Page 106 of Sugar & Shadows

In the bathroom, I splashed water on my face and willed myself to get it together. I was handling this responsibly. Or at least that’s what I told myself while the woman carrying my child sat in my living room, looking devastated. I’d go fulfill my obligations on the farm, and then we could sit down like adults and talk this through.

Hopefully with no more violence.

When I came out of the bathroom, she was gone.

My lungs seized, like the wind had been knocked out of me. In my need to be responsible and make sense of this situation, had I accidentally left her alone with it?

As I sat on the couch, tying my work boots, a piece of paper on the coffee table caught my eye.

The ultrasound photo.

The baby.

Our baby.

Chapter 27

Sabrina

With a hand splayed over my stomach, I sniffled back tears. “I’m sorry, baby. Your father is both alarmingly fertile and emotionally confusing.” Tipping my head back and blinking, I took a deep breath. “Also, I may have given him a concussion.” Wow. Wasn’t I the picture of motherhood? “We’re off to such a great start, sweetie.”

How could I successfully raise a child if I couldn’t even get through a conversation with Gabe without physical violence or emotional devastation?

Tears blurred my vision again. This was so embarrassing. Cool, calm Sabrina Monroe weeping? Scared? God, how the mighty had fallen. This baby may have been a surprise, but I wouldn’t half-ass any of this. If I was going to be a mom, then I’d be a great mom.

But right now, it didn’t feel possible.

I squeezed my eyes shut, and an image of Gabe’s swollen, bruised face floated into my mind. Followed by a memory of how gentle he’d been with me. And then how cold he’d turned before running off to the farm for some syrup crisis while I shattered on his couch.

For some reason, maybe pregnancy hormones, I’d allowed myself to trust him. For a short time, I actually thought he would be steady. That Gabe Harding was safe.

That was my mistake. One I wouldn’t make again.

Emotional ambiguity was dangerous; it led to confusion and hurt feelings. If we were going to have a child, then I’d have to set clear boundaries. Come up with a strategy.

I blew my nose, patting my stomach again.

“Don’t worry, baby. Mommy will have a fully optimized plan. We will stress test everything and make sure everything is perfect for you.”

I closed my eyes and willed it so. It would be perfect. My daughter needed resolution. And maybe I did too.

So I did what any rational, careful person would do. I got in my car and drove to the farm. Not to yell or confront Gabe.

I’d already done that, after all.

But to calmly explain myself, apologize profusely for the punch, and discuss expectations. Stewing about it on the couch would only hurt me and the baby, so I’d do what I always did. I’d fix it.

I flexed my fingers on the steering wheel, the responding ache in my knuckles making my stomach sink. This was not who I was. I’d once remained calm while a senator screamed at me on live television. I’d once negotiated a dark money donor scandal while feds were raiding my office. And yet, Gabriel Harding in gray sweatpants had reduced me to assault and battery before breakfast.

He hadn’t deserved it. Well, most of it.

He probably just needed time. Rationally, I understood, and Josh needed him. Unfortunately, the logic center in my brain had gone offline due to pregnancy hormones, emotional trauma, and the memory of a shirtless, rumpled-looking Gabe. I had to push through this anger. Yet I couldn’t get past the look of relief that hit him when he discovered he had to leave this morning. But he’d been calm and focused while I’d been emotionally unraveling in my monkey pajama pants.

I cringed as I pulled toward the farm. I’d cried. I’d yelled. I’d flailed, for God’s sake. All in front of a man. And not just any man.

My former archnemesis turned… I didn’t even know. Hot hookup?

My expectations were too high, because my brain had gone rogue and decided he was important.