“I had a light bleeding and scheduled an ultra-sound,” she said out loud, and though her voice trembled when she remembered that sunny afternoon, she kept on going. “She didn’t have a heartbeat anymore.”
“Heartbeat.” He repeated the word, as if he was just learning how to pronounce it. Carefully and slowly, with some reverence even. She wanted to know what went on inside his head. He carried the hurt in his eyes of someone who had been there.
“I was induced into labor.” Tears welled in her eyes, and she no longer fought them. How could she? How to put into words the ripping pain she experienced when Hannah had turned out to be a stillborn, like the doctors had warned her? Like her parents, separately, had tried to explain to her. She’d known baby ultrasound machines couldn’t be wrong, but she had to believe in anything, even in the impossible, to pull through that sad laboring. The quiet recovery roomand the haunting cry of healthy babies coming to life in the delivery rooms near hers.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked after a couple of minutes, his eyes hard and cold. The five little words she’d dreaded to hear from him.
“I was two months pregnant when I found out. I was going to tell you, either later in the pregnancy or after she was born,” she answered truthfully. “I was still getting used to the idea.”
“I could have helped, you know.”
She shook her head. “How? I was in Florida, getting over a heartbreak and the pregnancy news. And you were in New York, taking care of your family.”
“But you didn’t know it then. About my family.”
She sniffed, and pressed her lips together to repress any other tears. “No, but I knew you were super ambitious and didn’t want to get tied down. What future would you have with me?”
He stepped back, his expression gloomier than the darkness of night. “I guess we’ll never know.”
Sudden anger grew inside her, quick and frightening. She knew she had to keep her cool, but not when he didn’t acknowledge everything she went through. “You don’t get to be defensive, Luc. If you want to be mad at me, I understand, but I didn’t think highly of you and didn’t consider you a good parent back then.”
“You just told me I had a daughter who died and want me to get over it in five minutes?” Accusation dripped from his voice.
“It takes a lot longer than that.” She choked out the words.
He paced in a couple of circles, as if invisible demons stalked him. She instinctively lifted her hand to reach for him, but stopped midway and brought her hand back to her waist. What was the point?
He massaged his temples and turned to her again. Disillusion flickered in his eyes, and a cold chill zapped down her spine. Oh, that was so much worse than the accusatory look.
“Why didn’t you call me?”
“I didn’t know then what I know now, Luc. I know you’ll be a great parent one day,” she tried to soften up her voice at the end. Desperate to cut the tension between them, and send it far away.
Luc curled and uncurled his hands. “I could have done something. If I’d known…but you took it away from me.” He glared at her, and for a moment his eyes seemed glossier. But the tears that bordered his lids never made their way down.
She motioned to give him a hug, to hold him, but he didn’t allow her. He swung his body away from her.
“I’m not running. I don’t want to run anymore.”
He ran his fingers through his hair a couple of times, stilled, and then looked at her. She inhaled, trying to meet his intent stare measure by measure, even though her body was about to burst with anxiety.
Say something.
“It’s too late,” he whispered, looking away. He confirmed her most haunting fear as he pressed his lips into a sour, hard line and walked away. This time, forever.
***
Two months later…
“Luc?” Brad called, surprise displayed on his face.
Luc thanked the front desk agent and slipped the keycard in his pocket. He turned to the general manager, and made an effort to smile. Unsuccessfully. Still, when Brad stepped closer, he shook his hand.
“I didn’t know you were coming. No one said anything.” Brad commented as they walked across the lobby–now filled with good-looking guests, talking lively as they headed to the bar or waited for the elevators to come down. No doubt, much more lively and colorful than what he’d remembered. Although, strangely, the excessiveness of life and joy around him made him miss the quietude and uncertainty of two months earlier. Made him miss her.
“It was kind of an impulse.” Luc held his leather briefcase and small carryon.
“Are you okay? You don’t look good.”
Luc rubbed his three day old beard. “I’ve been busy.”
Brad shook his head. “Why don’t we have a drink together? I just got off the clock and I trust you not to tell my boss.”
“Sounds good.” Luc acquiesced, and although it didn’t matter to him either way, especially after the news he just received, the evidence he avoided for years because it had never meant much. Not until she came along again.
They sat in the quietest corner of the bar, and the bartender brought them scotch only a few seconds after they’d ordered. The perk of being the boss, he guessed. Still, why did it feel like he didn’t have much, even though he owned a lot?
“I miss Penelope.” Luc confessed after the first gulp, the liquid burning a fiery hot path down his throat.
Brad watched him in silence for a moment, and sipped his drink. “You should go get her, Luc. Before it’s too late.”
Luc’s sarcastic and pitiful chuckle made a couple of patrons frown. “That seems to be the case. Penelope deserves the stick figure family people apply on the back of their car. And even with all the money in the world, I can’t give it to her.”
“Why not?”
“My genes are screwed up. I never cared for it, but just to make sure I ran a couple of exams last week.” He leaned over the countertop, grabbed a thin straw from the bartender station and stirred the ice cubes in his drink. He’d also done the exams when he contemplated giving her a call. “I know she wants to have kids.”
Brad frowned. “Hello, there are different ways to have a family nowadays.”
Luc looked at Brad’s clear blue eyes and nodded. “Of course.” But he’d seen the pain in her eyes, when she mentioned Hannah. Guilt and betrayal had warred inside him, and he’d settled for not ever wanting to make her feel that way. “I just didn’t want to hurt her like in the past.”
Brad shook his head. “Since when are relationships one-sided? You took her power of decision away from her.”
Luc took another gulp of scotch, realization dawning on him as he swallowed.
I’ve done to her what she’d done to me.
“Stick figures are a sham. I wouldn’t trade my boyfriend and slightly weird looking cats for anything in the world. “Brad’s lips settled into the confident smile of someone completely satisfied in his own skin. The confidence Luc used to have before he’d left her. “And I’m sure Penny thinks the same way.”
“She probably hates me by now.” A wave of apprehension traveled through him.
Brad folded his arms. “There’s only way to find out.”
Luc finished his drink and put the glass on the counter, with a sigh. “I guess nothing can be worse than wondering.”
A smile formed on Brad’s lips. “Please tell me you’ll shave before you see her again.”
Luc chuckled. Yes, he was done with wondering.
***
“Charles.” Penny raised an eyebrow as she stretched her hand to her former boss. Weeks had passed after she’d put in her notice, and now they both networked at the same happy hour rooftop bar, but this time the circumstances were quite different. Yes, well groomed patrons still exchanged business cards, industry tips, and munched on smoked salmon canapés while sipping overpriced drinks. However, that was about it.
“Penny,” he said, after a deep, long sigh.
She couldn’t help but smile. A genuine smile. “I take it you’ve received my last check.” She savored every word, proud for having paid them before her self-imposed deadline.
He nodded. His eyes narrowed and warned her if she expected a thank-you, she’d better think again. Penny didn’t care. Apart from her love life, she felt complete, like she hadn’t in a long time.
“Darren tells me you’ve done well.” His compliment almost sounded like an insult. She’d kept in touch with Darren, who was now dating someone. But she imagined Charles still wasn’t her biggest fan, so it was best to keep this short.
She smiled again. “I have no complaints.” Then she nodded and gave him a light pat on his back. “Take care.”
“You too,” he muttered under his breath with a slight quirk on his lips that could pass for a smile. Go figure.
Penny put her dry martini on the countertop and headed to the outdoor terrace. Vast, dark clouds hinted at a thunderstorm. She strode all the way to the end, and splayed her hands on the metal rail, the only divide between her and the big, tall buildings ahead of her. Rain would come soon, no doubt. Her fingers caressed the rod, feeling its coolness. Moments like this were dangerous because they reminded her of Luc.
She couldn’t face him anymore. The first time they split, she’d left him. The second time, he’d left her and there wouldn’t be a third time. Sadly, this didn’t make any of it easier.
Every contact she’d got from him had mentioned all the good things Luc had said about her. And while hearing his name she had to grin and bear it, and pretend a demanding boss was all he’d been.
“Penelope.”
She heard his voice so close, almost as if behind her. She blinked, and when she heard her name repeated all her nerves stood on end. Carefully, she spun on her heels. It couldn’t be, could it? Although this property belonged to him, she’d never run into him on her monthly networking appearances.
When her eyes met his, raw awareness belted through her. He stood a couple of feet before her, all Luc: designer jeans, white shirt, well-cut, dark blue jacket. There were circles under his eyes, and his hair looked a tad longer, the ends curling down to his shoulder.
She smoothed her silk black dress, giving her hands something to do so they wouldn’t land on his face, for making her hurt like that. She noticed his eyes catalogued her as well, but not just with a sexual intent. An added emotion filled his face, and when his gaze trailed down and he saw her red stiletto shoes, her toes curled inside them.
“Can we go somewhere to talk?”
“No.” She folded her arms. “There’s nothing to say and I was on my way out anyway.” She heard thunder behind her. Her cue to leave. “You think you can just show up and toy with my feelings? I have news for you, I’m not interested.”
She tried to move around him, but he grasped her arm. The light drizzle from the sky couldn’t wash the familiar heat in her stomach. Damn it. “Let me go.”
“I’ve done it twice, and I’m not going to let you go again,” he said firmly, although his grip on her loosened. “Please, listen to me. If at the end you still want to go, I won’t ever bother you again.”
She yanked her arm from him and threw her shoulders back. “Okay,” she conceded although she silently warned her heart to be careful
. Don’t let his mismatched, soulful eyes fool you. Or the way his lips curled just enough to make you wish for more.
More smiles. No.
The drizzle continued, light but steady. Droplets of water hit her head, some of her face, and splattered down her dress, but she couldn’t care less, unlike the other patrons who started to leave their tables and head inside. Some of the women tried to use their hands or bags to block the water from ruining their hairstyles.
She heard chairs being moved around, and a waiter announcing something about accommodating the patrons at the inside bar. But it all turned into white noise when his lips moved.
“I’m sorry for sending you away. The minute you told me you were pregnant and lost my baby, I thought of Bertrand.” Humility and concern blended in his voice. The water hit his face and clothes, but he didn’t move an inch. “I felt guilty for impregnating you, when my genes are compromised. The type of Down Syndrome Bertrand had is very rare and hereditary.”
She swallowed. “Luc, miscarriages happen. Unfortunately, they are more common than you think. What I went through…” She wiped the droplets from her face with the back of her hand. “It could have happened to anyone and it doesn’t have anything to do with you.”
“I’ve had my chromosomes studied. I’m a translocation carrier, even if chances are small.”
“What does that mean?”
He hesitated, then closed his eyes and opened them again. “That if we had children, well…there’s a chance on my part they could have Down Syndrome. And heart problems. My father didn’t die from heart disease, but suffered from it while he lived. So did Bertrand.”
The droplets thickened, and she heard them as they hit the ground. “Do you think I care about your family medical history?”
He ran his fingers through his soaked hair. “I just thought it wouldn’t be fair to you—”
“I’m an adult, Luc. We can study our chances together, or I’d be happy to adopt. You don’t get to make decisions for me.” She lifted her chin, hands on her waist. Water slid down her face, but she kept her eyes wide open to study his reaction.
His broad shoulders heaved as he breathed. A gleam of warmth flickered in his eyes. “I know that now. After my father died, I helped
Maman
make all sorts of decisions. I both took pride and felt exhausted doing that.”
“You were too young to be the decision maker,” she whispered.
“The only decision she didn’t ask for my permission was related to Bertrand’s final days…and he died. I had never felt so betrayed and helpless. I didn’t like either of those feelings.”
“Just like when I told you about Hannah, two months ago.”
He nodded. “You are an intelligent strong woman. Without trying, you’ve made me question the life I was living… You were scared of airplanes and flying. Since losing Bertrand, I was scared of giving my all to someone.”
She sucked in her breath. “Remember I told you I was scared of flying because of bad turbulence during a flight? After my parents’ divorce?”