Page 19 of The Refiner

He moves then, going around the bed to the other side and pulling up a chair.

“Do you believe them? Do you think she’ll ever recover?” I try laughing. “I mean, Piper is pretty freaking stubborn.”

He sits down, and I look him in the eye for the first time. Those glacier blue eyes are heavy and filled with something I recognize—pain. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you.”

I open my mouth to tell him I expect nothing from him when he pulls out my sister’s hand and kisses her palm before putting it on his cheek.

He was talking to her, not me.

“I’m so, so sorry.”

Even I have my limits, and while I don’t want Astor touching my sister, I know she would, so I let him apologize and warm her hands on his face until he’s finished. “Is it okay if I sit with you for a while?”

It’s so hard to take my pain out on him when he’s like this. Wouldn’t high-class Dr. Astor Potter just take what he wanted? Why is he asking my permission?

I shrug. “I’m sure Piper would like that.”

“Thank you.” He leans forward with his elbows on his knees. He looks so lost, so bewildered. Maybe he really did love my sister at one time—the time before he knocked her up and hopped on a six-month-long cruise.

“Did you see the baby?” I have to know. Did he love her and want this baby with her or not?

That dark head of hair rises slowly. “The baby?”

I nod. “Yeah, you know that little tadpole you shot up into my sister and then nine—well, eight months later for Piper—a screaming, crying mini-you came out.” I flash him a smile that says I know that you know. “That baby. Did you go see her?”

“I don’t understand.” He stands up, his posture rigid. “Piper wasn’t pregnant.”

I get up too because he can’t be the only one standing. “Oh, she was pregnant withyourbaby! All this isyourfault. You knocked her up, which gave her myocarditis, which killed her!” I point an accusing finger at him. “Don’t act like you didn’t know—like she didn’t tell you, and then you ran off, leaving her to handle all the morning sickness, all the heart palpitations—” I wrap my arms around myself as far as they will go, letting the tears fall. “We let her struggle. We let her die alone.”

I don’t even fight when I feel his arms go around me and squeeze. This is the man my sister knew.

“I hate you.” I cry into his chest. “I don’t want to, but the pain of knowing I wasn’t there for her is too much for me to bear alone.”

A gentle pressure settles on the top of my head, and I realize it’s his cheek as he squeezes me tighter, as if he could tuck me away from the world all on his own.

“I don’t want you to be a nice guy.” Grief has swallowed me whole. The long nights watching the machines, and talking to my sister, who will never answer, have finally broken me. “Don’t make it harder,” I plead. “Don’t be who she says you are.”

“I won’t be,” he says softly, the warmth of his breath tickling my scalp. “You can hate me. It’ll be our secret.”

I nod into his chest. “You won’t tell Piper?”

“Never.”

I don’t remember him leaving or at what point I fell asleep.

I woke up in bed next to Piper with a swollen face and… an empty bag.

And the book—the proof that Astor is a lying bastard—is gone.

Astor

Dear Astor,

I knew you would need proof, especially from me. I violated your trust, and I’m so very sorry.

But I’m not sorry about this baby.

With time, I know you won’t be either.

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