He should have known better. He shouldn’t have fooled himself that the bubbly, indomitable, fearless Stevie needed anyone, much less him. Maybe she was more like her mother than she had realized, too restless and free-spirited to be tied to anyone other than the child she would certainly adore. How idiotic had he been to think an impulsive elopement based on her uncertainties and his loneliness would last a lifetime?
He’d promised himself he wouldn’t try to hold her if she wanted her freedom. He could go back to the way things had been before. But while his job, his routines, his home might eventually be the same again, there would always be something missing. As uncharacteristically maudlin as it sounded, he would always know that he’d left his broken heart in Stevie’s small, capable hands.
He settled back in the ICU visitor chair to keep watch over his wife for the remainder of the night. He tried not to think about what might come with morning.
* * *
Though sore from her C-section and still easily tired, Stevie felt much better the next afternoon. After a few nerve-racking initial attempts, she and the baby were both finally getting the hang of breast-feeding. She’d texted photos of the baby to her mother, brother and friends, the latter of whom were giving her a couple of days to recover before descending on her, though she knew they were impatient to meet little Liam.
She’d been moved out of ICU and into a regular room, though she would have to remain in the hospital for a couple more nights. Flowers, balloons and stuffed animals from family and friends surrounded her, but she had eyes only for the rosy-cheeked infant sleeping in a plastic bassinet drawn up next to the cushioned chair in which she sat. She wanted to regain her strength quickly and she couldn’t do that lying in bed.
Every time she heard footsteps in the hall, she perked up, thinking it might be Cole. She’d sent him home a few hours earlier to get some rest and feed the cat. He’d been so tired from sitting up with her all night that his unshaven face had been a little pale. She’d slept a lot after the delivery, but every time she’d been awakened to tend to the baby, Cole had been there keeping watch, sometimes holding Liam with such tenderness that her heart had melted. He’d said very little this morning. She’d figured that in addition to exhaustion, he was understandably overwhelmed with everything that had happened yesterday.
She smiled brightly when the door opened and Cole came in, a vase of cheery yellow roses in one hand, the bag of personal items she’d requested in his other. “They’re beautiful,” she said as he made a place for the roses among the other gifts.
Looking a little sheepish, he all but shuffled his feet. “I thought you might like them. You’ve gotten quite a few deliveries while I was gone, I see.”
“Yes, I have. But your roses are the prettiest.”
She thought he might smile at that. He didn’t. In fact, he looked entirely too serious as he went to look down into the bassinet. “How’s he doing?”
“He’s perfect,” she said with a happy sigh. “He had a good feeding half an hour ago, and he’s been sleeping like an angel ever since.”
“And you?”
“I’ll be glad to get rid of this thing,” she said, waving a hand to indicate the IV line still taped into her arm. “I’m uncomfortable, of course, but it’s not too bad.”
“You wouldn’t complain even if it was.”
She shrugged, still studying his face. “Cole? Are you okay? Did you get enough rest?”
He sat on the edge of the rumpled bed, facing her chair. “I’m fine.”
He didn’t look fine. She tried again to get him to smile. “I’ve finally decided on my choice for Liam’s middle name.”
They’d agreed on Liam for a first name, but the middle name had been more difficult for her. Cole had left the choice to her, saying he had no real preference other than the first name they both liked. She’d known since this morning exactly what name best suited her son. “I want his name to be Liam Douglas McKellar.”
A muscle twitched in Cole’s jaw. He turned his head, but not before she saw a flash of emotion cross his face. Was he touched that she wanted to name her son after him? Happy? Sad? What?
“You aren’t saying much today,” she said, her eyes fixed on his somber profile.
He pushed a hand through his already tousled hair. “Look, Stevie. I just want you to know that whatever you need, whatever Liam needs, I will always be here for you. You have my word on that. But—”
He paused to clear his husky throat.
But? She didn’t like the sound of that.
Her throat closed and she felt her hands begin to shake. Was Cole... Surely he wasn’t trying to tell her he’d changed his mind about being married to her! Had the reality of actually seeing the baby, the physical reminder of the huge responsibility involved in caring for this tiny, totally dependent person, made him reevaluate the promises he’d offered so impulsively? Or had he realized he didn’t want to raise another man’s baby, after all? She was pretty sure she could actually feel her heart breaking at the very thought.
“Cole?” she whispered. “What are you trying to tell me?”
He took a deep breath. “I know you don’t need me to help you raise him. So, if you’ve decided you’d rather do it on your own, if you’ve come to the conclusion that you married too quickly and for the wrong reasons, I won’t stand in your way. I’ll always be your friend, no matter what. I just want you to be happy.”
Her heart started to beat again, slowly, tentatively, as she deciphered what she thought, what she hoped, he meant. She vaguely remembered the fiercely assertive speech she’d made to him while floating on pain meds and shock. “You think I want out of our marriage?”
He pushed his hands down his thighs as if drying nervous palms. “I know you weren’t thinking clearly yesterday, but you said—”
That fleeting glimpse of emotion gave her encouragement to break in. “You misunderstood my point, Cole. I’m sure I was babbling, so I migh