Page 3 of One More Kiss

She rounded the corner from the hall that led to her bedroom. She was showered and dressed, but her expression was wan, her eyes too big in her hollowed-out face.

“Good morning,” she said, but I knew the words were polite, not because she thought the day thus far was good.

I studied her for a long moment before I headed toward the leather couch. I settled there and offered her the other mug.

“It’s Steve’s recipe, which I hate to admit is better than mine,” I said.

She hesitated before moving forward, the lethargy of sadness clinging to her muscles.

Jenna had a sweet tooth, and, as I’d hoped, she sipped the drink. She closed her eyes and exhaled. But it was soft, not her usual gusty one.

“After Jensen died, I hated mornings,” I said. My tone was light, conversational, but Jenna paused mid-sip, her brows tugged low over her nose.

“I don’t want to talk about how I failed to carry our baby,” she mumbled.

“We aren’t. I’m telling you about how I’d pull the covers over my head and cry until I was hoarse and my head ached as much as my heart.” I paused, waiting for Jenna to drink again. Once she did, I continued. “I would have stayed in that bed—Jensen’s and my bed—and wasted away if it were just me. But, I’d just found out I was pregnant, and I had the boys needed me to eat for them. To move for them. So I did, and I hated them for it almost as much as I loved them.”

Jenna set her mug on the coffee table and pulled her knees up to her chest. She wrapped her arms around them and dropped her chin onto her knees. She looked so young, vulnerable, and small. I couldn’t help myself, and I brushed back the soft blond strands from her pale cheek. Jenna was mine but only because she was Cam’s. Still, I loved that girl silly and I made sure she knew it.

“I know what you’re doing, and yes, I’m sad. Really sad that we lost…” Her chin trembled and tears slipped down her cheeks. I knew Jenna well enough to know that, for her, crying was better than bottling everything up, going to a place where she was too closed off for anyone to reach, including her husband who felt every one of her hurts as if they were his own.

My heart rate evened out and I puffed out a sigh. While I ached for her, and for Cam, they’d get through this. Before, when Jenna had shut down, even shutting Cam out, I wasn’t so sure. Not with Cam’s guilt eating at him.

Getting Jenna to let some of the pain go meant Cam would hurt less, too. I couldn’t do much, but I could do this for them.

“I’m so sorry that happened to you, my lovely girl.”

“Me, too.” She sniffled. “But I’m so angry at myself—at my past choices—that made my body fail me. Fail Cam.”

“Oh, sugar pie, you didn’t fail Cam. In fact, he’s in my kitchen, beating himself up with wallops of guilt thinking he failed you because he asked you to try for another child.”

Jenna’s hands fisted, and her eyes turned fierce. Jenna would always protect Cam and Cash. “I’ll talk to him.”

“Good.” I scooted over and wrapped my arm around her shoulder, just as I had for her husband earlier. “Want me to call your mama?”

Jenna sniffled. “No. I want you. And Cam. And Cash. I want…I want to not feel so broken. I hate this.”

And she sobbed. But these were healthy tears. I held her, adding a few of my own, until she wore herself out.

“Mama?” she asked, her voice raspy.

“Yes?”

“Do you think… Am I greedy for wanting another baby?”

“No, sugar pie, you’re not. You don’t yet feel your family is complete, that’s all.”

She raised her head and licked her lips. Cam would be beside himself if he saw her now. Jenna’s face was red, splotchy, her eyes puffy and bloodshot. But her expression was calmer. Her body wasn’t drawn as taut, as if waiting for the next blow. She was doing the hard work of accepting, and I wished more than anything I could take that burden from her.

“How do you know? When your family’s complete?”

“Well…” My chest ached. I looked down at my hands wrapped around the travel mug. I didn’t recognize them sometimes. They were older, age-spotted, and dry. “I don’t rightly know. I…er…well, I never got to that feeling myself.”

Jenna’s eyes widened. “You wanted more kids?”

I smiled. “Oh, I could have had a dozen. I loved the diapers and midnight feedings and ripped knees and the hooting and hollering while the boys bulldozed down the hall. Well, Cam bulldozed,” I added with a soft smile. “Carter followed.”

Jenna smirked. “Sounds like my man.” She picked up the mug and took another long drink. She rested it on her chest before turning back to me. “What aren’t you telling me?”

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