Can't Lose Me

by Amanda Torrey

  She watched him as he lathered her wet locks, massaging her head as he worked the shampoo into her scalp. His expression remained stoic, but a hint of redness colored his cheeks and the tips of his ears, giving away his arousal.

  He didn’t try to touch her body.

  After conditioning and rinsing her hair thoroughly, he held up a towel for her to step into. She did. Wordlessly.

  She couldn’t stop watching him.

  After wrapping her in the towel, he bent to dry her legs and the tops of her feet. The towel he used grazed the juncture between her legs, but he didn’t capitalize on the thrill he gave her.

  Once she was done dripping, he took her hand and brought her to the bedroom. She slipped between the sheets with her nude and rapidly-chilling body while he turned to get pajamas for her from the drawer.

  She shook her head at the offer.

  He visibly gulped.

  Moments later, he stripped down to his boxers and climbed into the bed beside her.

  He gathered her into his arms and kissed the top of her head.

  “You’ve always taken such good care of me,” she murmured as she kissed his bare chest.

  “We’ve always taken such good care of each other,” he returned, stopping her hand from drifting over the ridges of his muscular belly. “Remember how we stayed in bed for days after the first, you know.”

  Miscarriage. After the first miscarriage.

  She needed him to say the words.

  His arm muscle tightened beneath her.

  He cleared his throat and said, “After the first loss.”

  Close enough! She closed her eyes, relief nearly crippling her.

  “I remember,” she said, resting her hand on the front of his shoulder.

  “I thought that was just a fluke. A horrible fluke. And that the next time would go easier.”

  “I did, too.” Her voice had taken on a quiet, almost childlike sound. Sort of eerie to her own ears.

  “You were so sad. I didn’t know how to handle it.”

  “You took very good care of me, Gabe. I am forever grateful that you were the man by my side at that time.”

  “I didn’t do enough. I pushed you into trying again so soon.”

  “I wanted to! More than anything!”

  “I thought it was the right thing to do. I was wrong.”

  “No.” A tear wriggled itself free from each of her tightly closed eyes. “You weren’t wrong.”

  “I should have given you more time to heal. I treated you like a brood mare. Like it was a mission to have a child as soon as humanly possible. I thought,” he paused, swallowing hard. “I thought that if I gave you a baby, the sadness would leave your eyes.”

  “Oh, Gabe.” She kissed his chest and clutched his arm. She hugged his legs with the leg she had slipped over him.

  “I never asked you how you were feeling about it all because I didn’t think I could handle it.”

  She heard tears in his voice, and though the devastation in his tone carved a hole in her very soul, it also helped to fill some of the empty spots his silence had drilled.

  He was talking about it.

  Because she wanted him to.

  He tightened his hold on her and pulled her painfully close to him. She didn’t complain—the pain was a welcome distraction and a healthy reminder that she was part of his equation.

  “I’m sorry I left,” she murmured, unable to find any strength to lend her voice. “I wanted to make you happy.”

  His heart pounded against her ear, but every other muscle she could feel stilled.

  Maybe now wasn’t the right time.

  But since the floodgate had been opened, she couldn’t dam it up now.

  “Gabe, I know I came back to ask for your forgiveness, but if you can’t—” She paused to hiccup. “I know it’s unfair of me to ask you to give up your dreams. For me.”

  She sniffed and fought the stupid tears again. Where was the strength she had worked so hard to build? Why was she being such a crying weakling?

  “What are you talking about? You are my dream, Kenz.”

  Why the hell did he have to be so perfect?

  She knew he was lying to help her feel better. He could never stand her tears. He had always thought it was his job to protect her from anything that would bring on tears. That’s why she had vowed not to let them loose, but in spite of herself, she couldn’t ebb the flow.

  “You don’t have to lie to me.”

  “I’ve never lied to you.”

  He sounded offended.

  “Remember how you rescued me from those bullies when I was in tenth grade?”

  He grunted a response. “I still think I should have kicked their asses.”

  “No, the way you humiliated them was way more effective. Did you know that the ringleader actually apologized to me in English class later that day?”

  She looked up to see him smiling a knowing smile.

  “Did you make him?” She gasped at this newfound knowledge. “All this time I thought it was his idea.”

  “Oh, it was.”

  “I don’t even want to know,” she joked. Then, turning serious again, “I vowed that I would do anything to repay you for your kindness. I thought we’d be best friends, but you gave me so much more than that.”

  “Kenz—”

  Her throat clogged up again, but she struggled to get the words out before it closed entirely.

  “And though I wanted to, I couldn’t give you the one thing a woman is meant to give.”

  “Kenz—”

  “It kills me. It kills me that I can’t carry your child, Gabe. Aside from you, I have never wanted anything more.”

  He held her as sobs tore through her. Her body shuddered in his arms, but he held her with all his might.

  The storm of her emotions blew out to sea as quickly as it came, but she still hadn’t found peace.

  She took a deep breath and filled in the silence. “I can’t think of anything that would be more beautiful than seeing a baby—our baby. Our baby made with pieces of you and pieces of me. Our baby with our mingled blood. To play the game of ‘whose features will they have?’ To wonder whose temperament they’d end up with. Wouldn’t that be such a magical thing to experience, Gabe?”

  He didn’t say anything. She was dying to know what he was thinking.

  “I don’t want to put you through a lifetime of people asking when we’re going to get around to having kids. To making our family complete. Don’t they know how hard we were trying? Don’t they know how those questions hurt?”

  “It’s none of their business, Kenzie.”

  “But that doesn’t stop them. And, damn. It hurts.”

  “We’ll find a way. Miracles can happen. They happen to people all the time when they think they can’t have kids.”

  “But that’s the thing, Gabe. Every month when my period starts it kills another part of me. When I was away, the feeling dimmed because I knew there was no chance that I was pregnant. But now I don’t know if I can live through that sign of my failure every single month. I don’t know if I can do it, Gabe.”

  “We’ll figure it out.”

  “Gabe, I need you to hear me. I can’t do it. I can’t even try anymore. I can’t lose another baby. The first three miscarriages were awful. But then getting so close with Ariana and then losing her? I can’t go through that again. I just can’t.”

  “Okay.” He kissed her head, then lifted her chin so he could kiss her face. “Okay.”

  “I still have the tiny stretch marks that were just starting to appear. They’re barely noticeable, but I notice them. And while most women dread the marks, I wish they were more pronounced, because they are the only proof that I was almost a mom.”

  “Love, don’t do this.”

  “Can you honestly say you’d be okay with never having a child of your own, Gabe? You’ve built your entire world around the idea of having a family. Sometimes I think you wanted a baby even more than I did. Is
it fair of me to expect you to give that up?”

  He didn’t answer.

  She didn’t want to force him to say something he didn’t mean, so she waited. And waited. And fell asleep waiting.

  And that silence was probably what she needed to know.

  ***

  Gabe didn’t sleep at all that night. His arms were cramped and his soul felt heavy, but he couldn’t release the love of his life from his arms.

  How had they ended up here?

  She was right. He wanted children with her.

  But she was wrong if she thought he couldn’t look past blood and DNA to imagine raising a family.

  He wasn’t good with words. She wanted to hear things from him, but he had no idea how to express his thoughts without somehow insulting her or making her feel worse.

  By the time he had thought of what to say, she was sound asleep.

  Valentine’s Day was only a few days away. He’d plan something special for her. And then he’d pour out his heart. The way she needed him to.

  And things would be perfect.

  Life would be back on track.

  The next morning they both woke up late, so they rushed around in chaos to get to the shop on time.

  Crisis after crisis at work arose, so they had no time to chat over the days that followed. They were both exhausted at the end of each day; especially on the nights she pulled those extra shifts. He didn’t dare to express any concern about her other job, though, as that particular tactic hadn’t gone over well last time.

  And though she looked at him and smiled each time they had a moment together, and though they kissed goodnight each night and good morning each morning, he knew things weren’t yet resolved.

  But he’d do his damnedest to make sure she was happy.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Valentine’s Day.

  Mackenzie had once loved the holiday. The hearts, the flowers, the chocolates, the promises. The pinks and purples, the lace and the satin. All so beautiful. Magical.

  But with a wanna-be-awesome-but-really-rocky-and-potentially-headed-for-ruin marriage, the hearts and flowers decorating the halls of the nursing home tugged at the dying romantic in her heart and strangled the once-hopeful optimist out of her once and for all.

  She glanced again at the text Gabe had sent her, asking if she could get out of work early. He didn’t say why, but he did put a little heart emoticon at the end of his text. She started to respond but got pulled into a Mr. Clark episode. He wouldn’t calm down for anyone, so Betty begrudgingly asked her to work her magic on the man.

  Mr. Clark’s face softened as soon as she entered the room. His face lightened from brick-red-anger to soft-pink-irritation.

  “There you are!” he exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. “I told them you were the only one who could put my slippers on without pinching my damn toes, but they wouldn’t listen. Why won’t they ever listen?”

  He cast a glare at Betty and Kim, who stood behind Mackenzie with their arms crossed over their chests, clearly agitated at Mr. Clark’s difficulties.

  “Well you know that I can’t be here every moment. I have other residents to help, too, and these ladies will be more than happy to listen to you if you are polite and well-mannered. No one likes to be yelled at.”

  She bent in front of him and lifted one of his feet, slipping it into the slipper with care.

  “You’re my wife. You should be taking care of me.”

  She smiled up at him, hoping the sympathy she felt showed in her face.

  “No, Mr. Clark. I’m your friend. And a staff member. But these ladies behind me, the ones you’ve been treating so meanly, are the professionals.”

  “I don’t need professionals. I need my wife.”

  And that was the crux of it. Mr. Clark was lost to an emotional riptide that Mackenzie was also caught up in.

  “I’ll make a deal with you,” she whispered conspiratorially, glancing over her shoulder before leaning closer to Mr. Clark. She rested her hands on his wobbly knees. “I’ll stay and watch one of your wife’s favorite old musicals with you. I’ll go get your favorite chair set up in the TV room while you politely take your meds. Deal?”

  He tightened his lips and growled. Mr. Clark did share some traits with her own sometimes-cantankerous husband after all.

  “Fine. And you’ll make popcorn?”

  She laughed. “Yes. Air popped, no butter. A tiny dash of salt.”

  “Fine. Off with you now. I have to take my meds.” His tone was mocking and severe, and when he made a face worthy of a problematic teen crossed with a chastising father, Mackenzie couldn’t contain her laughter.

  “I’ll meet you down the hall in fifteen minutes.”

  Betty glared at Mackenzie as they passed one another. Mackenzie shrugged. What did she want from her? She got the man to agree to take his meds without a fuss, and if they wanted her to punch out so she wasn’t on the clock during the movie, that was fine.

  She reached into her pocket to grab her phone, needing to tell Gabe that she’d be home a little later than she had thought. He hadn’t mentioned anything about Valentine’s Day, which was unlike him. Back in the day, he would plan a hugely romantic adventure. She couldn’t blame him for not wanting to go through the effort when they were in such a precarious place, but she had to admit that she’d rather be at work than awkwardly wondering what she should do with her husband at home.

  This was a disaster.

  As she unlocked her phone, she bumped into Antoine, knocking her phone to the floor.

  “I’m so sorry!”

  She bent to pick up the pieces, hoping the phone would work in spite of the battery detaching.

  “I heard a rumor you were staying on for a movie night.”

  “Had to make a deal with Mr. Clark.” She blew hair out of her eyes and looked up at her boss. “Is that okay?”

  “More than okay. I’ll go make the popcorn.”

  “That’s okay—you have other things to do. And Mr. Clark is very particular about his popcorn.”

  Antoine laughed and reached out to brush something off her shoulder. She stiffened at the unexpected contact.

  Her stomach flipped over in a way that made her think she might vomit.

  “I’ve got to hurry. If his chair isn’t ready with the afghan folded the right way, we’ll have another meltdown on our hands.”

  Antoine didn’t move out of the way.

  “Thank you for your commitment to our residents.”

  She felt heat rise in her cheeks. “No problem. It’s my job.”

  He looked like he was going to say something, but Mackenzie smiled an awkward-as-hell fake smile as she excused herself and slipped past him, accidentally brushing his arm with her shoulder.

  She felt him watch her walk down the hall, so she walked faster.

  Later, when Mr. Clark was settled in his chair and the movie was more than halfway over, Antoine surprised Mackenzie by coming in and sitting in the chair next to hers.

  She sat up a little straighter and tried to ignore the strangeness of having him there.

  He reached over and grabbed popcorn from her bowl.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she watched the attractive way his eyebrows framed his intense eyes. Admired the sharp angles of his handsome face. He’d make some woman happy someday.

  But she hoped he had received the hint that she wasn’t interested in anything but a working relationship with him.

  They sat in uncomfortable silence until the conclusion of the movie, when Mr. Clark cleared his throat and asked for water. Mackenzie squeezed a lemon in the water for him and brought it with a smile, ignoring the way Antoine watched her care for Mr. Clark.

  “You’re a good girl,” Mr. Clark complimented as he sipped the water. “You must be a very good mother.”

  She died inside, but she smiled and shook her head.

  “Nope. Not a mom.”

  She appreciated Mr. Clark’s moments of clarity, but for o
nce she wished he thought she was his wife. At least then he would be more wrapped up in his past than in her present.

  “Why not? You women these days wait too long and then wonder why you can’t have kids.”

  Heat crept up the back of her neck as she desperately searched for an appropriate and impersonal response.

  Antoine spoke up before she managed to speak.

  “Not everyone wants to have kids, Henry.”

  Mr. Clark grimaced and picked around the remaining kernels on the bottom of his bowl, searching for more popcorn.

  “You made too many kernels this time.”

  “Here, have some of mine.” She refilled his bowl from hers, then sat at the edge of her seat.

  “Are you saying you don’t want kids?” Mr. Clark pointed his gnarly finger at Antoine as if accusing him of a great crime.

  Antoine leaned back in his chair and crossed his leg over his knee.

  “Can’t say I’ve ever cared about having them.”

  Mackenzie perked up, wanting to hear this strange perspective.

  “Don’t get me wrong,” Antoine leaned forward, long legs spread apart and a gleam in his eye. “If I fell in love with a woman who wanted them, I’d be game. But it’s never been a desire of mine.”

  Mackenzie forced a breath into her lungs. Why couldn’t Gabe feel this way? Why did kids have to mean so much to the man who was most perfect for her? The man she loved more than her own heartbeat. The man she wanted to live the fairytale life with.

  Unable to stand the pointed way Antoine studied her along with the intense feelings induced by the prospect of a childless life or a life without Gabe, she excused herself and rushed out of the recreation room.

  She slipped into the first floor restroom and stared at herself in the mirror.

  Who had she become? Who was she becoming? And how the hell could she turn back time and change everything?

  Knowing she had already made a scene by leaving so abruptly, she splashed water on her face and forced herself to return. She’d put Mr. Clark to bed and then go home. To her husband. The man she loved.

  Leaving the bathroom, she gasped when she looked up to see Antoine waiting for her.