“Julia.” Ryan moved closer and gripped her forearms. “What happened to the baby? Did you—” He broke off abruptly, his breathing sounding harsh in the enclosed office.
“I miscarried,” she snapped, lifting her chin to meet his unfounded accusation. She would never…he could shove his thoughts right back where they came from. “I didn’t abort the baby or give it away. I miscarried, Ryan. Christina and Susan found me unconscious in my apartment.” She couldn’t see, couldn’t focus on him, and realized her face was damp. She sniffed, knuckling away the moisture from her eyes. “I didn’t understand how much I wanted the baby until they told me I’d lost it. When the doctor told me it would be difficult to have more children I was devastated.”
“Hell!” He dragged his hand through his dark hair, leaving it ruffled. He took half a step toward her and halted, his arms falling to his sides. “I’m sorry. All this happened about the time I was mugged?”
She nodded, unable to speak past the lumpy obstruction growing in her throat. Her hands clenched and unclenched. He had a child. She groped to deal with the thoughts swirling through her mind, the white noise, the pain of losing their baby. Guilt because she kept wondering if she’d done things differently with her pregnancy. A rush of envy and resentment because he had a child with another woman.
“I can’t…I…can we talk about this tomorrow?” When she glanced at him, she caught his look of anguish and it ricocheted back to her, making her feel as if she rode an out of control train. Nausea curdled her stomach, and she swallowed rapidly.
“Hell.” Apparently his go-to word. His fingers worked his hair until the strands stood to attention, as agitated as him.
His reluctance to look at her forced a cry from deep in her chest. It halted at the clog halfway up her throat.
“Fuck.” His harsh whisper throbbed with pain. “Julia, I’m sorry. This isn’t good timing, but I need to tell you something.”
“What?” Something in her gut coiled tight and kept tightening until she wondered if she might snap and fly apart.
“The mother of the kid didn’t want him. She signed him over to me.”
Her mind whooshed. It buzzed and clanged with frenzied thoughts, with helplessness, with stabs of pain.
A child.
She gasped for air. The reality of Ryan’s son forced raw memories to the surface—memories of her baby, their baby. The stunned surprise on learning she was pregnant. Her initial panic, slowly replaced by the joy that encroached, one day at a time. She’d wanted to be a mother, wanted it so desperately. Then came the sheer black terror of knowing there was a problem, the agonizing cramps in her belly, the knowledge she was losing her baby. She pressed her right hand to muffle her cry of pain, the memories she’d concealed and boxed away ripping jagged holes in her composure. “I…I…can’t. I…”
Ryan stared at her, his lips pressed together, his impatience obvious in his glance toward the door. “I have to go. I’m staying at my old apartment tonight with Caleb and need to get back to relieve the babysitter.”
Julia stared at him, unable to pluck the requisite words from her cement-mixer mind. The pause lengthened. Heck, she didn’t know what she should say or think when grief was jabbing her with pointy spears, bringing back the nightmare in glorious color. Blood. Pain. Concerned faces. Doctors. Pure, blinding white agony and dark days filled with nothingness.
“Right,” Ryan said in a hard voice. “I’ll meet you for breakfast in the morning. We have decisions to make.” His body tense, he hesitated a fraction longer, but when she remained silent, he stalked from the office, closing the door quietly behind him.
The tiny snick sounded like gunfire, felt as if he were closing the door on their marriage.
Julia stumbled to the closest chair, turmoil crashing her senses, nausea still heavy in her belly as she squeezed her eyes shut. She pressed a hand to her chest and concentrated on small, even breaths when what she really wanted to do was crawl under the desk and hide.
A tap sounded on the door seconds later. It opened and Maggie popped her head through the gap. “Connor and I are—what’s wrong?” She hurried to Julia. Connor followed, pausing to close the door behind him.
Julia blinked and, after groping for words to explain, started talking, sparing a thought for the irony. She managed to talk to her friends—the Tight Five—but not to her husband. “I told Ryan about the baby I lost. Blurted it out when he started talking about his son. I couldn’t…I couldn’t… The mother doesn’t want her child.”
“He’s keeping the kid?” Maggie sounded surprised.
“I don’t know. I think so.” She threw up her hands in disgust at herself. “All the pain of losing our baby sort of exploded inside me. I froze, and I…he left.”
“Why didn’t you tell him about the baby earlier? I presume he was the father?” Connor asked.
Julia gave an irritable shrug, angry at herself as well as Connor for stating the obvious. “I know. I know. I should’ve told him, but I thought the divorce would go through. And the longer I left it, well, the harder it seemed to introduce the topic. He told me how much he wanted kids. What was I meant to say to him? You have no idea how guilty I feel for losing our baby. I keep thinking I could’ve done something differently. Maybe if I’d realized I was pregnant straightaway and stopped drinking.”
“Don’t be stupid,” Connor said. “I was there when the doctor told you it wasn’t your fault and sometimes there’s no medical reason for a woman to suffer a miscarriage.”
“Just because the doctor said it doesn’t mean my mind accepts his word.”
“What are you going to do? Where’s Ryan now?” Maggie asked.
“He’s gone back to his old apartment. We’re meeting for breakfast.”
Connor crouched in front of Julia. “What do you want to do? You know—there is another angle to this. You don’t need to be a biological parent to make a good mother or father. You’ve met my stepfather. He loves me, and he has been a damn sight better parent than my real father. Talk to Ryan. Tell him what you’re feeling. Maybe this is a chance to start afresh.”
“But he’s away on tour all the time, and I have the club to run. Neither of us knows anything about children. Our work schedules don’t fit with children.”
“Julia, you’re just making excuses,” Connor informed her bluntly. “Talk to him, tell him everything you’re feeling. Lots of parents work at demanding jobs and still have great kids.”
Maggie sent him a silencing look and grasped one of Julia’s hands. She squeezed it tightly. “No one ever said it would be easy, but you can make it work—if you want. Do you love Ryan?”
Julia gave a jerky nod, not having to think about her answer.
“Then it’s simple. Don’t wait until the morning,” Maggie said. “Go and talk to him now. Listen to what he says and ask questions. We’ll drop you off at his apartment if you want, but don’t leave this until the morning. It will be that much harder if you stew all night.”
The stupid lump in her throat kept growing and wouldn’t disperse, no matter how many times she swallowed. She croaked, “Okay.”
“Promise?” Connor persisted.
Julia gave a tiny nod. “I’ll do it.”
“I’ll tell Susan you’re leaving. She’ll take care of the club.” Connor turned to his wife. “Meet you both out front.”
Half an hour later, Julia stood at the door of Ryan’s inner city apartment.
“Don’t make me come and buzz the apartment for you, Julia,” Maggie said, her tone faintly threatening.
Julia flipped her friend off and squared her shoulders. She pressed firmly on the buzzer. Only then did she hear Connor drive off. They’d been right to wait. Her friends knew she was behaving like an idiot, and the temptation to run might prove appealing. She’d promised Connor she’d tell Ryan everything, even her fears that he’d no longer want her now that he’d learned the truth.
“Yeah.”
She identified the tinny voi
ce as Caleb’s. “It’s Julia.”
When she reached their apartment and tapped on the door, it flew open. Caleb glowered at her.
“About time,” he snapped.
“Can I come inside?”
In one of the rooms to their right, she heard a child crying. “Is Ryan in there?”
Caleb’s mouth was tight with anger. “Kid’s crying for his mother. Heartless bitch.”
Julia followed the heart-wrenching sobs and found herself in a small bedroom, only big enough for a single bed. Her gaze went straight to the child who sat in the middle of the narrow bed. His inky black hair was tousled, curls sticking out on one side of his head while the rest of his hair plastered to his scalp. Tears rolled down his red cheeks, his cries tearing at her. He was little and obviously confused.
Ryan stood by the bed and glanced up when she entered. Frustration and fatigue lined his face.
“Ryan,” she said quietly.
“Julia.” His tone was cool, his expression cautious.
“How long has he been crying?”
“Ever since we arrived home from the club,” Caleb said from the doorway.
“Why don’t you go and get us a drink of some description?” she said to Ryan. “I’ll see if I can settle him.”
Ryan hesitated.
“Go,” she said, turning her attention to the boy. He stared at her with big, blue eyes. Ryan’s eyes. Her mouth rounded in surprise. The boy was a miniature of Ryan, and so obviously his son. The hair. The pale blue eyes fringed by dark lashes. The same shaped face. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”
He took a noisy breath and stared at her. Finally he gnawed on his bottom lip. Julia could see he was trying to work out who she was.
“I’m married to your daddy,” she said, her heart twisting at the tears swimming in those blue eyes. “What is your name?”
“Alex.” He sounded scared, and anger at the mystery mother swelled inside her.
“Are you tired?” A rhetorical question because his thumb had crept into his mouth. “Why don’t you lie down, and I’ll pull the covers over you.”
“I want Eddie.” His bottom lip trembled as he looked around the room.
Suddenly the clues made sense. She scanned the room, her gaze alighting on two bags. In one, she found a battered teddy bear. She held it up. “Is this Eddie?”
Alex nodded, reaching for the soft toy. He settled back, the bear clutched in his arms. His thumb drifted back to his mouth and his eyes fluttered shut. Julia backed from the room, leaving the door ajar so they’d hear him if he woke again.
Caleb and Ryan were in the lounge, both holding a beer and speaking in low voices. They stopped on seeing her, faces blanking, and she knew she’d been the topic of conversation.
“Is he asleep?” Ryan asked.
“He was crying because he didn’t have his soft toy.”
“Hell, I never thought of something like that. He didn’t say. Was there a toy with his stuff?”
“A teddy bear.”
“Thanks. I poured you a glass of wine,” Ryan said, gesturing at the glass on the wooden coffee table.
Caleb stood. “I’ll leave the two of you alone.”
Julia took a sip of the white wine. It was crisp and tart and delicious. She wandered over to the window and made out the brick wall of the building next door before taking a deep breath and turning to face Ryan. “Alex takes after you.”
His expression turned rueful, but when he focused on her there was an edge of caution, as if he worried about her reaction. “It felt like jumping back in time and looking at my reflection.”
“What happened in Sydney?”
He puffed out a breath of air and rose from the leather couch. “I received word of the DNA test results. My lawyer rang with them. As soon as it was official, Alex’s mother delivered him to my lawyer like a damn parcel.” He sucked in a quick breath, anger echoing in his voice. “Her lawyer drew up a legal document, and she signed away her parental rights. Evidently, her fiancé doesn’t want to raise another man’s baby.”
“She gave him away.” Julia struggled to understand a woman who rejected her child because he was an untidy interruption in her life. Adoption at birth—sure—but Leah K had kept Alex until it suited her, then disposed of her son, casually tossing him away in exchange for the man and the perfect life she sought.
“Yeah.” Ryan sighed again and nailed her with a determined look. “I’m keeping him, raising him as my son. He’s an innocent kid. None of this is his fault, and he shouldn’t suffer for it.”
Julia nodded, agreeing with him even as familiar anguish brought a rush of moisture to her eyes.
“Will you stay the night?”
“I…” Thoughts tore through her mind, tangling and tripping over each other. This was too much to take in right now. “No. I need to get back to the club and I want to check on Mum.”
“You’re running away.”
The words, stark and true, drew her up, sparked her temper. “What do you expect? You’ve thrust your son on me without warning, and I feel as if I’ve had my feet ripped out from under me. I need to think, to work things out in my own way.”
Ryan stared at Julia, aware of the fear rushing into him. From the moment he’d seen Alex in the lawyer’s office he’d known he couldn’t walk away. Yeah, he’d suspected Julia would be upset, but he’d thought once she saw Alex and heard the details he’d manage to talk her around.
Fuck, how the hell was he meant to know Julia was dealing with all this other stuff, still grieving for the loss of their child?
Emotions shifted inside him, blindsiding him with their rawness. His hand tightened around his beer bottle while he struggled to find solutions, to battle the pissed sensation he experienced every time he thought about Julia’s confession. Damn it! Giving up Alex wasn’t an option, but he couldn’t lose Julia over this either.
He glanced at her pale face, took in the tense lines of her body. Part of him wanted to draw her into his arms and offer comfort, but her expression screeched back off. Hell, maybe she was right. They both needed time because the other part of him wanted to rip into her, to tell her he’d had a right to know about the miscarriage. It had been his child. His loss too. The familiar twangs at his temples signaled an oncoming headache.
“How long do you need to think?” Agreeing to her suggestion was a bad idea. Time apart was what started this cluster fuck.
She managed to meet his gaze this time, and the grief in her eyes almost buckled his knees. They needed to get past the hurt. Honesty. Yeah, they both needed a good dose of candor.
“I’m worried if I back off and give you too much time to think, you’ll decide divorce is the only option for us.” His words shimmered in the air between them—a softly spoken gauntlet. “The one thing I am certain of in all this bloody mess is that I’ve never stopped loving you. I want you in my life.”
Some of the tension left her shoulders, and she angled her body toward him. “I didn’t realize marriage was so hard.”
A bark of laughter escaped him. “Ditto on that, sweetheart.” Their shared grin, brief as it was, released some of the pressure in the lounge.
“Just a few days,” Julia said. “I promise I won’t run away or do anything stupid.” This time Julia’s manner was easier, and when he closed the distance between them, she didn’t remind him of a wild animal, intent on escape.
He took her wine glass and set it and his bottle aside. “A few days, but we talk every day.”
“I promise.”
Relieved she’d conceded that much, he tugged her into his arms, ignoring the sharp darts of his headache. She relaxed against him and some of his dread dispersed. Something about this woman called to him. Even when his memory had let him down, he’d known she was there, waiting for him. After all that, he didn’t intend to walk away and lose her, but he wouldn’t reject his son either. Alex was the innocent in the middle of the mess, and he had to do right by him.
Chapter T
welve
“Julia, visitors!” The jerk of Susan’s head indicated the entrance of the club.
Julia clicked off the music and her dancers came to an abrupt halt. The newest one at the end of the row gave a sigh of relief and bolted for a water bottle.
“Sorry to interrupt,” Ryan said.
Julia grabbed a towel. “Take five,” she said to her dancers and went to join Ryan and Caleb. Alex clung to Ryan’s hand, trying to hide behind his legs.
Ryan leaned in to kiss her cheek. “I rang Mum this morning to let her know about Alex. She wants to see him, so I thought I’d take him down for a visit.”
She’d wanted time, she reminded herself, biting back her instinctive protest. “For how long?”
“A week. Maybe longer,” Ryan said.
She gulped at the maybe longer, and he must have seen some of her anxiety.
“Our deal still counts. We talk via phone instead of face-to-face. What’s the best time to ring you?”
“Maybe around ten in the morning. Around ten at night would work too.”
“Okay. I’ll talk to you tonight,” Ryan said.
She should say something, but her brain had turned sluggish. Instead she stared at him, one of those stupid blocks in her throat. Caleb made a sound, a sort of a growl, and Ryan shifted his weight, his expression hardening.
“Mum is expecting us for lunch, so we’d better head out.”
Julia nodded. Ryan gave her a quick kiss on the lips, and they were gone.
“The kid looks like Ryan,” Susan said.
“Alex. Yeah, he does.” She clapped her hands, feeling as if she’d made a huge mistake in letting Ryan leave. “Let’s get back to work on the new routine.”
The next morning Julia sat at the breakfast counter, nursing a mug of coffee. Her apartment echoed with emptiness, despite the background music and the cheerful prattle of the breakfast radio jock. She’d gone to bed early for her— around three in the morning—and tossed and turned, finally falling asleep cuddling the pillow Ryan had used. His scent had both comforted her and made her aware of his absence, of how her request for time and space loomed like a mistake.
Past Regrets: Love and Friendship, Book 2 Page 16