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0373659504 (R) Page 19

by Brenda Harlen


  Justin had never appreciated his own parents so much as he did after hearing Avery talk about her childhood. And while he knew there was no way to undo the damage that had been done by her parents’ disinterest and neglect, he hoped he could heal it by loving her. Because he refused to give up on her or the family he wanted them to build together.

  Except that Avery’s response to his declaration proved that she wasn’t ready to acknowledge or accept his feelings. He cupped her face gently between his hands and used his thumbs to brush away the tears that spilled onto her cheeks.

  “I didn’t expect a declaration of my feelings would make you cry,” he said, trying to keep his tone light.

  “It’s been an emotional day.”

  “I know.”

  “I’m scared,” she admitted. “I don’t want to look too far ahead or make any specific plans when everything could change in the blink of an eye.”

  He knew that she was worried about their baby, and he was, too. So he let the subject drop—for the moment.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Tuesday morning, Avery had her appointment with Dr. Herschel. Justin went with her, and the doctor reassured both of them that everything was fine and there was no reason to suspect that she would have any further complications. He also reminded Avery to take her cues from her body—to eat when she was hungry, rest when she was tired—and to let the baby’s father do as much for her as he was willing to do.

  “You bribed him to say that, didn’t you?” Avery asked, when she and Justin left the doctor’s office.

  “I didn’t,” he denied. “Although I might have if I’d thought of it.”

  She shook her head at that, but she was smiling.

  “Are you going back to work tomorrow?”

  “I am,” she confirmed. “But I’m going to do fewer shifts at the hospital and shorter shifts at the clinic.”

  “I know you’re more than capable of taking care of yourself,” he acknowledged. “But maybe you could consider staying at my place for a while longer.”

  “Why?”

  “Because knowing you’re capable doesn’t mean I won’t worry about you,” he admitted. “And because I want to watch your body change and grow along with our baby, and because I’d love to be there when you feel her move for the first time.”

  “A lot of first-time mothers don’t feel their babies move until after twenty weeks,” she told him.

  “I’ll try to be patient.”

  She shook her head. “That’s not what I meant. I meant that I’m only in my sixteenth week right now—the novelty of having a pregnant roommate might wear off long before you can feel anything.”

  “I’ll let you know if it does,” he promised.

  Still, she hesitated. Not because she didn’t want to stay with him, but because she did. Over the past few weeks, she’d started to rely on him, his company and companionship more than she ever would have expected. And even though they hadn’t had sex since they’d returned from Atlanta, she loved falling asleep beside him at night and waking up with him in the morning.

  “I guess I could stay a little longer,” she agreed.

  * * *

  It was three weeks later, after she woke up to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night, that she felt tiny flutters in her belly. When she realized it was their baby, she immediately nudged Justin awake to share the news. Of course, the movements were so subtle that he wasn’t able to feel anything from the outside, but he seemed as happy as she was, anyway.

  She continued to see Dr. Herschel on a weekly basis, and every week Justin was there with her. The baby continued to grow and thrive, and her belly continued to get bigger. Justin seemed to be fascinated by the changing shape of her body, but when he touched her—as he did frequently—it was with the cautious awe of an expectant father rather than the passionate desire of an ardent lover.

  She knew that he was being considerate of her feelings and showing concern for their baby, but her body ached for him. So at her next appointment, four weeks after Dr. Herschel had given her permission to go back to work, she asked—without looking at Justin—if there were any restrictions on sexual activity.

  The doctor seemed surprised by her question. No doubt he assumed that she, being an obstetrician, would understand that the danger had passed and there was no cause to worry that sex would jeopardize her pregnancy. Which she did know, of course, but she wanted Justin to hear from another professional.

  He took the hint. That night, he made love to her passionately but tenderly. Afterward, he snuggled up behind her with his hand splayed on the curve of her belly, their baby nudged against his palm. He felt it that time, and when she saw the awe and wonder on his face, Avery acknowledged that all of her efforts to protect her heart had been for naught.

  She wasn’t just starting to fall in love with Justin—she was more than halfway there. All she could do now was brace herself and hope that her heart wouldn’t shatter into a million pieces when reality hit.

  * * *

  Early in June, Avery and Amy were on opposite schedules but decided to meet at the Corner Deli for lunch.

  “Things are slightly chaotic at the clinic,” Amy warned, as she picked up her turkey club wrap. “Pam just broke up with her boyfriend.”

  Avery nibbled on a French fry that she’d stolen off her friend’s plate. She’d ordered a salad for her own lunch because she’d already gained sixteen pounds and had promised herself that she would try to eat more healthy foods, but she figured one or two fries weren’t really cheating. “They were together for a long time, weren’t they?”

  “Five years,” Amy confirmed. “And because she moved in with him last year, he’s insisting that she be the one to move out. I suggested that she ask you about your place.”

  Avery shook her head. “There aren’t any vacant units in my building.”

  “I didn’t mean your building but your actual apartment.”

  She lifted her brows. “You mean the one that I live in?”

  “I mean the one that you pay rent for,” Amy clarified. “Which seems a waste of money when you’re living with Justin.”

  “I’m not living with Justin,” she denied.

  “Really?” Amy’s voice was tinged with amusement. “When was the last time you slept at home?”

  The furrow in her brow deepened as she tried to remember and realized that she hadn’t spent a night in her own bed since the miscarriage scare more than seven weeks earlier. She’d gone back to her own place periodically, to pick up a few things when she needed them, but Amy was right—she was living with Justin.

  “Tonight,” she declared. “I’m going back to my place tonight.”

  “But why?” Amy was clearly baffled by the decision.

  “Because this wasn’t supposed to happen.” Avery said, referring not just to their current living situation but her feelings for Justin. “And I’m not even sure how it did. I agreed that we could figure out a way for us to work together for the sake of the baby, but I never agreed to live with him.”

  “Wouldn’t living together make it a lot easier to work together—for the sake of the baby?”

  “Sure,” she admitted. “And if I continue to go along with this, the next thing I know, I’ll end up married to him without ever planning for that to happen, either.”

  “There are worse things than being married to a sexy doctor,” Amy pointed out.

  “I don’t want to get married, and I especially don’t want to marry a doctor.” Except that she did. In her heart, that was exactly what she wanted—a future with Justin and their baby. But the wanting scared her, so she buried it deep inside.

  “We’re not talking about any doctor,” her friend pointed out. “We’re talking about Justin—the father of your baby, the man who’s wildly in love with you and wants to spend his life with you.”

  “Did he tell you that?”

  Amy shook her head. “Sweetie, he didn’t have to tell me. It’s obvious in everything h
e says and does that he’s head over heels. And I’ve known you long enough to know that you wouldn’t be in such a panic about his feelings if you didn’t feel the same way.”

  Her friend was right, of course.

  But that knowledge did nothing to alleviate Avery’s anxiety, because she believed that loving Dr. Romeo couldn’t end in anything but heartbreak. And the longer she continued to pretend otherwise, the more devastating that heartbreak would be.

  She was packing up the last of her clothes when Justin got home from the hospital later that night. As she folded and stacked, she realized that most of her wardrobe had found its way to his condo, along with her toiletries and cosmetics and all three of the suitcases she owned.

  “Do you want to go out for dinner tonight?” he asked as he made his way toward the bedroom. “We haven’t yet tried...” His words trailed off when he saw her bags lined up by the door.

  Avery closed the closet.

  “What are you doing?” Justin asked her.

  “I didn’t realize how much stuff I’d dragged over here,” she said, her tone deliberately light. “I thought you’d appreciate me moving it out again so you could have your closet back.”

  “I don’t want my closet back,” he told her. “I want you.”

  As she’d transferred her belongings to her suitcases, she’d reminded herself that this was inevitable, that Justin would be relieved by her decision to move out and grateful not to have to nudge her in that direction. She hadn’t expected him to protest, and she definitely hadn’t anticipated the hurt and confusion she could see in his eyes.

  She tried to explain. “When you first invited me to stay here... I don’t think either of us expected this to go on like this for as long as it has.”

  He was quiet for a minute, considering his response. Then he nodded. “You’re right. I thought we would have moved to the next stage of our relationship before now, but I didn’t think you were ready.”

  “The next stage?” she echoed.

  He took her hand and led her over to the bed, sitting down on the edge of the mattress facing her. “I want to marry you, Avery. In fact, I planned to ask you tonight.” He pulled a small jeweler’s box out of the inside pocket of his jacket. “That’s why I was late—I had to go pick this up.”

  She felt the sting of tears in her eyes. “We talked about this, Justin. When you first found out about the baby and suggested that we should get married, I said no.”

  “That was five months ago,” he pointed out.

  “Why would you expect my answer to be any different now?”

  “Because of everything that’s happened over the past five months,” he said patiently.

  She shook her head. “Nothing has changed.”

  “Everything has changed, Avery. Why can’t you see that?”

  “We had an agreement,” she reminded him, refusing to let herself be swayed by the frustration in his tone. “This was supposed to be temporary.”

  “I tried to give you time, to accept how I feel—to believe that I want to be a husband to you and a father to our baby.”

  He hadn’t told her how he felt—not in words—since the first night she’d spent here at his condo, when they’d both been so worried about her health. As a result, she’d managed to convince herself that his feelings for her had changed—or maybe even that he’d been mistaken to ever think that he was in love with her.

  But he said the words again now. “I love you, Avery. And I want to spend the rest of my life—every single day of it—proving that to you.”

  Every word he spoke made her heart soar a little higher, but she was determined to keep her feet firmly planted on the ground. “I think what’s going on here is that our feelings for the baby are getting tangled up with our growing respect and affection for one another.”

  Justin shook his head sadly. “I watch you at work, and I’m continually amazed by how strong and fearless you are. But when it comes to your personal life—our life together—you’re a complete coward.”

  “Maybe I’m overly cautious at times,” she allowed. “But I’m thinking about our baby now and trying to do what’s right for her.”

  “And you believe that leaving is the right thing for our baby? For us?”

  “I believe it’s inevitable.” Deep in her heart, she knew that she was being unfair, that she was using the heartache from her past as a shield against him, but she couldn’t help it. The scars of those ancient wounds were too deep—she couldn’t risk her heart again.

  “Okay,” he finally said. “If that’s what you really believe, I’m not going to try to convince you to stay.”

  “Thank you,” she said, though the victory felt hollow.

  This was what she wanted, so why wasn’t she happy? Had she really been foolish enough to hope that he would fight for her?

  He cupped her face in his hands. “I know what you’re thinking,” he said gently. “And you’re wrong.”

  “What am I thinking?”

  “You think I’m letting you go because I don’t want you anymore.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” she said.

  “It does,” he insisted. “The only reason I’m not fighting you on this is that I need you to realize my feelings for you aren’t about proximity or about the baby. They aren’t about anything but you and me, and they’re not going to change just because you’re not living under the same roof with me.

  “I know you’ve got scars,” he continued. “I know it’s hard for you to trust me when I tell you I love you, harder still to believe that those feelings are being offered without any strings or conditions. I thought five months was enough time—obviously I was wrong.

  “But you need to understand that turning down my proposal and moving out aren’t going to change anything. When I say that I love you, I mean that I love you forever.”

  She wanted—almost desperately—to believe him. But the strong and fearless woman he loved didn’t exist in this world, and the weak and terrified one didn’t belong.

  He helped her load her suitcases in her car, because even when she was walking out on him, he was still determined to take care of her. Of course, when she got back to her own apartment, she’d be on her own with her luggage. Or so she believed until she saw her brother waiting for her.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  “Your doctor called and asked me to come over here to give you a hand with some things.”

  “He’s not my doctor,” she said wearily.

  “Is that why you moved out?”

  It seemed ridiculous, when he was laden down with three suitcases, to deny that she’d ever moved in, so she said nothing as Ryder carried her bags into her apartment.

  “Are you going to tell me what happened?”

  “He asked me to marry him,” she admitted.

  Ryder sighed. “And you trampled all over his heart, didn’t you?”

  “He’ll get over it.”

  “I don’t know if he will—he loves you, sis.”

  “Do you really believe that?”

  “I get that it’s hard for you to recognize and accept his feelings,” he said, dumping the luggage beside her bed. “We got screwed over pretty good in the parent department and I couldn’t say for sure whether Mom and Dad loved us, or even if they’re capable of those kinds of emotions. But that’s on them—not you.”

  “I know,” she said softly, but acknowledging the truth in her head was a lot easier than accepting it in her heart.

  He tipped her chin up so that she had to look him in the eye. “Do you believe that I love you?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  “And do you love me, too?”

  “Of course.”

  He wrapped his arms around her, offering the comfort he knew she would never ask for. “So why don’t you believe that Justin could love you as much as you love him?”

  * * *

  Justin called her every day, just to see how she was doing. Even if he was working,
he would find a couple of minutes to steal away to make a phone call. Sometimes they only chatted for a few minutes and other times they talked for much longer. Avery enjoyed talking to him and she found herself looking forward to their daily conversations, but she missed being with him.

  Three and a half weeks after she moved back into her own apartment, she was on her way to the hospital cafeteria to grab a bite when she realized that many of her colleagues were looking at her differently. As if they were in on some kind of secret that she knew nothing about.

  Then she walked into the cafeteria and saw it: an enormous banner stretched out across the back wall, over the seating area, proclaiming: Justin Garrett Loves Avery Wallace.

  She closed her eyes for a second, but when she opened them again, it was still there. For not just her but everyone else who walked into the cafeteria to see. She wanted to turn around and walk out again, but she forced herself to ignore the stares and whispers and pick up a tray. She’d lost her appetite, but she moved toward the salad bar, anyway.

  “The man sure knows how to make a statement, doesn’t he?” Amy picked up the tongs to pile lettuce on her plate.

  Avery had never been so grateful to see her friend, and her presence made her feel a little bit steadier as she added a few cucumber slices and cherry tomatoes to her own salad.

  “Any idea what brought this about?” Amy asked.

  “I’m guessing a severe head injury.” She grabbed a bottle of water from a refrigerated display case and—because the salad was healthy enough to warrant dessert—a tub of cookies ’n’ cream, then headed toward the cash.

  Amy followed her to an empty table in the atrium, as far away from the banner as possible without actually leaving the dining room. “Do you believe it?”

 

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