If Only

by Lisa M. Owens

  Scott grabbed the paper bag from her grasp and held it behind his muscled back. “No way, woman. Where’s my reward?” he demanded.

  She sat cross-legged on the bed quietly for a minute, as if she were thinking intently on what it was he could possibly want. “Hmm,” she murmured. “I want my food now!” she insisted.

  He made a buzzer sound, indicating she had given him the wrong answer. “No. Try again. Do you need a hint?”

  Bree pressed her body tightly against his. She could feel his rippled muscles underneath her fingertips. She pouted as she touched his lips with one of her fingers to silence him.

  “Please?” she inquired, her voice husky.

  Scott sighed dramatically as he relinquished the paper bag to her. She pounced on it with a look of anxious anticipation, releasing a squeal when she examined the contents. “Biscuits with sausage gravy!” she cried.

  She perused her husband with a thoughtful look. She lunged toward him, wrapping her arms around him as she exclaimed, “Thank you, baby! You’re such a sweetheart!”

  He chuckled as he grimaced. “Please try to remember that when you’re in labor for eighteen hours.”

  She stuck out her tongue at his remark as she opened her container of food and then poked him in the ribs with her plastic fork. “You’d better pray that doesn’t happen, buddy,” she warned. “Or you’ll be sleeping in the guest room for the remainder of our marriage.”

  Scott threw his body backward onto the bed, resting his arms behind the back of his head. “Do you think it’s too early to begin talking about names?” he queried.

  She placed her container onto the nightstand just long enough to shove his booted feet off the bed. “No shoes on the bed, buster,” she stated.

  He sighed, gazing at her, his expression wounded. “Woman, you wear me out,” he complained.

  Bree winked at him, grinning over a mouthful of food. “But you love me anyway,” she murmured. She watched her husband for a few minutes and then added as she continued eating, “Aren’t you eating anything?”

  He shook his head at her question. “No, baby, I wasn’t hungry.”

  She frowned. “Well, I feel bad now. So you went out just to let me sleep and to get me breakfast?”

  “No, baby,” he claimed. “I had a couple of things to do while I was out.”

  Bree looked at her husband, her expression curious. “Like what?”

  Scott replied, “I ran to the office for a minute to remind Monica we had today off, and then I went to the bookstore to pick up a couple of books. No big deal,” he stated.

  She stuck another forkful of food into her mouth while she watched her husband suspiciously. He wasn’t telling her everything. He was hiding something from her, and she was dying to know what. Deciding to change the subject, Bree asked, “Back to what you mentioned, what names did you have in mind for the baby?”

  He sighed, shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t know. What name do you like for a boy?” he questioned, grabbing a handful of her copper curls and wrapping the loose tendrils around his finger.

  “We could always name him Blake after your father,” she suggested. Scott’s father had died several years before of a sudden heart attack. “And maybe Lucas, after your brother, for the middle name,” she offered.

  “That’s a good idea,” he agreed. “What about for a girl?”

  “I don’t know. What do you think about Ashleigh?” Bree questioned.

  Scott grinned as he murmured, “Why don’t you go ahead and say what you really want to name our daughter?”

  She looked at her husband innocently—a little too innocently. “Why, whatever do you mean, my darling husband?”

  “I don’t know just who you think you’re kidding,” he said. “You and I both know you’re dying to name this kid Mariah if it should turn out to be a girl.”

  She stared at her husband with mock surprise. “Why I never even thought about that!”

  Bree sighed as he glared at her, crossing his arms against his chest. She had to admit it, she was busted. She slowly lowered her gaze. Her husband knew her way too well. Looking up, she saw Scott’s self-satisfied smirk, and she wanted to reach across the bed and smack that smug expression right off his face.

  He reached over and grabbed Bree by her waist, pressing her body up against his as he nuzzled her neck. She giggled as she snuggled closer to him, her head burrowing against his chest.

  “So what are we doing today, my love?” she questioned.

  He reached over and touched the tip of her nose with his finger. “That’s for me to know and for you to find out.”

  Bree was in the process of giving her pigheaded husband a piece of her mind when suddenly her attention was diverted by the changing weather outside. She leaped off the bed and raced to the window for a better look. “Look, Scott,” she said dreamily, “it’s snowing!”

  He watched her with a funny grin on his face as she danced around their bedroom. This morning she had changed into a long-sleeved pink nightgown that brushed against her ankles as she walked. Her bare feet were frolicking lightheartedly across the carpet, adorned with pale pink nail polish.

  She whirled around to see Scott eying her intently. She could only imagine what she must look like. Her hair was probably scattered in all directions, her face all scrunched up and red. She self-consciously tried to pat her hair down as she crossed her arms against her chest. She looked over at him and grinned. Sighing with happiness, she ran into his strong arms.

  Bree felt like she was walking on air as Scott recovered from his obvious surprise and spun her around in small circles, her hair flying every which way. She bathed his face in kisses, beginning at his temple and working her way down to his jawline. She had never in her wildest dreams imagined she could be this happy. She was with Scott again, the man who had always made her feel special and loved. She was married to this incredible man, and she was carrying his child.

  Her life had gone from being a nightmare to being a fairy tale, and while she feared it wouldn’t last, she had never dreamed she could be so happy and fulfilled. It was almost too good to be true. She subconsciously wrapped a few loose tendrils of hair around her finger, twisting them in lazy circles. “Back to names for the baby,” she spoke, her expression dreamy. “How about we name her Mariah Lucille for a girl? After your mother.”

  He nodded in agreement. “Mom would be tickled pink. I called her just this morning and told her.”

  Not paying attention to what her husband was saying, she continued, “I know your mother’s death must have been extremely difficult for you. I wanted to call you, I truly did, but I was just so afraid it would be intrusive and inappropriate.” Nibbling on her lower lip thoughtfully, she questioned, “Lucy didn’t suffer, did she?”

  Scott looked over at her with confusion etched on his face. “What the hell are you talking about? I just spoke to her this morning!”

  Bree continued to nibble on her lower lip as she gazed at her husband. Oh, heavens. He didn’t know. She counted backward in her head and then gasped aloud, covering her mouth with one hand. It was almost Christmas! Lucy had made the announcement about her illness at Christmas while the entire family had been gathered together. From what Scott’s sister, Susan, had previously told her, it had been a miserable holiday for everyone, and it had happened years after she and Scott had broken up. She had been out of the picture by then and married to Bryan. She sat down on the bed, cradling her head in her hands. “Oh, my,” she murmured as she looked at his face. “What have I done?”

  He walked over to his wife and crouched down beside the bed. “Bree, baby,” he whispered. “Honey, do you know something I don’t know?”

  She nodded wordlessly as tears began to roll down her cheeks. Scott’s arms wrapping around her was nearly her undoing. Should I tell him the truth or let his mother be the one to tell him?

  *

  His heart seemed to stop as he stared at his wife in disbelief. He could hear the sound of he
r quiet cries, but it was like he wasn’t really seeing her. His body was numb all over, and his hands started to tremble. Slowly, he sank down onto the bed beside her. Reaching over and grasping her delicate hand in his, he started piecing things together in his mind. Her entire story had seemed so farfetched at first, but now he was beginning to wonder if somehow, some way, what she was saying was really the truth. He knew she wouldn’t deliberately lie to him, but her explanation had just seemed too incredible to be believed. He had thought maybe she had simply had some kind of bizarre dream, but as he looked over at her, it dawned on him that maybe she was only speaking the truth.

  *

  Her husband’s fingers threaded through her own as she took a deep breath, observing his reaction. She could tell by the skeptical look on his handsome face that he was trying to figure out whether or not he should believe her. She sighed as she traced the sharp curves of his face. “I’m so sorry, baby,” she apologized. “I just didn’t think before I spoke.”

  When Scott finally spoke, his voice was gruff. “How did it happen?” he asked with a huge lump lodged in his throat. Even though he didn’t really want to know, he felt like he needed to know.

  She ran her fingers through his short dark hair. “She had lung cancer,” she explained. She gasped when Scott’s hand tightly clenched hers. “She made her announcement on Christmas morning at the breakfast table, from what Susan told me.”

  “You kept in contact with my sister even after we had supposedly broken up?” he asked with an uncertain expression on his face.

  Bree nodded slowly as she cleared her throat. “After your mother died, Susan contacted me. Talking to me seemed to help her cope with the loss. We talked about your mother and what was going on in Susan’s life. The only thing we never discussed was you,” she confessed as her gaze focused on her hands, folded in her lap. “I made her swear she would never talk about you. It was just too painful. And to be completely honest, I didn’t want to know who you were dating or whether or not you had married. I had made my choice, and, as unbearable as my marriage was, I was determined I wasn’t going to come crawling back to you, begging you to forgive me. I was too afraid you would either hate me or laugh in my face.”

  Scott wrapped his arms around her slender waist, hugging her body tightly against his. “I would never have done that,” he protested. “I’ve always loved you, no matter what. You should have known that.”

  Tears filled her emerald eyes as she glanced over at him. “Scott, think this through. We had been separated for years, and I was married to someone else. Your mother had just died, and I show up out of the blue, back in your life again. An ex-fiancée with her husband in tow! And by that time, you were married to Monica. How would she have felt?”

  His brown eyes flashed with anger. “How the hell do you think I would’ve felt? When I needed you the most, you weren’t even there!”

  “But you were married!” she objected.

  He pressed his fingertips to his temples, rubbing in a circular motion. “Honey, this is confusing,” he confessed.

  Bree pressed her head against his chest. “Maybe that’s why I’m here,” she suggested. “To help you through this.”

  He looked up at her, tears blinding his vision. He questioned her, his voice rough, “Are you sure, baby?”

  She comforted her husband, rubbing her hands up and down his back and across the width of his shoulders. “Yes, sweetheart,” she murmured quietly, speaking the words breaking her heart. “I’m sure.”

  Scott’s shoulders began to shake with emotion as he lowered his head. “What am I going to do without her?” He sounded like a lost little boy instead of a full-grown man.

  She didn’t know what she should do. She had never before seen Scott so distraught. Her husband, the love of her life, was hurting, and it was all her fault. She cursed herself under her breath. She should never have said anything. But was it really better for him to be in the dark when she knew what was going to happen? Wasn’t it in his best interest to be forewarned so it wasn’t such a tremendous shock when his mother told him?

  He eyed her as he ran his hands through her curly hair. “Will she be alive to see our baby being born?” he asked quietly, his hands stilling.

  Her heart felt like it was being ripped out of her chest. Swallowing hard, she replied, her voice breaking, “No, honey, she won’t.”

  Scott stood up and without any warning, slammed his fist roughly against the wall. Bree jumped off the bed with a startled yelp as her body began to shake with the recollection of another place and another time … and another husband. Seeing she was visibly shaken, he reached out his hand for her, but fearing him, she turned away without a word. Sighing deeply, he ran a hand through his dark hair. “Damn, baby,” he spoke with pain lacing his voice. “I’m sorry.”

  He cleared his throat as she looked down at the carpeting, refusing to meet his dark gaze. She is afraid of me, he realized with sudden clarity. For the first time since they had been married, Bree was frightened of him. And he wasn’t upset with her, he was upset with himself. He had lashed out at the person he loved the most in this world, his very own wife, for telling him the truth. Scott sighed again as he pressed a hand against the back of his neck. Observing her, he murmured softly, “I need to get the hell out of here.”

  “But you just got back,” she protested softly.

  He threw his hands up in frustration. “I need to get the hell out of here,” he repeated, a blank look on his face. “I need some time to think.”

  “Do you want me to go with you?” she asked.

  He shook his head as he tucked his hands into the front pockets of his stone-washed jeans. “No, thanks,” he replied. He gave her a little half-smile as he saluted her in a playful gesture. After blowing her a kiss, he spoke, “I’ll be back in a little while in a better mood.” He covered his heart with one hand. “I promise. Get some rest, baby.” Giving her a wicked grin, he continued, “You might need it later.”

  She crossed the length of the floor and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I’m sorry I had to be the bearer of bad news,” she apologized.

  Scott’s hands came up to gently stroke the sides of her face as he whispered, “You should never apologize for doing the right thing, Bree. I have an incredible day planned for the two of us, and when I come back, we can get started.” His hands caressed her stomach, cupping her tenderly. “You two lovely ladies get some rest. I’ll be back for you two wild women later.”

  As she watched him leave, Bree pressed her back against the door frame. She stood there for a long while, long after he had already gotten into the car and driven away. She had been so sure she was doing the right thing by telling him the truth, but now she wasn’t so sure. Her heart was still telling her it had been the right thing to do, but her head was telling her something completely different.

  Chapter 5

  Scott unlocked the front door and let himself into the living room with a weary sigh. Even after being gone for over three hours, he still couldn’t make heads or tails out of this whole situation. If anything, he was even more confused than ever. But he had his lifeline. Bree. Just thinking about her put a smile on his face. She would help him through this tragedy, just like she had when his father died. She was his rock, and she always would be.

  “Bree?” he called out as he walked across the living room floor, tossing his key ring carelessly onto the television console. “Bree, baby, I’m home!”

  His steps faltered when he discovered his wife lying lengthwise on the floral couch, sound asleep. A smile spread across his face as his gaze feasted upon her sleeping form. He was the luckiest man in the entire world to have her as his wife.

  She had changed into an off-the-shoulder, cotton-candy-pink cashmere sweater which hugged her delicate curves in all the right places. Her long, slender legs were encased in snug black jeans, which completed the ensemble.

  Scott grinned to himself. She wouldn’t be able to wear that kind of clothi
ng for much longer, so he might as well enjoy the view.

  At that moment, Bree rolled over and released an unladylike snore, almost causing him to laugh out loud. She was now lying spread-eagle on her back, and he found himself fascinated by the sight of her perfectly proportioned breasts rising and falling with each breath she took.

  “Are you going to stand there and gawk at me all day, you pervert?” she queried with an innocent smile. She laughed when he jumped back like he had been stung.

  “What can I say?” he answered smoothly as he gave her a flirtatious wink. “I enjoy staring at a beautiful woman.”

  She sat upright on the couch, tucking her long legs beneath her as she placed a pale green afghan across her lap. Cocking her auburn head in his direction, she folded her right hand underneath her head.

  Bree seemed concerned, her emerald green gaze suddenly focusing on his hands. When his eyes followed her steady stare, he realized what she had been watching so intently was the sight of his hands shaking. Quickly, he shoved both hands into the pockets of his jeans.

  “Are you all right, sweetie?” she inquired, her voice sympathetic and tender.

  Without a word, he crossed the length of the living room floor to where she was sitting and sat down beside her with a frustrated groan. He eyed her without speaking and then pressed his dark head against her chest. She was silent as she ran her fingers through his windblown hair and kissed his forehead.

  Chokingly, he murmured uncertainly, “Bree, baby, I need you. Is that all right?”

  Bree gazed down at her husband, her smile softening. He was staring up at her, his eyes pleading for her understanding. He looked like a little boy asking for his mother’s permission, and she knew she couldn’t refuse him even if she tried. Her heart went out to him. She nodded, reaching her arms out for him.