Worth the Risk (8 page)

The more time she spent with Tanner, the more she ached for him. Old feelings floated to the surface, struggling for purchase. She fantasized of a future with him; however, that’s all it could be—a dream. Molly would tell him what happened and when the weekend ended, they would go their separate ways.

She’d spent two years working at it, but with the help of a therapist she’d dealt with the loss of the baby, her parents, and her brother moving away. She’d done nothing to cause any of it, nor was there anything she could have done to prevent any of it. With the truth out, it was time to move on. Her feelings over the pregnancy and its potential long-term effects had inhibited her from pursuing long-term relationships. The shame and guilt of keeping something so important from the one person who had a right to know left her questioning her ability to commit to anybody.

Molly prayed he would forgive her for not telling him the truth about the baby and the miscarriage. He had a right to be hurt and angry. She hoped after this, maybe they’d be friends. She couldn’t live in the same city and not be friends.

Friends
? Who was she kidding?

* * *

Night folded down around the campground, tucking them into a protective, cozy haven, their tents nothing but dim shadows beyond the rim of light provided by the fire. The background music turned to softer, slower selections, and her friends began to pair off. She envied Sam and Olivia as they stepped beyond the ring of light and turned toward one another, their faces golden in the fire’s glow. They cuddled close, swaying to the music, murmuring soft words to each other.

Tanner appeared at her side and bent down. His breath whispered against the shell of her ear. “Dance with me?”

She hesitated, but nodded and rose to her feet. Taking her hand, he led her a few feet away from the others before pulling her into the shelter of his arms. She laid her head against his chest, closed her eyes and inhaled, storing his scent in her memory bank for later.

He tucked her close. It may have been the drinks she’d consumed, the trip down memory lane, the music…or maybe it was the man. Whatever. She didn’t want it to end, not tonight, anyway. In two short days, she’d go back to the city. Alone. Why not take advantage of this small reprieve? She allowed a deep sigh to travel through her body as she rested against him.

Not a word passed between them for a few songs. Molly found herself daydreaming about unrealistic possibilities when Tanner’s husky voice interrupted her. “Let’s take a walk.”

Her mouth formed a no, but the word never slipped past her lips. If they went off to some secluded spot there was a high probability they would end up making love again. Mistaking her trembling for being cold, Tanner snuggled her closer and rubbed his hand down her back.

She melted at the warmth flooding her. “I’ll just grab a jacket first.”

When she turned toward the tent, she realized only Violet, Matt, and Brad remained around the fire, involved in a discussion on the upcoming municipal elections. The others, she presumed, had gone in search of their own private moments.

Molly fetched her coat and returned to Tanner’s side. He had his own coat, and he’d thought to bring a blanket and a flashlight. Tucking the blanket under one arm, he reached for her hand with the other.

She followed him through the trees to a path leading to the beach. They made the twenty-minute trek in silence, the flashlight bobbing along in front of them, illuminating the trail ahead. The occasional bout of laughter or music from other sites trickled through the trees. They heard the scampering of four-legged animals anxious to get out of their way. An owl hooted from somewhere high above.

The smell of the lake reached her nose before they broke out of the trees onto the sand and crossed to a formation of rocks that crowded the far northeast corner. Tanner made his way around to the other side where a point beyond a small grouping of trees lay bathed in moonlight. At night, it was breathtaking—and private. He swept out the blanket, laying it on the sand and sat in the center. She stood looking down at him for a moment, remembering.

She swallowed, toed off her shoes, and sat down beside him.

For a few moments, silence filled the space between them; only the sound of the water hitting the shoreline broke it. Her mind skipped back to this same beach, this same spot, many years ago. A lifetime ago. “It’s still beautiful here.”

“I want the whole story, Molly.” His voice, pitched low, shattered the stillness. “We always practiced safe sex. I never screwed up. I’m certain of that.” Based on his rigid position, he was trying hard to contain the anger that tinged his words.

She focused her attention on the sand sifting through her fingers. “I know you were careful. It wasn’t anything you did. One of the condoms must have been defective or broke and we didn’t realize it. I don’t know how it happened, but it did. Don’t worry, I don’t blame you.”

She paused to take a fortifying breath before she went on.

“A few weeks before our Christmas break, I realized I had missed my last period. When I checked the calendar, I realized I’d actually missed a few. So I took a home pregnancy test.” She shrugged. “I didn’t want to say anything until I had a chance to confirm it, and I didn’t want to alarm you in case it was a false positive.” She chanced a quick peek in his direction. He sat, facing forward, looking out over the water. He appeared indifferent, but his stiff bearing said otherwise—his full attention remained riveted on her. She returned hers to the sand.

“We were studying for exams and making plans for Christmas. I was heading home before you, so I figured I’d get it confirmed and then surprise you. I went to my family doctor and, well…” She opened her mouth, taking in gulp of cool night air.

“I was getting ready to tell you. I had it all figured out. I even had a little gift ready to stuff into your stocking. Then I woke up a few days before Christmas and I was bleeding.” She stopped talking, and lifted a hand to her face, wiping away a single tear rolling down her cheek. He reached over and clasped her other hand in his. He gave it a gentle squeeze and caressed her skin with his thumb.

“My mom was shocked, but I think she knew what was happening. By the time we got to the hospital I had started cramping pretty bad.” She wiped away another tear. She’d never said anything about that horrible morning to anyone before now.

“I spent a couple of days in the hospital. Mom and Dad were great. They never pressured me to discuss it or made me feel guilty for not saying anything to them…or for getting pregnant in the first place.” She paused again, her breathing a tad ragged.

“That’s why you wouldn’t see me on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day. Or even the day after. I remembered how pale and sullen you were when we finally exchanged gifts. I just figured you’d had the stomach flu.” His head swung around as his gaze sought hers. “Were you still in the hospital?”

She shook her head. “I was released mid-afternoon on the twenty-fourth. But I was in no shape to see or talk to anybody.” She swallowed a mouthful of guilt. “They wanted me to call you. When I refused, they encouraged me to talk to somebody, anybody. But I just wanted to be left alone.” Her breath hitched.

“Why? Why couldn’t you tell
me
?” His speech was raspy.

“I blamed myself.”

“It wasn’t your fault.” His voice wobbled. She fixated on the sand. She couldn’t stand to seethe betrayal she anticipated would be plain as day on his face, in his eyes.

“I believed it was. We were in our last year of university. I had my part-time job at the paper, and I was trying to land that full-time position. I wasn’t sleeping. I stressed about exams and the holidays, and I wasn’t eating right. I figured all that worked against me.”

“You can’t really believe that.”

“At the time, I did. And nobody could convince me otherwise. More importantly, I didn’t
want
anybody to try. I was heartbroken. I’d lost our baby.”

Tanner didn’t say a word for about twenty minutes. In the silence of the night, the softness of his voice, when he spoke, made her jolt. “I don’t like it, but, I guess I can understand. What I still don’t get, though, is why you broke up with me. Even if you had decided never to tell me about the baby, why end our relationship?”

She shifted to face him straight on. “I didn’t want to tie you down with a wife who might not be able to give you children.” A sob burned the back of her throat. Tears pooled in her eyes.

“Not give me children? I’m confused.”

“The doctor said I’d had a molar pregnancy.”

“What does that mean?”

“It’s when an incorrect number of chromosomes are transferred to the baby.” In a voice as detached as possible, she reiterated what the doctor had told her. Ten years later and she could still hear his exact words. “In a normal pregnancy an equal number of chromosomes are transferred. In some cases, the fetus will still develop, but without the proper genetic makeup, it won’t survive. After the miscarriage, they did a D and C—a dilatation and curettage—to confirm the diagnosis and to remove any remaining tissue from my uterus. Apparently, sometimes there can be further complications, even the possibility of cancer. I had to go through monthly blood tests for a year to confirm everything was all right, and I couldn’t risk getting pregnant again until my hormone levels were back to normal.”

“How are you now?” Concern lay heavy in his question.

“I’m fine. As far as I know anyway.”

“What does that mean? Did the doctor tell you that you couldn’t have other children?”

“No.”

“Can this happen again?”

“The doctor said that it was possible, but the risk of it happening was minimal.”

“So if he said the chances are slim, what’s the problem?” His snap of frustration came through loud and clear.

“What if I can’t have other babies? What if I get pregnant and it happens again? I can’t go through that, not again.” She paused, her voice a bare whisper when she continued. “You’ll be a great father someday. You deserve a family. I’m just not sure I’m the one who can give it to you.”

“Life is full of risks.”

“I know. When I found out I was going to have your baby…God, Tanner…I was so happy. I couldn’t wait to tell you.” He reached to put his arm around her, pulling her tight against him. She snuggled into his side.

“Even though my parents and the doctor told me everything would be fine, told me it was nothing I did, and not to worry I’d probably have other children, I truly believed I must have done something wrong or my body was in some way defective.”

“How did I not notice what you were going through? We were together all the time. Fuck, we went to school together. We lived together.”

“I purposely stayed away from you over the holidays, and when we got back to the city, we were caught up in the new term and graduation. I didn’t say much, but I was physically there.”

She peeked up to see him fixed on something out across the water. Tears tracked down his cheeks. She reached a tentative hand up to wipe them away, but stopped halfway there, unsure.

His free hand snagged hers before she reached his face. He lowered their hands to his lap, holding hers tight within his. Swallowing back her own tears, her voice quivered. “I needed to pretend nothing happened. I know, now, that the likelihood may be slim, but there’s still a possibility it could happen again. Back then, I exhibited the classic signs of depression. I let it wrap around me like a blanket, and although intellectually I recognized it for what it was, I couldn’t force myself to get the help I needed. Instead, I continued on a downward spiral, until I needed to walk away.”

“You should have come to me. I can’t believe I didn’t notice my girlfriend was going through that. What the fuck kind of guy was I that I didn’t notice you hurting?”

“Don't do that to yourself. It wouldn’t have mattered. I’d started making other plans…”

“What do you mean? What were you doing?”

“I started looking for a place where I could live on my own.” His body stiffened. “I couldn’t face hurting you any more than I already had—even if you weren’t aware of it. I didn’t want to destroy your dreams too. I didn’t want to wake up one day to see disappointment in your eyes, or worse, pity. I didn’t want you to hate me.”

“You could never disappoint me. And I would never hate you.” He paused. “I take that back. I’m disappointed that you didn’t trust me enough to tell me what was going on with you.”

“I’ve dreamed of having my own children,
our
children. All I could think about was you, and what was best for you. I loved you so much, and I knew you loved me, but I couldn’t fathom the possibility of you one day turning away from me, angry at not having a complete family. Eventually there would be a huge wall between us. So I decided to set you free.”

His voice cracked. “That wasn’t your decision to make. You didn’t even give me a chance.”

She squeezed her eyes shut. God, this sucked. Seeing him in pain sucked. Rehashing all of this now, witnessing his hurt drained her. She didn’t want to go through this again. She turned her head and looked out over the water. The light from the moon lit up the surface.

“I loved you more than anything—more than anyone. Even if that were true, that you couldn’t have children, it was you I wanted to spend my life with. Surely you know that.” He dragged in a shaky breath and let it out in slow measured puffs. “If I can only have you in my life, I’ll be a happy man.”

His use of present tense startled her. A spark of hope bloomed in her chest. She tried to squash it, but it dug in, staking a claim. She had refrained from looking at him. Afraid of what she’d see in his eyes. “I do know better now, but the past is the past, and it still hurts most days. I try not to dwell on it.”

“But it’s new for me.”

“You’re right, and I respect that.” Regret hung heavy in the air and in her heart. “I do, but I don’t think I can help you through it. In fact, I’d rather not. I’m sorry if that’s selfish, but it’s taken me all this time to come to grips with what’s happened in my life. Work is my life now. Frankly, seeing you this weekend…well, it hasn’t been easy. I don’t need that pain in my life again. I don’t want it in my life. I’m trying to move on.” She tried, without success, to keep the wobble out her voice.