Page 32 of Living Hell

TEN

Tyler

“PREGNANT?” THE WORDdidn’t sound right—as if I was saying it wrong. Maybe it needed another n or I should emphasize the g more . . .

“Preg, no, not right. Preggaanant. Is that it?”

Her fascinating brown eyes squinted. “Are you having an aneurysm?”

“Maybe, Iona. Maybe I am. I should sit.”

Iona hopped off the stool and directed me until I was seated.

“Would an aneurysm give you the sweats?”

“No. Let me look at your eyes.” She grabbed my face and pushed my eyelid open. I wanted to blink but my fake fiancée was doing her best as a fake doctor.

“It’s not an aneurysm. Do you feel nauseous? Have a stiff neck?”

I pushed her hand away and moved my head from side to side. No pain. While I was sweaty, I didn’t feel like I was going to throw up.

“No.”

“Perhaps it’s only a reaction to the news of my pregnancy.”

That’s the truth.

I thought back to the time right before she left. She was sick a lot—some stomach bug. I thought Iona was making it up so she didn’t have to see me. That maybe she regretted sleeping with me and couldn’t bear to see my face without envisioning the awfulness that happened between us.

I was horribly mistaken.

“So, uh, did we have a boy or girl?”

This was so awkward. The sweating intensified the longer she took to answer. Thankfully, I wasn’t wearing my work shirt.

She folded her arms and glanced out toward the living room. “I don’t know . . . I had a miscarriage.”

I shook my head and couldn’t stop. “No. Iona, no.” I quickly stood and didn’t care that I felt like a wet noodle, I pulled her into an embrace.

Her body trembled in my arms as she took a deep breath. She went through that without me at her side. I felt guilty and angry and utterly heartbroken.

The silence was shattered by her tiny whimpers. The eighteen-year-old me would have done anything to get her to stop crying. But after witnessing many pet owners lose the animals they loved, some they thought of like their children, I found it was best to let people grieve.

But this was different. This was a living being we both created, something that bonded us together. It died and I wasn’t there to grieve with her.

“I’m sorry, Iona. I’m so sorry.”

“You didn’t cause the miscarriage. Most people don’t talk about it, but first trimester miscarriages are the most common.” She pulled away and straightened, taking on the hardened pose of someone invincible. Iona liked everyone to believe nothing would hurt her, but I knew better.

I reached for a napkin left on the island and handed it to her.

She quickly wiped at her tears and balled it up in her hand. It broke me to see her mask the pain she still felt after so many years. So, I did what I should have done over a decade ago. I reached down and took her in my arms, lifting her.

“What are you doing, Tyler?”

“Taking you to bed.”

I twisted my body so she wouldn’t bang her head as I made my way out of the kitchen and through the living room. Glancing at the stairs, I took a deep breath.

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