Broken Hearts (Light in the Dark Book 5)

by Micalea Smeltzer

Maybe it’s wrong of me to cut ties, they are my parents, but they’ve brought me nothing but heartbreak, and I can’t keep putting myself through that. I refuse when I have the ability to change the outcome.

  “Well,” Xander’s voice booms through the room. “Let’s have Xael open her gifts.”

  Immediately, the tone in the room changes. It’s back to light and happy. Xael’s set down on the floor and handed a gift one at a time while Xander and Thea sit beside her helping. Rae takes pictures of everything.

  Xael giggles, whipping a piece of wrapping paper back and forth where the tape has gotten stuck to her hand.

  “Come here, princess.” Xander grabs her hand and pulls the piece of paper off.

  Xael immediately bursts into tears and screams, “No!”

  Thea sighs and looks at all of us. “No is her favorite word,” she explains.

  Xander hands her back the paper and the tears immediately cease, though there’s still the evidence left on her cheeks.

  When all the gifts are open, Xael is placed in her high-chair with the small cake. It has one lone candle, and Xander and Thea stand on either side of her chair as Xander lights it.

  “Blow out your candle and make a wish,” Thea tells her.

  Xael looks at her like she’s lost her mind.

  Thea shakes her head and her eyes meet Xander’s. They blow out the candle together and Xael claps her hands, exclaiming a gurgled, “Yay!”

  Thea removes the candle and Xander pushes the cake closer to her.

  “Go for it,” he tells her.

  Xael puts her hand in the icing and in the blink of an eye she slaps her hand against the corner of Xander’s mouth and cheek. Xander looks stone faced for a moment before he breaks out in a grin.

  “Just like her mother.” He shakes his head and wipes the icing off with a finger before sticking it in his mouth.

  Xael smacks her chubby hand into the cake, completely destroying it. She grabs a handful of cake and shoves it in her mouth. Most of it ends up splattered on her face and clothes, but since she’s a baby she looks adorable and not like a drunk sorority girl.

  “Anyone want cake?” Thea points to the other cake.

  Jace’s hand shoots into the air. “I’m always game for cake.”

  I shake my head and stifle a laugh. Jace’s love for cake is as amusing as it is endearing.

  “So, cake for everyone else and none for Jace?” Thea asks, meeting all of our eyes.

  “Careful,” I tell her, “if you don’t give him any, he’ll steal mine.”

  “Jace would steal cake from his pregnant girlfriend?” She sounds doubtful.

  Jace shrugs and nods. “Cake is a serious matter.”

  Thea sighs in resignation, “Isn’t everything?”

  Nova

  Jace and I walk down the street, hand in hand.

  It’s April, but the weather is surprisingly nice. It’s well over fifty, which is practically a heat wave after the chill of winter. There a couple of clouds, promising those dreaded April showers, but for now the sun is fighting against them and winning.

  I smile at him, a slight bounce to my steps.

  I radiate happiness and it feels good, addicting.

  We duck into our favorite café close to our house.

  The thing I love most about living in the city is the close access we have to places like this.

  We take a seat and don’t even bother picking up a menu.

  Our usual waitress heads over. “The usual?”

  We both nod. “Thanks,” I say as she walks away.

  Jace leans back in his seat. “That stroller is a fucking nightmare. It’s worse than the crib. Who the fuck designed it? Thea on one of her caffeine highs?”

  I laugh and shake my head. “It can’t be that difficult.”

  “Easy for you to say. You only stand there and watch me.”

  I laugh, it’s true. But he usually gets frustrated, tears off his shirt, and pulls at his hair so it’s mussed. I have to admit, it kind of makes me think naughty thoughts.

  “I’ve been working on it for two hours and I think I’ve maybe put two pieces together, and I don’t even know if I did those right.”

  “You’ll get it,” I tell him. “Maybe Xander can help?” I suggest.

  He snorts and then gives a polite smile when the waitress sets down his coffee and my glass of water.

  “I can do this.”

  “Are you afraid to ask for help?”

  He makes a choking sound before spitting out, “No.”

  “Mhmm.”

  He sighs. “Who am I kidding? Beckett will be here before I have the thing put together.”

  I snort. “He’s not here for two more months.”

  “Exactly.”

  I nearly hum in delight when the B.L.T. sandwich and fries is placed before me. Once the nausea finally ceased I’ve had an appetite like I did early in the pregnancy where I want to eat everything.

  I tear into the sandwich like I’m never going to see food again, and I’m so hungry I can’t even feel sorry for the other patrons that have to hear me moan.

  Jace’s lips quirk, entirely amused, but he chooses not to comment. I think he values his life, which is smart of him.

  My phone chimes with a text and I glance at it.

  Joel: Just got a booking this Friday. Huge production. Going to need both of us.

  Nova: Sweet! What is it?

  Joel: Little Mermaid theme—complete with water.

  Nova: Interesting.

  Joel: It’s going to take a lot of work in Photoshop. The photo gods better be looking down on us.

  Nova: Please, we’ve got this.

  And we do. Joel and I might be young but I know we’re amazing at what we do. Both of us self-taught ourselves a lot before college, and college only added to our knowledge.

  I put my phone away and finish my sandwich.

  Jace finishes his soup and glances at his watch. “We need to go or we’re going to be late.”

  He grabs his wallet from his back pocket and leaves enough money to cover the food and tip.

  The café is only a block from the apartment, so it doesn’t take us long to reach his truck.

  I still haven’t traded in my car like I know I need to, but I’m determined to do it by next month. I’ve been looking online at some options but haven’t test driven anything. I know once I do Jace is going to push me to buy something that day, so I want to already have a pretty good idea of what I want when the time comes.

  We arrive at the doctor’s office for my check-up. I’m beginning to feel like I live at this place.

  I fix my ponytail, before sliding out of the truck with a grunt. I’m beginning to feel like a planet, and I’m not even big yet.

  Jace takes my hand, leading me inside.

  He glances down at me with a smirk as he holds the door open and I go in first.

  “I love your little waddle.”

  I turn around and glare at him. “What did you say?”

  “Waffle. I love your little waffle.”

  “Yes, because I currently have a waffle on me.” I roll my eyes and head for the front desk, signing in.

  Once I’m signed in I sit down beside Jace. It’s nice that most days he works a late shift so he can go to my appointments. I’m fine going by myself, but it’s nice having him here, and I know he likes seeing the baby too.

  “We need to get a new car,” he tells me, echoing my thoughts from earlier. “We need something we can go ahead and have a car seat in so it’s ready when he comes.”

  I laugh. “We have time. I’m only seven months.”

  “Still,” he argues. “I’d like to be prepared.”

  My name is called and I stand, heading toward the nurse. Jace trails behind me.

  “How are you today?” the nurse asks.

  “Good,” I say brightly. “And you?”

  “Great,” she replies, leading me to a room.

  I take off my coat and get situated on
the exam table. Jace takes his seat, his leg bouncing restlessly.

  “Let’s see how baby is doing.” The nurse smiles kindly.

  I roll up my shirt, exposing my stomach. She squirts the goo on and it squishes out of the bottle.

  Grabbing the wand, she adjusts the cord before putting it on my stomach.

  The baby pops up on the screen and like always I break out into the biggest smile, Jace too. Right there, on that tiny screen, is a miracle.

  I stare at the screen, squinting. Something isn’t right, but I’m not sure what.

  The nurse moves the wand around some more, her own brows furrowed.

  Her concern makes mine skyrocket.

  It’s like shocks are going off in my body, warning me something is terribly wrong and I need to get the hell out of there.

  “I …” she begins. “I’ll be right back.”

  She’s out of the room before I can ask any questions—not that I seem to be able to form any anyway.

  There’s only silence in my mind, refusing to except what’s right in front of me.

  I turn my head, looking at Jace. His fingers are pressed to his lips, and his eyes ooze concern.

  “J-Jace?” I stutter, and he forces his eyes to mine and away from the now blank screen. Tears shimmer in his eyes.

  Panic builds in my chest, choking me like a vice.

  It’s then I realize the baby wasn’t moving and … and there wasn’t that amazing steady thump thump thumping of his heart.

  There was … emptiness.

  “No,” I gasp. “No,” I say, louder this time.

  “Nova,” Jace says softly, grasping my hand.

  “No,” I shout this time and rip my hand from his like I’ve been burned. He winces, clearly hurt by my actions. “No, no, no.” I shake my head roughly back and forth. “No, this is wrong,” I defend.

  “Nova,” he says again, his tone and gaze pitying.

  I feel like I’m going to be sick.

  The door opens and the doctor steps in with a solemn expression.

  She washes her hands and sits down, none of her usual cheeriness. She grabs the wand and presses it to my stomach, pressing a few buttons and moving it around.

  And still the baby does not move.

  No thump thump thump.

  Nothing.

  There’s nothing.

  “I’m sorry—” my doctor begins, but before she can continue, I burst into uncontrollable sobs.

  “Oh, Nova,” Jace breathes, sounding heartbroken.

  He stands and wraps his arms around me. I fight against him at first, not wanting his touch or anyone’s, but eventually I can’t help it and I cling tightly to him.

  Wetness drips onto my forehead and for a moment I wonder where it’s from, but then I realize he’s crying too.

  I’ve never, not once, seen Jace actually cry.

  I guess it would take something big to make him cry, and this … this is monumental. This is life changing in a bad way.

  I struggle to get enough oxygen to my lungs, panic choking my throat.

  I want to believe this isn’t real. I squish my eyes closed and then pop them open, but everything is still the same. None of this is going away, and my doctor is looking at us with pity.

  “No, you’re wrong,” I finally choke out, my words thick.

  She frowns. “I wish I was.”

  Still holding me, Jace turns to her. “Why? Why did this happen?”

  She gives us another sad look. “All your scans have looked perfect. There was no sign anything was wrong. Sometimes these things, they just happen.”

  Her words cut me. I need more of an explanation. I need to understand what I did wrong, what caused this, because there must be a reason. I refuse to except that these things just happen.

  I sob into Jace’s shirt, clutching his arm so hard my nails dent the surface, but he doesn’t say anything or go to move away. If anything he holds me tighter, like he’s willing my pain to sink into his so I don’t have to feel any of this.

  “What happens now?” Jace asks, his voice shaky.

  “Well,” the doctor begins, “this late in a pregnancy it’s best to induce labor and deliver that way.”

  I shudder.

  “I’m sorry,” my doctor says again, and I feel her touch my leg in sympathy.

  I wish words could make this better. I wish anything could, but it won’t.

  “I’d like you to come in tomorrow morning to the hospital and we’ll get things moving.”

  I nod woodenly.

  I’m feeling numb.

  In a daze, I pull myself from Jace’s arms and yank down my shirt, not caring there’s still goo on it. We follow the doctor out, setting up the time for the appointment at the hospital tomorrow.

  When I step outside, the sunlight is gone.

  The sky is a dark stormy gray, echoing the thoughts inside my head.

  I stare up at it and a rain drop hits my cheek.

  I had everything.

  And now …

  Now, I have nothing.

  Jace

  Nova hasn’t spoken one word since the news yesterday.

  Not one fucking word.

  I’ve tried desperately to get her to talk to me, to even look at me, but it’s like she’s comatose. She keeps sitting there, frozen on the couch, clutching her stomach like she can will the baby back to life.

  My already broken heart feels shattered completely as I watch her helplessly.

  I know there’s nothing I can do or say to make this better for her but I want to try—I want to try so much that my own grief is buried down so low I can barely feel it now.

  “We need to go,” I say softly, lifting the duffel bag on my shoulder, full of a change of clothes and other things I thought she might need. It killed me packing the bag for her, thinking this was something we would’ve been doing closer to his due date, adding his stuff along with ours.

  Nova doesn’t move. She sits there, staring straight ahead as her hand rubs her stomach, her face is void of emotion.

  “Nova,” I say more sternly.

  Slowly, she turns to look at me. Her brown eyes, once full of happiness and life, are now dark and void of emotion.

  She stands and heads for the door.

  “Nova,” I say again, “your shoes, and you need a coat.”

  Woodenly, she turns back around and slips her feet into a pair of boots and grabs her coat.

  I press my hand to her back, leading her out and she flinches away from my touch. That one reaction is like jabbing a knife into my heart and twisting it. The girl I love doesn’t even want me to touch her.

  Yesterday, when we came home, she went straight to bed, fully clothed, and didn’t move. I don’t think she even cried, if she did I didn’t hear her, but it was like she had to shut herself out from the world.

  As much as I didn’t want to, I took the time to call our friends to tell them what happened. They were as shocked as we were—are—and Thea sobbed when I told her. I felt like crying with her, but after leaving the doctor’s office my tears had dried up for the moment.

  We get in my truck and I drive to the hospital. Nova looks out the passenger window, her reflection showing the complete blankness that has become all too familiar in the past twenty-four hours.

  It’s like her soul has been sucked from her body and a shell has been left behind.

  I park at the hospital and shut the truck off, sitting there for a moment.

  “Nova,” I plead softly and she reluctantly turns my way after a moment. “I love you.” I don’t know why, but I need her to hear it, to understand I truly do love her, and nothing, not even this, could ever change that.

  Her face changes, gone is the blankness and in its place is pure anger. At least it’s better than the nothingness of before.

  “How? How could you love me when I don’t even love myself? How could you love me when my body failed us? Failed him?”

  If there was any bit of my heart left to break, it
would have.

  “This isn’t your fault, Nova.”

  “Yes, it is,” she snaps. “Something went wrong in my body and it’s my fault.”

  I shake my head. “You don’t know that. Any number of things could have gone wrong. These things just happen.”

  “Shut up!” she screams so loud I wince. “You sound like my doctor.”

  “Because it’s true.”

  “No, it’s not. You know what is true? It’s that I’m worthless.”

  Before I can respond, she’s fleeing the truck and slamming the door behind her.

  I can feel her slipping through my fingers, and I don’t know how to prevent myself from losing her forever.

  Nova grips the railing of the hospital bed and grimaces in pain.

  She refuses to get an epidural, wanting to force herself to feel the pain I guess, and she also refuses to hold my hand. Her distance is as unnerving as it is frightening. We’ve been through so much together. I don’t want to start fighting our battles alone, especially when it’s the same battle. We need each other now more than ever but she can’t see that. It’s like she thinks by punishing herself, she can relieve some of the pain. But she’s wrong, all she’s doing is hurting us both.

  I wet a cool cloth and press it to her forehead. Her eyes are squished closed and she pants.

  “You’re doing great,” I tell her.

  “Ahhh,” she moans in pain.

  I wish she’d get the fucking epidural, because seeing her in pain like this is slowly killing me.

  I bend and press my lips to the top of her head. “You’re amazing,” I murmur. “You’ve got this.”

  She begins to cry. “Make it stop. Make it go away.”

  “Fuck, I wish I could, Little Star.”

  I would do anything for her if I could. I hate this is one thing I can’t.

  Panting, she reaches out for my hand and my heart lurches at her acceptance. She’s been in labor for three hours and not once wanted to hold my hand, and if I tried, she pushed me away.

  I gladly give her my hand, not even caring she’s squeezing the life out of it.

  The door opens and our nurse breezes in. “How’s it going in here?”

  “How’s it look like?” Nova slurs through clenched teeth, fighting another contraction. They’re insanely close together now. I don’t know how her body can handle it. Women are powerful immortal creatures, I’m sure of it.