by Donna Alward
Her heart melted at the genuine affection in his voice. “You are, in all the ways that count. I think it’s lovely.”
“Thanks. Hey, got any milk or cream for this?”
She’d forgotten he liked his coffee light, and before she could move he’d gone to the fridge, making himself at home as he had the last several times he’d visited. But when he turned around, his face dropped and she realized she’d left the pregnancy test box on the counter.
He put the mug down very quietly.
“Bran, I—”
“Are you pregnant?”
The way he said those three words sent her heart straight to her feet. He made it sound as if the world were truly ending. The last time she’d heard that exact tone, Ana had taken her hand and said, “I have cancer.”
Bran was so repulsed by the idea that it wasn’t just undesirable. It was a world-ending scenario.
She wanted to say something, but the words wouldn’t come together in her mind, let alone out of her mouth. Bran’s lips tightened and he picked up the box. “You told me you were on the pill. I bought condoms to double up. And now you’re pregnant? I told you I don’t want more children. I was very, very clear about that.”
His voice wasn’t angry. It was worse. It was surgically precise, almost emotionless. She understood he didn’t want more kids. She understood that came from grief and that it was his right. He’d been honest from the start. But she also knew that it had taken two of them, and right now it certainly felt as if any blame would have fallen on her, rather than be shared, and that made her angry.
Her voice shook as she replied. “If I were pregnant, we would both bear responsibility. But I’m not, so don’t worry, Branson. You’re off the hook. You can start breathing again.”
“Oh, thank God.”
He sounded so relieved that tears stung the backs of her eyes. “Would it have been so bad?” she snapped. “Would me being pregnant be the worst thing in the world to happen?”
He stepped back at the vitriol in her voice. “No. The worst thing in the world to happen is losing a child.”
Dammit. Silence fell, harsh and thick. Of course it was. She wasn’t that insensitive, even though she’d lashed out. “I’m sorry, Bran. Of course you’re right. I didn’t mean to...” She didn’t know what to say after that. “Look, I’ll be honest with you. The night we stayed in Halifax... I forgot to take my pill the next day. I didn’t have my period this week on schedule, so I got tests this morning just in case.”
“But you’re not pregnant.”
“No.” She lifted her chin a little. “But I think this whole thing, the idea with the ground rules, the summer fling with us going our separate ways with a smile was a little disingenuous on both our parts. I don’t think this is going to work anymore.”
He blinked. Opened his mouth to say something, then shut it again. Then opened it again, and hesitated. “Jess, I like being with you. You’ve brought me back to life, you see? I’m writing. I’m looking toward a future rather than drifting aimlessly. We don’t have to break it off. We can revise the ground rules—”
“No,” she said, firmer now. “No, we can’t. Bran, there are two things you don’t want. You don’t want more children, and you don’t want to fall in love. But you see, I do want children someday. And I fell in love. I know that’s breaking a rule, but I also know it’s a deal breaker anyway. I’m in love with you, and I can’t go through the rest of the summer pretending I’m not, only to break up at the end after I get in even deeper.” She tried to ignore the catch in her voice. “I don’t want to be left again, so we have to do this now.”
“Jess,” he whispered, running a hand over his face.
“Tell me you haven’t been thinking the same thing. In the beginning you couldn’t wait to rush over here, to steal moments together. But after the trip to the island earlier this week, you sent one text saying you were hanging with Cole. The three of you are tight, but you guys didn’t come over here, and you certainly didn’t steal away for a stolen hour. You’re scared. So let’s be honest, okay? I can’t see you anymore. It’s too hard.”
“Yeah, I’ve been thinking the same thing. So what? Listen, we don’t have to have sex...”
The tears behind her eyes sprang forward and trickled down her cheeks. “Is that what it’s been to you? Sex? I don’t believe it. Oh, Lord, Bran, this goes so much further than sex. It’s about my heart, don’t you see? Just being with you, holding your hand, listening to your voice...it all does stuff to me. Intimacy isn’t all about the bedroom.”
“I know that. Do you think I don’t know that? Don’t you think that’s what I miss about Jennie every day?”
It was his turn to snap, and she swallowed against the growing lump in her throat. It was always going to come down to Jennie, wasn’t it? Maybe he didn’t compare her to his dead wife when they were together, but he certainly wasn’t over her. He didn’t want to love again, couldn’t love again, because he couldn’t let Jennie go.
She couldn’t do this anymore. “I’m going to give Tori and Jeremy my notice and go back to my loft in Chicago. My agent is clamoring to do a showing, and I have more than enough work to keep me busy. And you have a book to write.”
He came around the counter and took her hand, then lifted his other hand and wiped a tear off her cheek with his thumb. The contact felt so wonderful and sad. After today she wouldn’t hear the sound of his voice again, or feel the pad of his thumb, or be able to run her hands through his shaggy locks. She’d be going back to Chicago alone, to the loft she’d shared with Ana, fighting against emptiness all over again. For the briefest of moments, she wished the test had been positive just so she’d have company in that huge empty space. A baby wouldn’t leave her. And Bran wasn’t leaving her, either. But she was quickly learning that it didn’t matter who did the leaving. It all hurt.
“I don’t want us to leave things this way,” he whispered. “Not angry and hurting. What we’ve been to each other deserves more than that.”
It did, except she was having a hard time moving past the sound of his voice and the hard lines of his face when he’d seen the test box. It left a sour taste that she couldn’t quite wish away.
“It does hurt. But I’ll be fine. I always am, you see. And we did have a good time, we truly did. It’s just time.”
He nodded. “Can I kiss you one more time?”
Her heart hadn’t actually broken during the whole conversation. She’d been hurt and she’d been angry, but she hadn’t actually felt the moment where the ground seemed to disappear beneath her feet and left this sense of...emptiness. But now...she knew it was for the best, and yet she wanted him to tell her that she was wrong; that he had fallen in love with her too and they could work it out.
She’d always been a stupid dreamer like that.
Her lips trembled as he bent his head and touched his mouth to hers, then pressed his forehead against hers for a long moment while his hands gripped her upper arms.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m sorry I can’t give you what you want.”
He let her go and turned away, and without looking back went through the door, down the steps and to his car.
Every cell in her body begged her to go after him and tell him it didn’t matter.
But it did matter. And it was for the best. Because she deserved someone who loved her unreservedly.
And that wasn’t him, no matter how much she wanted it to be.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
BRAN VENTURED OUT to the lighthouse to survey the latest work. It was coming along nicely, now that the restoration had begun. The foundation had been sound, but there’d been work to do at the top, including replacing the platform and making everything airtight. The door was replaced with a replica of the old one, and fresh paint would go on early next week.
The biggest change, however, was the
addition of windows on the bottom level. Now when he went inside, beams of light lit the interior, making the empty space bright and cheery.
Except nothing was very cheery at all.
He ran his finger over the top of the woodstove, remembering the day Jess had been here and she’d cautioned him not to open the stove door in case there were mice. He smiled a little at the memory, but sadness made his heart heavy. He missed her. His days had gone back to the routine of one after another, little variation, too much time on his own.
The writing was there now, at least, and he’d sent off an opening and general synopsis to his agent, who’d responded with relief. Bran wasn’t a lot of things, but he was still a writer, thank God. Even if the sunshine seemed to have disappeared from his life, he was back in the land of the living.
It just seemed so very bland and pointless without her.
Despondent, he went back to the house and made himself a coffee, then wandered to the den. He booted up his laptop and then, missing her more than usual, opened the browser and went to her website.
It had been updated.
She had a show opening in late October in Chicago. A recent photo showed her laughing, her face alight with happiness and her sunshiny hair gleaming. It hit him right in the gut. Of course she was happy. He was glad. But he was resentful, too. That she’d clearly moved on and he was still...here. Moping half the time and writing the other.
But this was what he’d wanted. What he’d chosen.
His attention was diverted by a car coming up the driveway—Jeremy’s Jaguar. Bran closed the window and shut the laptop, preparing himself for a visit. Cole would be closing on the island property soon, and then the three of them had made a promise to spend a weekend after the possession date, a guys’ weekend with some deep-sea fishing, maybe some rounds of pool in the games room, and unhealthy food like chicken wings and pizza. Bran was looking forward to it.
Anything to be able to stop thinking about her all the time.
He opened the door for Jeremy, and immediately had a moment of alarm. The man looked like he’d hardly slept. His hair stuck up on one side, and his eyes were red.
“What’s happened?” Bran asked, his heart freezing.
“Rose is sick. She’s in Halifax at the children’s hospital right now, but I’ve just spent twenty-four hours there and came home to get stuff to take back. Except... I can’t go in the house, Bran. I didn’t know where else to go.”
Bran took a deep breath. While memories threatened to overwhelm him, he pushed them aside. His best friend needed him, and Bran knew the fear and shock Jeremy was going through. “Is Tori okay?”
Jeremy nodded. “She’s fine. Still at the hospital. We didn’t want to leave Rose alone, and there was no way I was going to be able to tear Tori away, so...”
His voice trailed off, weak and shaky.
“It’s okay. You need to pick up what, clothes? Toiletries? Maybe some food for Tori, so she keeps eating?”
Jeremy nodded, his expression one of exhaustion and misery. “Yes, all of those things.”
“I’ll help.” He put his hand on Jeremy’s shoulder. “You don’t have to do this alone, okay?”
Jeremy nodded. “I’m sorry, bro. I know this is hard for you—”
“Not as much as it used to be. I’m okay. I can deal. Promise.”
He realized it was true as he grabbed his wallet and keys. Three months ago—even two—he would have run in the other direction. Not now. He took Jeremy’s keys from him and drove them over to the house, then waited while Jeremy gathered clothes and personal items. Bran walked over to the sofa and paused, staring down at a little yellow bunny on the cushions. He remembered that bunny. Jess had bought it during one of their trips to the market.
Things were suddenly very quiet, so Bran braced himself and made his way upstairs to check on his friend. He found Jeremy in the nursery, sitting in a rocking chair and holding a blanket in his hands. He wasn’t crying, but Bran knew that meant nothing. He was hurting on the inside, and he was scared.
“Do they know what’s wrong with her?” Bran finally asked, keeping his voice as calm as possible.
“Measles. Something about how she could have picked them up at her last checkup, but she’s too little for the vaccine yet.” His tortured gaze met Bran’s. “Babies can die from measles, Bran.”
“I know. But she’s at the hospital and getting great care, right?”
Jeremy nodded.
“Okay. So let’s put this stuff in the car and get to Halifax so you can give Tori a break. All right?”
Jeremy nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, let’s go.”
As Jeremy got up, Bran noticed a framed picture on the wall. It was a sketch, and one of Jess’s, he was sure of it. Of Rose, in a little bonnet, bundled up and in presumably Tori’s arms. A lump formed in his throat. That precious little girl, who smiled and gurgled at her father’s silly faces, who looked at her mother so adoringly, who had studied him with such wide-eyed curiosity the night of the card game as he’d picked her up for the first time.
His best friend would not lose his daughter the way he’d lost Owen.
They packed the two bags in the car, and Bran offered to drive so Jeremy could rest. They had barely hit the highway when Jeremy fell asleep, and Bran was glad of it. He’d likely been awake all night, worrying about Rose and Tori. Bran remembered one time when Owen had got a cold and struggled to breathe so much. There’d been sleepless nights, but he’d also hated to see Jennie so exhausted and worried.
Bran found his way to the children’s hospital and pulled into the parking garage, waking Jeremy as he rolled down the window for the parking stub. “We’re here, buddy.”
“I didn’t mean to sleep. Sorry.”
“Don’t be. You needed the rest. Come on, I’ll go in with you. Is there someplace inside where we can grab you and Tori some food? Coffee?”
Jeremy nodded. “Yeah. I don’t know if Tori will eat, but...”
“Tea,” Bran suggested. “She drinks tea a lot, right? Get her tea and a sandwich she can pick at. It’s your job to make sure she takes care of herself. And you can’t do that if you don’t look after yourself, too.”
“I’m fine.”
“Humor me.”
They spent precious minutes picking up sandwiches and drinks, and then Bran carried the overnight bags in his hands as Jeremy hit the elevator button taking them to the correct floor. Bran’s pulse accelerated as they headed for the isolation unit; he hated hospitals, and the memories bubbled to the surface simply from the sounds and the smell that was so peculiar to hospitals. But he carried on, knowing that for months Jeremy had been there for him, and it was his turn to repay the favor.
Poor little Rose was in isolation since she was so contagious. Once they arrived, Tori came out, shedding her mask and gown. She looked like hell. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and there were dark circles under her eyes. She appeared to have slept in her clothes, but the relief on her face when she saw Jeremy lit up the room. Bran felt a strange emotion wash over him. It was like just being in the same room together made everything okay. He’d felt that not long ago, with Jess. She hadn’t had to do anything but be there and smile, and the world was forever changed.
He was forever changed.
He put the bags down and went forward to give Tori a hug. “Hello, little mama,” he said softly, giving her a squeeze. “How’s she doing?”
“They’re giving her fluids through an IV and stuff to bring down her fever. We just keep hoping there aren’t complications like—” she took a breath, swallowed, got herself together again “—like encephalitis.”
“She’s a tough cookie. And Jeremy has food for you.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Then save the sandwich for later and drink some tea. He got mint, the kind you like.”
She looked up, and Jeremy was holding out the paper cup. “I got a large. You need to look after yourself too, honey. You haven’t slept.”
“Neither have you.”
He smiled a little. “I slept in the car while Bran drove.”
Bran peeked into the room and clenched his teeth. He couldn’t see anything, but he imagined poor little Rose, blotchy and red, sleeping while an IV was taped to her, delivering fluids and medication. No little one should have to go through such a thing.
Tori sat down and peeled the top back on the tea. The scent of peppermint filled the air. “I don’t want to be out here too long. I keep thinking she has to know that we’re there. I’ve been singing to her.”
“Of course she knows you’re there.” Bran sat down next to Jeremy, and reached for the bag of sandwiches. “Here, you two. Seriously, eat something. And while you’re doing that, I’m going to book you a hotel room nearby. Even if you have to sleep in shifts, it’ll give you a base until she’s able to go home. You can get some good rest and have a hot shower.”
“Bran, you don’t have to do that.”
He leaned forward and met Jeremy’s eyes, and finally said something he should have said long ago. “When I needed you, you were there. Bullying me into eating and sleeping and showering. Sitting with me. This is a very small thing, Jer. Let me do it for you.”
Jeremy nodded. “Okay.”
“Do you need anything else? Is there anything I can do?”
“Not right now. Thank you, Bran.”
He excused himself and went to a nearby lounge to make accommodation arrangements, giving Jeremy and Tori time alone. His thumbs hovered over the keypad, knowing he should send the message and afraid to all the same. He hadn’t had contact with Jess since that day at the boathouse when they’d called it quits.
Still, she’d want to know.
Before he could reconsider, he typed rapidly.
Jess, just letting you know that Rose is in the hospital in Halifax with the measles. I’m here with Jeremy and Tori. Bran.