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As soon as the thought popped into his head he crushed it. Why would she come here? He’d been awful to her, and she didn’t love him anyway. No one who really loved him could’ve been hanging on to his brother like that, letting him hold her hands. And…Edward. Mark had been the fool to ever trust him. Why had he let Laura talk him into letting Edward back into his life? He knew better.
Tomorrow, he’d get the things he needed from his condo and set sail.
* * *
LAURA CRIED INTO Mark’s pillow that night, not sure why the tears wouldn’t stop. She ought to be angry with Mark, angry for him thinking so little of her, for him throwing a fit when he should’ve been understanding.
You could fix this in a single sentence. Just tell him what you and Edward were really talking about. Then he’d know.
Maybe she should. She’d been putting this off for too long, and for what? So Mark could make up stories about why she was whispering to his brother? Then again, did Mark deserve to know? He’d acted so irrationally, and he’d assumed the worst of her when she’d done nothing but help him since she first arrived on the island.
Laura sat up in bed and swiped the tears from her eyes. When was she ever going to find someone as loyal to her as she was to them?
She half expected Mark to come home sometime, but the later the hour got, the more she realized he wasn’t coming in. Where was he? It was nearly two in the morning now, and he wasn’t answering his texts, which was even more infuriating, and she’d called twice, but her call had gone straight to voice mail.
Even if I wanted to tell him I was pregnant, how could I if he’s not answering his phone? Text message? Hi, honey, I’m not cheating. I’m pregnant. And that makes you an asshole.
She was almost tempted. She should. It would serve him right.
Laura sniffed and then sat up in bed. She needed another trip to the bathroom. Was pregnancy bladder starting already? She hurried to the bathroom. It was only when she pulled down her pajama bottoms that she saw it.
Blood.
No. God, no. It was happening. Right here.
Suddenly, she was sucked back into her last pregnancy. She’d had spotting at first. The doctor said it could be normal—as long as it stopped and no cramps began. But it didn’t stop, and then the cramps started, and then the blood just came and came. Eventually, she had to go to the hospital.
Laura remembered that horrible day like it happened yesterday. The cramps were intense, and when she went to the hospital, doctors diagnosed her with a rare condition, which led to trouble stopping the bleeding. She had immediate surgery, but she nearly lost her ability to have children at all.
She remembered the shock of it all—the doctor telling her she needed surgery, the definite loss of her baby and her hope. The orderlies rolling her down the hospital with the glaring flourescent lights sweeping by as she stared up at them wondering whether she was going to live or die.
Then she woke up to her sister by her bedside, her sister, full of so many questions. When were you going to tell me you were pregnant? I didn’t even know you were dating anyone. Laura, what’s going on?
And then, on the worst day of her life, she had to admit to her sister everything: the affair, the accidental pregnancy, the miscarriage.
That same day, the surgeon informed her she might never be able to bear children again. That she probably had less than a 50 percent chance.
Laura laughed to herself. Less than 50 percent, and here she was, carrying Mark’s baby. At least, she hoped she was.
Dear Lord, please look after this baby.
Yet, as she glanced at the quarter-sized drop of blood, she felt dizzy.
She felt like hyperventilating. Then she remembered—the fall on the boat. It had to be the fall. She was losing the baby. All her worst fears were coming true. She felt the bitter truth of that hit her like a rock slide. I’m never going to be a mother. I’m never going to hold my baby in my arms.
She swiped a tear from her cheek. Laura still had the on-call number for her ob-gyn. She glanced at her watch and realized with the time change, it wouldn’t be that late there. She dialed Dr. Pamela Goodwin’s answering service quickly, wondering if her or her partner would be “on call” for off hours. In just twenty minutes, her doctor had called her back.
“Laura? What’s wrong?”
In a blubber of tears, Laura explained about the spotting. She could barely get the words out.
“Okay, deep breaths,” Dr. Goodwin said on the line. “Do you have any cramping?”
“No,” Laura admitted, inwardly trying to feel out what was happening in her body. No cramps, no tightness, nothing. In fact, she wouldn’t have even known about the blood if she hadn’t needed to use the bathroom.
