Page 81 of Hendrix

“Meant it,” he stated. “Meant everythin’ I said.”

My eyes caught his, and I shook my head disbelievingly. “So why did you leave? How did it go so wrong? One minute, I thought we were fine. The next, you disappeared. Was it the pregnancy scare? Did it spook you?”

His hand stopped halfway to his mouth, and he froze. After a brief pause, he stuffed the rest of the taco in his mouth and chewed, his eyes glazing over in thought. Once he’d finished, he threw a leg over the bench until he straddled it, facing me, and turned my body to face his.

“Gotta confession to make,” he said quietly, taking my hands in his. “You’re right; it was the pregnancy scare, baby, but not in the way you think.”

“Stop talking in riddles,” I told him gently.

He brought a hand up to his forehead and rubbed it thoughtfully. “Okay. So when we first got close, you told me you eventually wanted kids. After a while, things between us grew more serious, and you never mentioned it again, so I didn’t really think about it much after that.” He leaned his elbow on the table and heaved out a breath, scraping his hand across his jaw. “Then you thought you were pregnant, and I saw how excited you got at the thought of having a kid, and it freaked me ‘cause I knew it wouldn’t ever happen for us.”

My heart sank.

I knew it.

My hand went to my belly and rested against it protectively. “You don’t want kids. You said it then, and you still mean it now.”

“No, baby. It’s not that.” His hand came to mine and cupped it against my swollen stomach. “I never said I didn’t want kids. I said that kids weren’t in my future.”

My face twisted in confusion. “Same thing.”

“No, Freckles, it’s not.” He tipped his head back and bit out a frustrated,“Fuck!”before righting himself again and locking eyes with me and announcing, “It’s not that I don’t want kids, Anna. The issue is, I can’t have kids. I’m infertile.”

My entire body locked tight. “What?”

His fingers squeezed mine. “I’ll never be able to get you pregnant, Anna. That’s why kids aren’t in my future. It’s not that I don’t want them. It’s that I can’t have them. I’m sorry. I’ll give you anything you ask of me, baby. I’ll move mountains for you, but the one thing I can’t do is give you a child.”

“I don’t understand,” I whispered, my tone filled with confusion. “Have you always known about this? Or did you find out recently?”

He sucked a deep breath into his lungs and blew it out slowly as if he was trying to keep his shit together. “I was on a mission in Borneo, and we were fired on. I got hit at the top of my thigh. You remember you asked me about the scar?”

Unable to speak, I simply nodded.

“We were stuck in the jungle for two weeks before we got hauled outta there. During that time, the wound got infected. The infection spread to my internal organs and the tract my sperm passes through. If they hadn’t got me outta there when they did, I would’ve died. Luckily, they got me to safety in time, but it was too late to stop the bacteria from spreading into my organs and bloodstream, which caused sepsis.”

“Oh my God, Jamie,” I whispered.

“I was sick for three months,” he went on. “Had to have blood transfusions and a lotta rehab. My legs were affected along with my digestive system. Was on a drip for weeks ‘cause I couldn’t even keep a glass of water down.”

My mouth filled with saliva at the thought of what he’d gone through.

I knew his work in the military was highly dangerous. Seeing him in action showed me how ruthless he could be and how that ruthlessness had to have been born from experience. But hearing him speak so matter-of-factly about what had happened to him and what he’d lost hit me somewhere deep. It was like there was no emotion there, no feeling, not even an opinion.

“I’m sorry that happened to you,” I murmured, my voice catching with emotion. “It must’ve been difficult to come to terms with.”

He shrugged. “Initially, it was a blow, but I’m lucky to be here more or less intact. Some of the soldiers I served with never came home, and let’s not forget the ones like Blade, who lost a limb or the use of their legs. My dick still works fine. It just won’t ever produce a kid.”

“And have you come to terms with that?” I asked, searching his face for any kind of reaction.

His expression remained impassive. “Yeah. Though it seems you need some time to think it over.”

“What do I need to think over?” I asked, a little bewildered.

“Whether you wanna be with a guy who can’t give you what you want, Anna. Look, babe, you’re pregnant, and apart from the initial shock, I’m so fuckin’ happy for ya ‘cause it’s taken the pressure off me.”

My forehead scrunched up. “What pressure? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His words were confusing me more and more. But the meaning behind them began to hit hard with his next statement.

“The pressure to give you a kid,” he admitted. “The pressure to make you a mom. When you had the pregnancy scare, I saw it clear as day, Freckles. It’s what you wanted more than anything. I knew I couldn’t give it to you, and it was hard to get my head around. I’m the kinda man who wants to give my woman her heart’s desire, so knowing I couldn’t provide the one thing you wanted most made me second-guess everything. I couldn’t see the wood for the trees.”

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