Page 98 of Rocky Mountain Devil
There is nothing anyone can tell me that will make me believe that this is part of your plan,she told God. Irefuseto believe it. The world is broken, and bad things happen, and it sucks, but this as your will for two people who wanted their baby so badly?Never.
The door opened and Gabe gestured her in, guiding her to the bedside. He leaned over and gave Allison a kiss. “I’m gonna grab a coffee while Laurel’s here.”
“You should go home and get some sleep,” Allison insisted, adjusting the blankets higher.
“Just a coffee. Doctor said he’d be back by noon. I’ll stay until he sees you.”
Gabe left reluctantly, Allison sighing deeply as the door closed behind him. “That man is going to break my heart all over if he’s not careful.
“He loves you,” Laurel said quietly.
Allison nodded rapidly, tears in her eyes. “Thanks for coming.”
The despair on the other woman’s face threatened to choke Laurel. “I’m so sorry. I know it doesn’t help, but there’s nothing I can say that will make this better.”
“I know.” Allison reached for the box of tissues, grabbed out three or four then passed the box to Laurel who did the same. They took a moment to blow their noses and calm down before trying to talk.
“It’s funny, I didn’t feel as if things were going well this time. I had a miscarriage before Micah, and the whole time I kept denying that this pregnancy felt the same as that one.”
Laurel shook her head. “Sometimes there are no warning signs. Our bodies shut down, and there’s nothing we can do to stop it.”
And if she’d given away too much by sharing that, she didn’t even care. Right now was about Allison, and if Laurel’s secrets needed to be laid out in public to offer even a touch of comfort, she’d face whatever fallout came with it.
Only Allison hadn’t caught Laurel’s slip of the lips. She sat with her eyes closed, her face twisted with emotional pain.
“You know what’s the worst? Knowing I’ll have to deal with the stupid, hurtful comments. The well-meaning people who say things like ‘you’re young, you can have more babies’. Or the ones who tell me to be happy with the little boy we already have. Because as much as I love Micah, it doesn’t mean I haven’t just lost a piece of my heart.”
Laurel held her hand and let Allison talk.
“She was a girl,” Allison shared, her voice shaking as she continued. “And damn if it isn’t the stupidest thing ever, but all I keep thinking of is now I have two babies in heaven with my mom, and I know she’s taking good care of them for me.”
They both lost it.
Laurel wrapped her arms around Allison, and the two of them cried. Cried for what might have been. Cried for the pain of having nothing but questions instead of answers.
Allison and Gabe had lost something precious that day, and Laurel wept for them. But she also wept for herself, because while she’d vowed that she was strong enough on her own, she really wished Rafe knew everything. That sometime before today she’d told him her secrets so he’d be able to comfort her and hold her tight.
To whisper that she hadn’t done anything wrong.
“Do me a favour?” Allison spoke softly, her soul-deep tiredness coming through in the words. “If they keep me in for another day like they were talking about, can you go stay at my place and take care of Micah tonight? I know Gabe is there, but he’s going to want to be with me, too, and Dana will offer to help, but I don’t want Micah over at the…”
Laurel nodded. She wouldn’t want her child in the same house as Ben for any length of time either.
“I’ll take care of everything,” she promised. “You take care of yourself and Gabe, and I’ll do the rest.”
Allison let out a low, slow sigh, and they fell into silence, their hands linked until Gabe came back.
It was time to let them have some privacy, so Laurel got ready to head out. She pressed a kiss to Allison’s cheek. “Let me know if you need me. I’ll be waiting to hear from you.”
The other woman nodded, her gaze darted to where Gabe was hanging up his coat on the far wall of the room before whispering to Laurel. “I don’t care if it’s not official, but to me you’re already a sister. Thank you.”
Laurel didn’t remember leaving the room or heading to the parking lot. Everything vanished into a white-cold haze until she dropped into the seat of her car and sat there, numb, staring into space. It seemed as if every hard and hurtful thing she’d dealt with over two years ago rushed back with a vengeance.
If she hadn’t miscarried,herbaby would have been over a year and a half old now. And the guilt inside, and the sadness she’d faced on her own, sprang up again.
Allison would never have to deal with being alone, and for that Laurel was grateful.
Her phone vibrated in her hands as a text came in.
