Authors: Shiloh Walker
Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Contemporary Romance
No Longer Mine (9 page)
This is too much
,
she thought desperately.
Too much.
47
Shiloh Walker
Harshly, she said, “You turned out to be everything I hate in people. You betrayed me. You lied to me.”
Wade flinched at her words like she had slapped him. And then she turned her back on him, staring out in the trees.
Nikki’s words lashed at him, pouring salt into the still-open wounds of his heart. His guilt over what had happened had never eased, but he had succeeded in burying it. Now it returned in full force, making his gut clench and his throat constrict. Reaching for her, he started to speak, “Nikki—” But she cringed away from his hands.
Nikki flinched away when he turned her around to face him. “I don’t want you touching me, Wade,” she said, her voice thick. “I don’t want you here. So go away.” Without waiting to see if he listened, she edged around him and headed for the door. Without sparing him one last glance, she disappeared inside the house and locked the door behind her.
Well, that went rather well.
He cursed himself as he drove away, shaken. He hadn’t meant for it to go quite like that. He certainly hadn’t expected to see a cold, quiet woman in place of the stubborn, hot-tempered girl he had known.
She was just a shadow of herself, her eyes sad and distant. He couldn’t see any of the thoughts going on in her mind.
He had always been able to read those eyes, know what was going on in that quirky mind of hers. It was very disturbing to look into those eyes now and see nothing. Absolutely nothing.
Hell, Wade. What did you expect? Did you think she would throw her arms around you and tell you
how much she had missed you?
While he hadn’t been expecting it, he had been hoping for a warmer reception than he had received.
Damn optimistic fool.
48
Chapter Seven
For three days Nikki existed on catnaps. When she finally crashed the nightmares had her waking in the night, screaming, fighting, struggling with a seatbelt that no longer held her pinned in the seat, fighting to get to a child she had buried three years earlier, while the father who had never known his son stood by and watched with emotionless eyes.
The nightmare had been so awful, now she feared closing her eyes again. Working was impossible.
Eating was impossible.
Thinking
was impossible, and she knew she needed to snap herself out of it.
She couldn’t let seeing Wade do this to her—she couldn’t. Not if she wanted to stay anything even resembling sane.
Sometimes it seemed her grasp on sanity was already pretty tenuous, and she knew if she didn’t get a grip that grasp would go from tenuous to non-existent.
The best thing, the logical thing to do was push him out of her mind.
Stop thinking about Wade. Stop
thinking about the little girl. Stop wondering… Stop thinking about Jamie, what had happened
.
It didn’t concern her, after all.
None of it did.
But she couldn’t help it.
Staring out the window, her computer sitting untouched behind her, she rested a hand on her flat belly and wondered, unable to stop herself, if Jamie had felt that amazement, that joy, that
fear
when her tiny little baby had moved inside her for the first time. Had she cried when the ultrasound showed a healthy baby? Had she cried when she had learned she was pregnant, carrying the baby of the man she loved more than life itself?
Nikki hadn’t cried. She had been too stunned, too shocked.
Then
“Nikki, I don’t think you understand the gravity of the situation here,” Dr. Moriarty said, his eyes kind. “You almost waited too long to come in here. You’re in bad shape. We can help you, but the baby…” Logically, Nikki knew he was only telling her what was best for her. And it wasn’t like she had exactly
come
in either.
That was the worst of it.
Shiloh Walker
She’d collapsed, passed out right in the middle of the living room. Her dad had called
911
and she had ended up in the emergency room, where she was informed about something she had never, never had expected to hear.
She was pregnant.
And she was in almost the worst physical shape imaginable on top of it.
“No,” she repeated for the third time, her voice shaky, practically soundless. She sat motionless on the exam table, wearing a shirt that had fit her months before, but weeks of depression had sapped her appetite and she had lost far, far too much weight.
“Nikki, listen to me. You have developed an irregular heartbeat, something that’s due to your malnourished state. Collapsing the way you did was nothing short of miracle, because it forced you to get medical care. We can help you—you’re young, and up until recently, you were very healthy. Despite your current condition, you’re strong. But that baby…according to the information you’ve given me, you are well over three months pregnant. You are severely underweight, badly malnourished. I imagine the blood work will show that you have all sorts of electrolyte imbalances, vitamin and mineral deficiencies.
“If this was just you we were talking about the problem would be fixed easily enough. We can get you healthy again, but it’s too late for that little baby. The first three months are critical. I seriously doubt you could even carry it to full term. If you did, the child could have numerous problems, mental and physical handicaps. The first trimester is the most important time for a fetus development-wise. That is when the groundwork for a healthy baby takes place. Your baby’s groundwork is…precarious. It probably wouldn’t live very long.”
Her father stood staring out the window, hands buried deep in his pockets while they listened to the doctor. As he reached up, patting his pocket, she knew he was craving a cigarette, that he could practically feel the smoke burning its way down his throat, soothing his shaking hands.
And a drink, he probably wanted a drink. She wanted to feel angry about that, but she couldn’t. She just couldn’t. She was having a hard time feeling much of anything. It had been that way for the past three months. She felt nothing, not even the anger, not even the self-disgust part of her
wanted
to feel for letting herself sink this low.
She felt nothing… No. That wasn’t entirely true. She did feel something now. She wasn’t entirely sure what it was, but whenever she rested her hand on her belly and thought about the little life there, she felt a strange mix of fear and delight. And hope…
There was a baby in there…her baby. Wade’s baby. A child they had created together, a child struggling to live, despite her not taking better care.
She couldn’t get rid of it. Everything inside her screamed out even at the thought of it.
“Nicole, are you listening to me?” the doctor asked, his voice gentle.
She nodded. “Yes.”
50
No Longer Mine
“Do you realize what I’m telling you? This pregnancy could put a strain on your body. One that could kill you. You are not healthy. Your body has probably forgotten what it’s supposed to do.” The doctor paused, his expression grim, as though he wasn’t sure he’d explained himself well. As though he was convinced Nikki didn’t understand what he was telling her.
She did though. She understood exactly what he was telling her.
“I understand, Dr. Moriarty,” she said, meeting his gaze although it was hard. It had been weeks, longer, since she had made herself talk to anybody, even her brothers, even her dad.
“Do you? Do you really?”
“Yes.” She licked her lips and nodded. She lowered her gaze, studied her hands, a bit stunned by how thin they were, how frail. She’d done this herself. She’d done this…let herself just fade away.
Like your mother
,
she told herself.
Now
the self-disgust made an appearance. Setting her jaw, she looked back at the doctor. “Up until this fall I was a student at the University of Louisville’s School of Nursing. I’d planned on specializing in neonatal nursing or pediatrics. I do understand, and while I realize I don’t look like somebody capable of taking care of herself, I know how serious this is, and I know in all likelihood that I probably won’t be able…able to carry this baby to term. But I can’t have an abortion. I can’t.” The doctor sighed, smoothing a hand down his tie. Then he slanted his eyes toward the quiet man waiting by the window. “Mr. Kline,” he said, trying a different tactic.
Jack Kline looked as though he’d aged ten years since he’d stepped inside the office, but the look in those eyes was resolute, every bit as unyielding as the look in his daughter’s gaze.
“She’s made her choice, Dr. Moriarty. I’ll support her, regardless of the outcome,” he said quietly, his voice gravelly and rough from the years of abuse he had heaped on it.
Sighing, the doctor rubbed the back of his neck. “Very well. It’s your choice. I’m going to refer you to Dr. Gray. He’s new in Somerset, practiced in Louisville for quite some time…”
“I completely agree with Dr. Moriarty,” Dr. Gray said as he pored over the blood work and ultrasounds he had been sent. Wire-rimmed glasses perched on a thin blade of a nose, while wide, intelligent blue eyes studied the records and lab results.
“This is going to be extremely risky. Nikki, he wasn’t lying when he said this pregnancy could kill you. You’re malnourished. You have an arrhythmia. According to your physical from your previous physician in Louisville, you didn’t previously have one, so we’re going to have to assume this is a new development.
“Do you understand what that means?” he asked, studying her with intense eyes.
51
Shiloh Walker
Nikki sat on the table and struggled not to give in to the urge to lie down, to rest. She was tired, so tired. But being tired, hiding away and sleeping were the reasons she was here. Ever since she had walked away from Wade three months ago, she had been hiding. Hiding, sleeping, pretending the outside world didn’t exist, and look where it had landed her. Look what it had done to her. Look what it might do to her baby.
She was done with it.
She hadn’t ever been weak before and she was completely disgusted with herself for what she saw in the mirror now. So instead of lying down on the table, she sat up and held the doctor’s gaze.
“I have to try,” Nikki said softly. “I know there are options…for others. But there aren’t options for me. I have to try.”
Sitting on the wheeled stool in front of the exam table, Dr. Gray took her hand. “You understand, I can’t guarantee anything. I can’t even guarantee your own safety should you continue with this pregnancy.”
“I know,” she said, forcing herself to smile.
“It’s going to be an uphill battle no matter what.”
An uphill battle didn’t quite describe it.
She went nearly a month overdue, delivering at forty-three and half weeks. Jason was small, but he was perfect. Alive, healthy and hers.
Hers…and Wade’s. Conceived in a fit of fury and desperation that last time in the woods. Conceived while pleasure racked her body and agony tore its way through her broken heart.
If she were stronger, if she were any less selfish, maybe she would have told him.
But she couldn't. The wounds were too raw.
He was married now—married to Jamie and they had a little girl. One of Shawn’s friends from Louisville had heard the news. Nikki had overheard him tell Dylan and Dad.
No. Jason was hers and only hers.
Now
Nikki came back to herself slowly. Her eyes were dry and burning, the pain she felt too deep for tears.
Crying brought her no release. Beneath her questing hand her belly was smooth, flat and hollow. She felt horribly empty.
The room down the hall stood with the door closed tight, the toys untouched, the crib unslept in and the laughter forever silenced.
52
Chapter Eight
Avoiding Wade became habit.
She saw him in a store—she left. She saw him walking down the street—she turned around and went the other direction. Sometimes he let her get away with it. Other times she had to ignore him until he gave up.
It was easiest when he had his daughter with him.
He didn’t seem to want the kid to realize there was a problem.
So it was easier…in some ways.
In other ways it was harder.
So much harder. The girl’s dark eyes, her dark hair, even her smile, everything about her reminded Nikki of Jason. Everything. Part of her wanted to cradle the child close. Another part of her wanted to get as far away as possible.
If she had thought about it for even five seconds, she would’ve realized the Fourth of July parade in the small town was exactly where she was likely to run into the little girl, and she never would’ve left home.
By the time she figured it out, it was too late. She was too late and cornered by a pint-sized kid on a mission.
“Why don’t you like my daddy?”
Cornered. On Main Street with Abby Lightfoot and no sign of her father in sight.
Why me?
“Well?” the little girl demanded impatiently, her hands going to her hips in a gesture that mimicked her father’s.
“Uh,” Nikki said, uncertain what to say. “Uh, who said I didn’t like him?”
“Anytime he tries to talk to you, you take off. That’s not very nice,” Abby informed her, her face prim. Polite.
Despite herself, despite the turmoil in her heart, amusement curled inside her. Reaching up to scratch her nose, Nikki hid her grin. She could see the hand of Wade’s mother in this child. A very precocious child too. Geez, what sort of four-year-old was this?
Shiloh Walker
“Just where is your dad? I don’t see him and I don’t think he wants you running around by yourself,” Nikki said, kneeling and looking the little girl in the face. The girl smelled of baby lotion, candy and innocence.