Page 27 of Loving You Always

“I’m sorry about the baby.”

She looked back at him, her composure wilting around the edges until it disappeared all together, leaving tears like standing water in her eyes.

“I don’t know what else to say, so I’ll just leave it at that.” He refused to look away from her naked pain. She hadn’t flinched at his when his mother died. “I’m sorry, baby.”

Chapter Eight

Baby. He’d called her baby.

At Walsh’s endearment, the tears Kerris had checked welled over, the salty wetness stinging her face where angry scratches remained. She swiped at the tears, dismayed when still more leaked out, refusing to be dammed. After months of feeling the baby—a girl, she had found out—move around inside, she felt so alone with her empty womb.

Walsh strode over to the door and turned the lock. He crossed back to the bed, shocking her when he carefully climbed up beside her unplastered right side and slipped his arm beneath her. It was the most awkward, uncomfortable…tender and cathartic embrace she had experienced since that night in the gazebo when he’d baptized her in her own tears. She’d shared the tragedy of her past with him, of how TJ had violated her. Walsh had called her a miracle, healing places she’d thought beyond anyone’s touch.

She leaned her head into his strong shoulder, startled by the sound of her own wrenching sob. Her fingers clutched the sleeve of his shirt in a desperate claw. She burrowed into him, feeling some measure of peace for the first time since she’d opened her eyes to the debris of her life.

This should have been Cam sharing her pain, reaching in to soothe her heartache. She knew it, but couldn’t bring herself to pull away from the man who seemed to always provide the perfect solace. Cam had slipped into the room earlier that morning and she had pretended to be asleep. He had stood silently over her, his guilt, his anger, his resentment, almost palpable. She had breathed it in, feeling it course through her barren soul, leaving a noxious trail in its wake. So her eyes had remained closed in a cowardly game of opossum.

“We didn’t know it was a girl,” she said into the silence Walsh’s comfort had allowed her. “We hadn’t even chosen a name.”

“You hadn’t thought of anything?”

“Well, I thought…maybe after Cam if it was a boy, and if it was a girl…”

“If it was a girl…”

“Amalie.”

Walsh leaned back to glance down at her, a small smile settling on his face.

“That’s beautiful.”

“Different, huh?” Her voice broke in half on the words.

“Perfect.”

“Did they…um, do you know if they put a name on the death certificate? Or the grave or anything?” She held her breath, waiting to hear the name her little girl had carried with her to the other side.

“No, you were still out, and I think they’ve left it blank.” He frowned. “You and Cam haven’t talked about any of this? I know only because Meredith mentioned it.”

“We, um, haven’t spoken.” She squeezed the bridge of her nose. Even that ached, along with every other part of her wrecked body. “He came this morning, but I was asleep.”

“Oh.”

Walsh packed so much into that small word, and she ignored every bit of it. He was the last person with whom Kerris could discuss her marital problems. She leaned her throbbing head heavier against his shoulder.

“I don’t want to be here.”

“In the hospital? You may be going home next week.”

“Not the hospital.” She fiddled with the matching bracelet encircling his broad wrist. “Here. Alive.”

“Don’t say that.” He grabbed her trembling chin between his thumb and index finger, less gentle than she would have expected.

“It’s true.” She couldn’t look at the harsh planes of his face. Fresh tears tracked down her cheeks. “I wish I’d broken to pieces against that tree.”

She gave in to the tears, her shoulders shaking and despair rattling her chest with every choked cry. Walsh touched the hair she knew must be limp and dirty by now.

“Kerris, remember when I was kidnapped?”

---