Page 78 of Love Wells Kept

“What can I get you? Is it a headache? Stomachache?” I take the glass back from her.

“I have my period.” She cozies back down in the bed so the pillows nearly envelop her head entirely and the comforter’s pulled to her chin. “I already have tampons, enough drugs to knock out a horse, and a heating pad. I’m all set.”

Well…surely there’s something I could do—should do—as her husband.

“Beryl made some really good scones.” I’m immediately embarrassed by my offer. A scone made by somebody else? That is the best I can do? “I mean…shit. What did I do for you before?”

“Cuddled, usually…But you don’t have—”

Her sentence hangs incomplete. I have a fistful of blankets in my hand, and I’m shoving my way into the bed with her. Kate doesn’t fight it. She simply rolls onto her side to make room for me.

It takes a minute to figure out how I should lie—more accurately, where the hell to put my right arm so it’s not interfering with either of our comfort.

I breathe heavily against her hair, reveling in the way her body naturally molds around mine. She’s small in all the places I’m big. Neither of us has to work to make things fit. She’s slipping into a space she belongs in, and a contented warmth melts over me. We shared a bed for a few nights before, but we didn’t cuddle quite like this. Now I’m even more pissed off at myself for letting her move out of our room.

Kate seems to be wearing nothing but underwear and an oversized T-shirt, and I try not to think too hard about that. Even as her ass presses to my lap, and I can feel the heat radiating from her back against my chest. She takes hold of my hand, drawing it around her waist, and my fingers spread wide over the heating pad on her lower stomach.

After a minute or two with only her and I and the whir of the ceiling fan, she’s been so quiet and still I wonder if she’s fallen asleep. Until a silent sob racks Kate, making the entire bed shake slightly, and she fights to catch her breath. Unsure how to handle this, I stay quiet and weather the blunt force of her heaving breath against my ribs. I didn’t know someone could cry so hard without making a noise.

With both my hands incapacitated, I smooth my lips over her shoulder and make gentle shushing sounds. “You gotta stop crying, Kit. Stop and tell me what you need. More drugs? I got some of the good painkillers downstairs.”

Her laugh is wet and half-hearted, driving a sharp edge between my ribs. I’ve never seen her cry like this before, and I hope I never do again.

“Ice cream? Chocolate? I don’t know if we have either of those things, but I’ll learn how to make ice cream, if it’ll make you stop crying.”

“No…just hold me. That’s all I want.”

My hand moves with the gentle rise and fall of her stomach, and her breathing slowly returns to near normal. Kate momentarily releases her hold on me to aggressively rub away the tears, even though I can tell by her constant sniffling that more are falling faster than she can wipe them away.

Outside the room, Odessa yells something about heading to school, and Kate musters up the energy to fake a cheerful, “Have a good day!”

Inside the room, it’s still dark with the curtains drawn shut, and she’s falling apart in my arms.

“I’m such a wreck for no good reason,” she mumbles. “I swear I’m not usually like this when I get my period.”

“Bleeding, in pain, hormonal. Feels like good reasons to cry, to me. I wish I could be of more use to you.”

“It’s only—back when it was happening, I thought…I was alone—” Another silent sob cuts her off, and she presses our joined hands hard into her abdomen. “Goddamn it.” A forceful exhalation makes her stomach quickly press inward. “Life is really nothing more than a bunch of fucked-up moments one after another. Hurt and hurt and hurt, forever and ever.”

I don’t have the faintest clue what she’s on about, and I say as much. “Can you tell me what we’re crying about?”

I say we, because my eyes are burning from the simple act of holding her in the dark as she weeps, without any idea how to fix it. Déjà vu pokes and prods at my brain, making me think we’ve held each other this way and cried before. I blink up at the ceiling, eyes tracing a narrow beam of light from a tiny gap in the curtains, trying to tease specifics from my tangled, matted mess of a brain.

“Please don’t be mad that I didn’t tell you about this sooner. I wanted to—I would have, if things were different. I just…it didn’t make sense to. Probably still doesn’t. It’s not like you know any different, so…”

My mouth presses to her shoulder. I hope she feels the brazen heat, the care, through her shirt fabric.

“Right before the accident, I was pregnant.” Her words are soft and steady, yet thunderous in this dark room and in the depths of my soul. “Nobody knew…just me and you. It was our special little secret. I w-wasn’t far along….”

My throat goes instantly dry.

I’m scared to ask, “W-what happened?”

I suspect the answer before she says it, but my heart stops in wait anyway.

“I miscarried.”

Hand held tight to her stomach, I start to roll her toward me. I need to look at her face. I need to search her eyes and hold her close and, fuck, I need to kiss her. Tell her I’m sorry, because I know this is my fault. Kate has suffered so much because of me, and I’m not sure anything I ever do will make up for the pain I’ve caused.