“You were the one who asked. I said yes.”
My world turned upside down again. “I mean, it's the right thing to do. But I didn't know you'd lied to me.”
“I didn't lie to you. I speeded things up a little bit. We would have gotten married in the next year or two.”
“No. We...” I shook my head, suddenly realizing everything, mortified by my own naivety. “You knew I was going to break up with you!”
“You'd hinted at the possibility. I got tired of begging and the price of shrimp and chardonnay was getting obnoxious.”
I wouldn't have called what he did grovelling. More like groaning followed by a period of time where he would do everything I wanted so I didn't have a reason to break it off again. The desire for company had gotten to my head every time I told him I meant it this time. I'd been growing more certain that we were wrong for each other. He had to have picked up on that and decided to corral me into a permanent arrangement.
“I don't know if I want to be married to you now.”
“Why, because I lied?”
“Yes. That was wrong on so many levels. Especially one that changes my life like this.”
He tipped his head, not in the least bothered by my words. “If you felt so strongly, why weren't you on a pill?”
“Because, money. The appointment alone is pricey, and the added cost of a prescription...” That, and we weren't so frequently together that I thought the cost was justified. “I told you this.”
“Yes, you did. And yet you would have paid for an emergency visit?”
“Yeah,” I said, speaking slowly so he understood, “the cost of a visit is a whole lot less than the cost of this.” I jabbed a finger at my stomach.
He popped open a beer. “And how do you plan to pay for it if you don't marry me?”
Cold dread went through me. He had a point. I barely fed myself, booming client list or not. My housing was the only one I could afford, located an expensive commute away from the nearest jobs. The whole area was in economic depression anyways, with people far more qualified than me recently laid off work. As I had not worked two years full-time at the same employer, I was disqualified from all social safety nets such as unemployment checks. The state I lived in even made abortions illegal last session. Not that I considered it an option, though. I was every ounce in love with this baby that I wasn't smitten with its father.
If I didn't marry him I'd be forced to turn to my parents, who would find out about this child one way or another eventually. I doubted they'd hand out money. They might offer to let me live with them, but every second along the way they'd be harassing me to marry the father. And he would be sure to play the charming, sweet man he was when he knocked me up, so my refusal would be written off as irrational.
I phrased my dilemma very elegantly with, “I need to go piss. Don't think this is over.”
“Trust me, honey, it's already done.”
I'd have cursed him if I could have. But back then I was still cursed myself, rendered magicless. I went to the bathroom, feeling very much like a pregnant lady with a growing body pressing against my bladder.
That's when I found out.
I remember panicking. Telling him we needed to go to the emergency room. Now.
He was confused.
I was bleeding.
A lot.
He'd hurried for his truck, truly frightened. By the time we were on the highway, I was in little short of hysterics.
Mordon stirred in the bedroom, groggily wandered into the kitchen, and started to heat water for some brew. He came to where I was watching the sun rise over the sleepy canyon bottom with its stirring sheep and farmers. He slid his arm around my belly. “Morning, beautiful momma.”
He couldn't have struck me in a more sensitive place if he'd tried.
“Don't call me that.”
Mordon's arm tensed. I'd never used that tone on him.
I hated the belly touch. Almost as much as I hated that Anna liked to be held against the breast which had grown before the other one had a chance to match it. My fragile grasp on control splintered. “Let me go.”
He did.
I was aware that he watched as I switched Anna from one side to the other, causing a muffled murmur of complaint. Ultimately she didn't cry, just required some back strokes in compensation. She wasn't asleep but she was content.
Mordon approached, quietly but confidently. He laid a hand on my shoulder. I recoiled from the touch, wanting nothing more than to be left alone until I could lock down all the things Anna's presence had made me feel.
The injustice of the situation burned. I'd been so determined to care for the last one. I'd been willing to sacrifice everything for it, I'd been busy making plans for how the rest of my life would unfold in this new direction. When the last one had died within me, I'd adjusted again to being the mother of a dead child. One that no one else knew about, or would even consider a child to begin with. To the world, I was not a mother. I'd never had a child. The doctors themselves barely considered me pregnant, and reminded me that at least I wasn't far along.
So I'd taken on that stance, too. Decided that if no one else thought it had really happened, there was no reason for me to be plagued with the knowledge, too.
Mordon may tease and it may be fun, but now that I was faced with the reality of the situation, I felt disgusting. As if he were withholding out of a secret thought that I wasn't enough the way Sam had withheld after the incident.
Also threatening was that Mordon held the ability to take Anna away if we were to break up. Any court would pass the child off to the person with financial stability and a solid family life.
I felt so ruined and so used, like I hadn't accomplished anything over the years. Failure to fly the nest. Another person who'd died due to me.
“Fera, what is wrong?”
I didn't want to look at him. Not even when he put one hand on each shoulder and rotated me to face him. Stiffly, I turned my head and blinked hard.
The sun was peering over the lip of the canyon now, too bright to continue staring at. I gazed at the frame holding the big windows in instead, and was reminded of that fateful night when I'd let Railey into my bedroom. My lip quivered.
Mordon said, “I can wait a very long time, and your arms are going to get tired sooner or later.”
I realized he wasn't going to go away. Not until I said something. I cleared my throat. “I really don't want to talk about it.”
“I know. I have not seen an emotional shutdown like this from you before.”
I relaxed fractionally, enough to glance at him. His face was soft in the morning light, his eyes equal parts concern and curiousity. I cleared my throat again. “Can we forget this happened?”
His brows shot up, intrigued. Wrong thing to say.
“What did happen?”
“Nothing. I'm fine.”
“I have seen you in various conditions, and you are not fine now.”
I snapped, “Look, it's nothing you can fix. It's nothing you did. It's just some dumb thing that happened in the past that shouldn't have.”
He considered what I said, frowning. “This is not about Railey. It is something closer, more personal.”
“Stop digging.”
“I will once you tell me what has you upset.”
“I don't want to talk about it.”
“I do.”
“It's none of your business. Butt out.”
He cocked his head. “Why are you hurting so much?”
That question went straight to my heart as if he'd plunged an icy blade through my chest. Tears sprung to my eyes. “Why don't you want to make love to me? If I'm not enough for you, why are you keeping me around? Is it to stroke your ego to lead me around by a pinkie finger? Or does it give you some kind of power trip to have me mooning after you like a lovesick puppy?”
His brows shot even higher and he stared at me for a second in utter confusion.
Stepping back, I escaped his
grasp and started to shake. I gently rested Anna on the pile of blankets on the floor. My hands trembled. I clenched my fists, trying to regain some control.
Calmly, Mordon said, “Turn around and face me, please. I do not wish to speak at your back.”
Not seeing a way out of it, I did as he asked and felt all the more a fool for it.
I could tell I'd hit him in a place I shouldn't have.
He said, “You have boundaries which I respect, and similarly you must respect my own boundaries. As for the rest of your questions, they do not require an answer. They are personal attacks which I am quite frankly astonished to hear you use.”
What I'd said to Mordon found a place in my head, slowly registering. A cold chill trickled down my system, making me shake and shiver more violently. I mumbled, “I shouldn't have attacked you, I apologize.”
“I accept your apology, but I do wish to know if you feel there is some truth behind the accusations?”
My teeth started to chatter. My whole body shuddered. I shook my head in answer.
Mordon hesitated. “May I touch you?”
“If you want to.”
“Oh, Fera,” he said and in an instant I was wrapped up in his arms, my face pressed against his chest. He stroked my hair and rocked me back and forth.
That was all it took for me to cry. Violently. My legs nearly gave out, and I found myself darting into the kitchen for a bag to be sick in. Mordon held my hair and rubbed my back.
Humiliation rendered me speechless. I was way, way overreacting. Worse was when I began to shiver, and shiver hard enough for him to rub my arms. I watched the tiles in the floor instead of looking at Mordon as I washed my face and dried my hands. Part of me wished he'd stop fussing and just let me curl up on my own until I could forget about the whole incident.
Once I washed up, he seated me on the bed and laid beside me. I wasn't sure how long I was like that before I finally felt warm and had stopped shivering.
Tension left my body. In its place was weariness. How I wished I could go back in time to regain control over myself! But Mordon's hand tracing down my spine was soothing, and his silent presence reassuring. He hadn't taken off for the hills yet.
“This,” he said quietly, “is a very big nothing.”
I supposed that I had to tell him now. Perhaps not had to, but he'd always wonder what had gone through my head tonight. Sometime, he'd press the subject again. Probably whenever I next snapped.
I shook my head. “It's a very small nothing.”
“Nothing is small if it matters so much.” He ran a finger across the shell of my ear and down my jaw. “Is it about you and me?”
“It would be easier to say yes.”
His lionlike eyes flickered across my face. “So it isn't something that I did?”
I shook my head.
He relaxed fractionally. “I am relieved that I didn't do something to put you into physical post-traumatic shock.”
I smiled. “I'm not in shock.
“Your eyes are dilated, your skin is chilled, you're shivering, you vomited. You're in shock.”
I swallowed hard. “Guess I am. Pretty stupid. Nothing actually happened to me.”
“Recalling a trauma can trigger shock. Considering all of the many things which have not put you into shock, I am puzzled what did.”
With all that I'd put him through this morning, he deserved to know the truth. Thinking of how to start it made my brain freeze.
“If you do not wish for me to speak until you are through, I will.”
“No. I just …” I tried to breathe past the lump in my throat. “Anna wasn't supposed to be my first baby.”
I thought it would take him a minute to comprehend. That he'd be confused or need explanation. He didn't lose a beat. “You had a miscarriage?”
I nodded, glad to not have to say the clumsy word. I realized Mordon must have encountered plenty of conception struggles in the colony.
“I'm so sorry. How many?”
“Just the one.”
I expected him to ask me how far along I had been.
He said, “What of the father?”
I felt a little part of me shrivel up inside. “He blamed me. Said it was because I didn't want to marry him.”
Mordon's voice went low and cold. “Was this before or after he refused to make love to you?”
I flinched. “How did you know?”
“I assumed that you were displacing aggression by acting out on a safe target rather than confronting the person who hurt you in the first place.”
“Huh.”
“Am I correct?”
“I think you made the connection before I did.”
Mordon nodded, satisfied with that answer at least. “Was this before or after?”
“Uh.” I tried to think back, winced at the associated memories. “I really don't know. It's all sludged together.”
“There is no cause to lay the blame on you,” Mordon said sternly. “You did nothing to start the loss, and you could have done nothing to prevent it.”
I stiffened again. “You don't even know how far along I was.”
“I do not need to. I know you. You would have done anything in your power to keep it safe and healthy. The same way you are doing for Anna.”
“Even if it was unexpected?”
“Anna was unexpected. You did not refuse her.”
I melted into his arms, feeling suddenly exhausted. “About Anna?”
He frowned. “I'll check on her.”
The bed swayed as he got up, evidencing his weight. The bed sure didn't move like that when I got off it.
As his bare feet padded away, I thought about what he'd said. There was nothing life-changing, but what he had done was seamlessly accept what I had to say. He hadn't belittled me, even in the unintentional way that I'd endured before. The few people who I'd tried to confide in had responded with words like at least it wasn't far along or perhaps it was for the best. Those responses made me absolutely convinced I couldn't tell anyone whose opinions mattered to me. I heard the distant crooning noises Mordon gave Anna as he picked her up.
The only thing I did while he was gone was to wrap the blankets closer around me. I felt weak, drained, but also a whole lot less strained. I wondered at how Mordon was so accepting of such a short explanation.
He returned, depositing Anna into our bed between us. She opened her mouth but kept her eyes shut. Mordon collected my hand, brought it to his lips for a kiss.
“How did you meet him?”
Should have known he'd want to know the details. “It was after I moved into my barn workshop. I was converting the silo into a bathroom and shower when he came by to check on the new resident. Word had gotten around that a former sorceress had moved into the neighborhood, and he wanted to make sure that I knew he wasn't going to tolerate any trouble.”
“Did he have the authority?”
I hesitated, not sure if I wanted to divulge his rank or name. “Yes.”
Mordon's brow furrowed. “In that area, the only people who could have that power would be a passing Magic Constable or the local sheriff.” He stroked his chin, coming to a realization. “You like to be associated with people in control, and you like stability. It was the local sheriff, what was his name, Barnes spoke to him. Bruder.”
I nodded.
“When Barnes said he gave Sheriff Bruder four IOU's in return for help, you weren't happy and you called him by his forename.” Mordon's brows lifted dramatically. “This is interesting.”
“That's one word for it.”
“Why didn't you say anything beforehand?”
I rolled onto my back, staring at the ceiling. “The relationship with Sam was over. Mentioning it would have been a distraction, and one I would as soon forget.”
“What of your reason for not telling me about your loss?”
That was harder to put to words. “First, I was easier to pretend it never happened. I mean, nobody else knows, so why should
I? Might as well have been a crazy mandrake dream.”
“And today? Why did you feel unsafe telling me?”
“Because you want kids, and what if I—” My voice broke.
“Shh, shh, love.” He took my hand in both of his. “If it is not in our fate, then we will not be the first couple to live meaningful lives. Our legacy will take a different form. That is all.”
Lost Magic (The Swift Codex Book 3) Page 15
