First Surrender (Chance Encounters #3)

Chapter Thirty

Natalie

T here is no point to my existence. I was a mistake when I was put on this earth and I’ve been a mistake ever since. I was a burden to my mother and I was a burden to myself. Now, I’m a burden to Jackson.

He opens the door quickly, blinking rapidly as he takes in the scene. I’m standing in front of him in my favorite plum shirt, pantsless, with my jeans crumpled up in the sink.

The blood stains on my pants match the blood on my inner thighs and my underwear.

My heart is bleeding out of my chest already but looking at him trying to register what the hell is going on is only making me sob worse. He never even knew. He never had the chance to know that his baby was inside of me and now it’s over. My baby is gone.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, tenderly, but it only makes me heave a rasping breath painfully through my throat. My mouth tries to form a word but I can’t, my jaw only trembles.

“You have to tell me what to do. How can I help you?” He reaches for me but I brush his hands away.

“You- You can’t fix this.” I don’t know what is wrong with my brain. I don’t know why I’m so quick to anger when I’m emotional, but it ignites in me whenever I feel trapped.

Standing in the bathroom of his home, in the blood of my miscarriage that he fathered, I am a caged animal.

“You did this to me,” I grit out through clenched teeth. My whole body is trembling. My teeth chatter incessantly from the adrenaline, filling my head with noise.

“What?”

The pain that I’m feeling lashes out of me and I start beating on his chest with the sides of my fists manically. “You did this to me!” I scream, hitting him over and over.

He lets me for several seconds, standing like stone, not reacting. It only makes my blood hotter. “Your fault!” I blubber, borderline hyperventilating.

He finally grabs my wrists in a vice grip, keeping my enclosed fists pressed to his chest. “What the hell do you mean? What did I do?”

“I lost it,” I breathe out a sob, my voice cracking.

“Lost what?”

“Our baby.” I can’t look at him. I can’t. My heart is already shattered and I can’t see the disappointment on his face when he realizes what I did.

I betrayed him. All of his kindness. All of the trust he might have had in me is gone now. I lost his baby.

“You were pregnant?” His tone is brittle, unlike anything I’ve ever heard from him, and his whole body sinks until we’re both slumped on the floor. His arms cradle me, keeping me plastered to his body as I nod against his chest, letting my tears fall freely.

This is when he’s going to yell at me, call me a whore, or a bitch for keeping it from him. It’s all going to implode because I failed.

“You were going to have my baby…” He whispers the words atop my head and instead of pushing me away as I suspected, he pulls me impossibly closer. It only makes me cry harder.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you. I’m so sorry, Jackson.” My words are almost nonexistent because I’m speaking directly into his shirt but I’m not brave enough to look at him.

He doesn’t say anything for several minutes but his arms never loosen. He holds my trembling body with all of the strength in his even though I don’t deserve it. He should be mad at me, yell at me, anything other than gentle.

“Why didn’t you tell me? Is it because you thought I’d be a bad father?” His voice breaks and my head snaps up to his. The stronger-than-life man who saves everyone has his back against the door with tears in his eyes, desperately searching for my response.

I had never considered that he would be a bad father because when it came down to it, I knew he’d be the best.

“I was afraid that you wouldn’t love it because it would be mine,” I whisper, hardly able to say the words aloud.

His jaw drops and he shakes his head in silent disbelief. “I would have loved it,” he finally utters. “I would have taken care of you. Both of you.”

I bury my head into his neck, selfishly seeking comfort from the man who owes me nothing, but he wraps his arms around my back anyway, holding me to him as tightly as he was before.

“I know you would have,” I admit against his neck. I realized he would do the right thing no matter what and I decided to tell him. “I was so afraid at first and needed to come to terms with it. I went to get an ultrasound today and was going to show you tonight at dinner. But-” I sob into his neck and his arms hug me until I can hardly breathe.

“My levels were low and they couldn’t find a heartbeat.”

I couldn’t believe it. I was sitting in the clinic with my world turning upside down and all I wanted was Jackson. I wanted him there with me like he has for every other difficult moment since I’ve met him. “They warned me that I could start bleeding at some point but I didn’t realize how soon.” I hiccup a sob.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” His term of endearment for me cracks my heart wide open but in the worst way. I don’t deserve it.

I’m such a disappointment.

“I always wanted to be a mom. Not like this, but I wanted to be the best mom, the one that I never had.” My tears flow silently down my face while I feel like I’m on the verge of dissociation. My brain can’t handle this, my heart definitely can’t.

“You would be,” he assures me even though I don’t deserve it.

“I’ve already messed it up. How am I supposed to get custody of Dec when I couldn’t take care of my own baby? I couldn’t even keep her alive.”

“Her?” He asks, breathlessly.

“I don’t know, I always thought I would have a baby girl one day. It’s how I imagined the baby in my mind,” I explain, pathetically.

“You will be a good mom someday. You’re the best mom to Dec already. You’re his sister but you are a damn good mom. You didn’t mess anything up.” He leaves no room for argument with the intensity of his words. I want to believe him, I really do, but I’m so defeated.

“I failed you,” I murmur the words I’ve been dreading.

He pushes me back, taking my face in his hands. I can only assume that my eyes are swollen and makeup is streaked down my face, but all I can focus on is his honey-brown eyes searing into my soul.

“This is not your fault. We will mourn this baby. Our baby.” He stands up, pulling me up with him. “But, we’re doing it together. We can go back to how things were tomorrow, but for tonight, let me take care of you. Okay? You can hate me again tomorrow.” He sweeps me up and off my feet, curling me to his chest.

I don’t have the energy to tell him I don’t hate him. I don’t want to go back to how things were but I’m too afraid to admit it. It was easy living with someone I thought I hated, but now I am terrified to be close to someone that I might actually care about.

He sets me on the counter in his bathroom. Dark gray floor, gray walls, silver faucets. It’s much bigger than the hall bathroom, with a double vanity, a big glass walk-in shower, and a white tub. It’s stark and clean.

While the tub fills up, he disappears momentarily before returning with my makeup remover wipes. I sit there like a statue while he wipes my cheeks and gently under my eyes. I close them to let him do my lids and feel a kiss on my forehead when he’s done. His lips vanish by the time I open my eyes.

This is just for tonight. He’s taking care of me tonight because we’re sad. That’s all.

His hands expertly twirl my hair into a twisty bun, something I imagine he’s had to do for his mom a time or two.

When the tub is ready, those same hands help me off the counter and delicately remove my shirt from behind, giving me a veil of privacy.

There’s a sudden intake of breath when my shirt crests over my head and I feel him freeze behind me. “Your dragon,” he whispers in astonishment as he unclasps my bra.

In the middle of my back, between my shoulder blades is a fine line tattoo of a black dragon. The ink weaves in and out expertly, giving the illusion of being wrapped around my spine.

I’m silent, letting him look. It’s the first time anyone has seen it since I got it done in New York. Aside from Dec who tried to expose my secret the day we moved in here.

I got it for me, I didn’t want anyone else to know about it, but I’m glad Jackson does. He’ll have a little part of me forever anyway.

He respects my silence and instead of asking me about it, he cups my hips in his big hands, right on the sides of my underwear. “I’m going to get these off but I’ll keep my head turned so you can get in the tub.”

We’ve had sex, it seems so silly to need privacy but my emotions have been rubbed raw enough for one day. I’ve had enough exposure for a lifetime, and somehow he knows that already.

The same way he knows to chuck my bloodied panties into the wastebasket as I climb into the tub. I never want to see that underwear again.

The water is hot and there are just enough bubbles that I could lay back if I wanted to, but I don’t. All I can do is hug my knees. Being tucked into myself makes me feel less alone.

Less empty.