Frozen in place by her words, I managed to ask, “What did you do?”
“I walked out.”
~Mia~
“You walked out?”
“Yes.” I nodded.
His eyes were swimming with disbelief and utter confusion. “I don’t understand.”
“I couldn’t do it,” I choked out. “I ran out of that clinic and called my mom in hysterics, screaming that I’d never give up my child,” I turned to look into his eyes. “Our child.”
“I won’t do it, Mom!” I screamed into the phone.
She had obviously expected this, or she just had no soul because her tone lacked any emotion whatsoever. “But what about Garrett, Mia? I thought you were doing this for him.”
“No. Getting rid of our child will never be the answer, Mom. Garrett and I will figure it out together—with or without your support—but I will not do this. I’m coming home.”
“You came home?” he asked quietly.
“No,” I said, the tears creeping down my face as I relived that horrible day. “My mother told me to go to a motel for the night. She said she didn’t want me to drive late at night. I couldn’t believe how quickly she had caved. Little did I know, she had already been planning their move, and she needed a bit more time to finalize everything.”
Garrett nodded. “I remember returning to your house a couple of weeks after you left. I’d already yelled and screamed at all your friends, begging them to tell me where you were, and your parents were my last hope, but they were gone.”
“My parents actually had the move in the works before I dropped the pregnancy bomb on them. After that, they simply sped everything up. My mother was convinced that she would be ostracized by her friends if they ever found out.”
“Why didn’t you ever come back?” he asked.
“I was going to. I couldn’t wait to call you and tell you how sorry I was and how foolish I’d been. After I checked in at the motel, I started to feel sick, and then my sickness turned into blinding cramps. I finally caved and called the front desk for help. Then, they called for an ambulance.”
“You miscarried.”
It wasn’t a question. My eyes met his, and I watched him grieve before me, tears rolling down his face. I crawled into his lap, and we held each other.
“I’m so sorry, Mia. I should have been there. You shouldn’t have been alone,” he choked out, gripping the fabric of my robe like a lifeline.
“It was my fault. I was alone because I ran away. I lost the baby because I ran away.”
He pulled back and sought my gaze. “No, none of that was your fault, Mia. You couldn’t control that. The world just wasn’t ready for her.”
“The doctor said it was my fault,” I sobbed.
“What?”
“They rushed me inside the hospital, and the ER was a madhouse. It was packed, and there weren’t enough doctors for the number of patients. Because of my condition, I was seen right away though. The doctor who saw me strolled in and asked what I was doing so far from home. I didn’t want to lie, so I told him about the clinic, and my last-minute dash out of there. He said I probably miscarried because of the stress I’d put myself through.”
“Is this why you ran? Is that why you never came back to me?”
“It was my fault, Garrett. I destroyed everything, and I didn’t deserve you anymore,” I whispered. I still don’t deserve him.
With conviction, he cradled my face between his palms. “I don’t care what that sorry excuse for a doctor told you, Mia. None of this was your fault. Do you understand?”
I didn’t answer, so he pressed on. “Look at me. I will not let you carry this burden on your shoulders anymore, Mia. Let it go.”
“I can’t,” I said.
“Yes, you can.” He placed a tender kiss on my forehead and silently cradled me in his arms. “Why didn’t you tell me? All those times I stormed out of here, angry with you over what happened, you could have come out and told me the truth.”
“No matter how it happened, it doesn’t change the outcome. Whether or not I chose to walk out of the clinic, I am still the reason our child died.”
“Baby, you can’t keep punishing yourself. We both have to stop living in the past, and we need to learn to move on, but we can’t do that if we’re still being tugged backward. Please, let it go.”
I nuzzled my head in his chest, feeling safe and protected. “I don’t know how,” I answered honestly.
“Can I show you?” he asked.
Lifting my head, I nodded. He smoothed down my hair, letting his fingers run through the damp strands. His head bent down, and he kissed my cheek, lingered over my collarbone, and hovered at my lips.
“You let me love you, every day, forever,” he whispered.
When his lips finally touched mine, I felt every raw emotion he felt being transmitted through our kiss. Love, compassion, desire, and devotion all tangled together as his mouth moved against mine. He untied my robe and slipped it off my shoulders. He kissed the hollow of my neck, and trailed kisses along my collar bone. The towel at his waist disappeared to the floor as he laid me back against the pillows.
“I love you, Mia. I loved you when we were barely old enough to know what true love was. I loved you when you left me, and I’ve loved you every day since. No matter what happens in our lives, that will be the one constant. I will always love you.”
I should have stopped him. As his fingers grazed my skin, leaving a blazing trail in their wake, I should have steadied his hand and told him everything. The story wasn’t finished, and I tried to form the words on my lips, but I couldn’t bring myself to say them aloud.
Would he treat me differently, pull away, or worse…leave?
Unable to bear the thoughts swirling in my mind, I let his touch linger and intensify, as I remained silent, keeping my secret safe for another day.
He took me slowly, making each thrust surge through me like a crashing wave. I wrapped my legs around him, needing to feel him closer, and I savored the sensation.
“I love you, Garrett,” I cried as my orgasm took over, and my body shook.
As soon as the words left my lips, his mouth took mine in a fierce kiss. His pace quickened, and moments later, he cried out my name as he came.
Rather than feeling like we were making up for the time we’d lost, we spent the morning cuddled in each other’s arms as we planned a future, instead of dwelling in the past.