the same,” she nodded. “But …”
“You had every reason to,” he promised. “I spent our whole marriage pushing you away.”
She nodded quickly. “I spent every day wondering when the axe was going to fall. I can’t keep up with you. I can’t compete with the women in your world. I’m not smart like you. I’m not glamorous. And one day you’re going to meet someone else who you fall head over heels in love with.”
“Stop.” He lifted a finger to her lips, urging her to be silent. “I have met enough women to know what I don’t want. And what I do. And I just want you.”
She swallowed. “It’s too much. I’m afraid. I’m afraid of loving you and losing you again. Of loving you and not having you love me back. I’m afraid. And I don’t want to feel like this anymore.”
“Maybe when two people love each other like we do it never stops being scary. Maybe you just learn to live with the fear, and to talk about it a bit better.”
Her heart turned over. “I don’t know. I mean, if Adam hadn’t stuffed up again, I wouldn’t have come back to you. Isn’t that a sign that we’re better just letting this go?”
“It’s a sign that we’re both as stupid as each other,” he contradicted darkly. “When it comes to this whole marriage thing, at least.”
She drew her brows together. “I was so scared to come to your office.”
“God, Annie, don’t. It tears me apart to think of you dreading coming to see me. You should know that you can always ask me for anything. Any time. Whether you decide you want to be in this marriage or not.”
Her lips twisted into a mocking smile. “Or you’ll blackmail me back?”
He winced. “Fair comment.” His hands ran along her back, smoothing the fabric of her shirt and feeling her slender figure beneath. “I did blackmail you. Holding you now I can’t believe that I did that. You walked in and I knew –bam – that I couldn’t lose you. I knew I still loved you as much as ever and I was pretty sure you felt the same.”
She was very quiet, listening to his words, wondering if there would ever be an explanation that sufficiently justified the way he’d used her brother’s activities to leverage her back into his life.
“Lov
ing you was never my problem. But Kyle … if you knew how I came to dread so much of our life.”
“I was a terrible husband, first time around,” he hushed her and she held her breath, waiting for him to continue. “I thought that marrying you, and having the certificate to prove it, meant I finally had you. The woman of my dreams. My family. I thought of you more as a possession or an asset, less as a person with needs and feelings distinctly separate from mine. God, I was such an idiot, Annie. Such a fool. You were miserable.” He lifted his hands and cupped her face. “You were uncomfortable even in our own home and I didn’t see it. I arrogantly assumed that because we were married, it was a done deal. Forever and ever.”
She swallowed. “Loving you was a done deal. Even when I left you I knew I would always feel that for you.”
He shook his head. “I don’t deserve you. I don’t deserve that.”
“Of course you do,” she groaned, pushing her head on his chest. “This is just impossible. You’re wary of really letting anyone into that heart of yours, and I’m only going to be happy if I feel I have all of you.” She bit down on her lip. “I don’t know how we can overcome the differences of who we are.”
“I do.” He laced his fingers through hers and lifted her hand to his lips. He kissed her palm and then slowly eased the ring off her engagement finger. Annie watched as he placed it in the centre of her hand and curled her fist around it. “Every day we have to make a decision to be there for one another. That’s marriage. It isn’t one day, one commitment, one promise and pledge. It’s a commitment we need to make again and again to love, honour, cherish and respect one another. I failed you, Annie. I made that promise to you on our wedding day but I didn’t fulfil it. Not as you deserve.” Tears were running down Annie’s cheeks but she didn’t feel them.
“I didn’t honour you when I bullied you back into my life. I didn’t cherish you by taking you to Aspen, knowing how unhappy you’d been there last time. And I didn’t respect your feelings during our marriage. You told me you were unhappy but more than that, you showed me, and I refused to listen.” He ran a finger over her cheek, his expression sombre.
Marrying for his Royal Heir & The Terms of Their Affair (Clare Connelly Pairs Book 7) Page 25