Page 18 of Adoring Delaney

We used to all cram into the two small houses and spend a few weeks down in South Carolina, all of us together.

When my mom and dad added Quinn and the twins to the mix, we needed more space. Aunt Lily’s friends Anthony and Adam, whom she’d met when she’d been staying at the beach, sold my parents their bungalow. Which was next door to Uncle Levi and Aunt Blake.

It would be years later when the house next to my parents’ came available and Uncle Clark and Aunt Reagan bought it.

Four houses all lined the beach, each one owned by a member of my family. We came often. We’d also had a blast. Bonfires on the beach, night swims, volleyball games, you name it, we did it. I loved this place.

It was where I’d realized I was in love with Carter.

It was also the place where we shared our first kiss. It was my first, not his. He’d kissed a lot of girls before I’d finally found my courage and laid one on him. It hadn’t gone well.

This was the place where Carter’s father had asked his mother to marry him.

It was the place I needed to be. I was close to family; they were surrounding me. Memories of my youth, the good—no, great—old days. So while I could feel all the love that we’d shared on this beach, they weren’t actually here. Not physically. And I needed that, too.

I didn’t want them to see me like this. There would be no hiding the pain. Not today.

My hands found my flat stomach and I allowed myself to wonder, if he or she would’ve come today? Or would I’ve gone past my due date? Would he look like Carter? Or would she have my mom’s blue eyes, or would she have her daddy’s green?

There was a lot that haunted me about losing my baby, but knowing if it was a boy or a girl was high on that list. Never knowing if I would’ve had a son or a daughter wrecked me. The worst part was like it never existed. No name. No funeral. No place to go visit my baby.

One day I was pregnant, the next I wasn’t and that was it.

Final.

Gone.

“Laney, baby, what the fuck?”

I jolted and my eyes popped open. But as soon as I saw the look on Carter’s handsome face, I wished I’d kept them closed.

“What are you doing here?” I stood.

“Why are you crying?”

“I’m not,” I lied.

Why? Why was he here? Why couldn’t I just mourn the loss of our child alone?

“Baby, I can see the tears still falling.”

“Stop calling me that,” I snapped and did the only thing I could do. I fled.

My pace was quick as I walked up the boardwalk to my parents’ house.

The screen door didn’t snap closed behind me and my temper flared. I turned around and Carter still had his hand on the wooden frame getting ready to step inside.

“We’re not doing this. Get out.”

“We are, Laney. It’s been two weeks and you’re still not answering my calls, texts, or emails. All of which I know you’re getting.”

Two weeks ago after Tuesday and Jackson’s wedding I’d done something monumentally stupid. I’d allowed him into my bed and curled into his body and cried. I was pressed so close I was hoping he could absorb some of the pain, and make it just a little manageable.

The next morning I’d woken up, like I had countless times before, to a cold lonely bed. Carter had left sometime after I’d fallen asleep. No goodbye, no promises. Just gone.

Typical.

I could see how that would’ve been misleading, me allowing him to hold me. But I figured when I still hadn’t taken his calls, he would’ve gotten the hint.

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