“I don’t know what you mean.” She moved to turn back. He grabbed her shoulder. “Don’t do this, Tori. Talk to me. You haven’t been yourself in so long, I feel like I’m living with a ghost.”
“What do you want me to say?” Her voice shook.
“Say anything. Argue with me, insult me, be yourself again.”
“Don’t you understand?” She pushed herself upright, and the tears fell. “I killed our baby.”
“Damnit, stop saying that.” He jumped up and paced. “We lost our child because, well, because like Dr. Hendricks said, it just wasn’t ‘right.’ It happens. He explained it to us.”
She closed her eyes and lowered her head. “Let me go to sleep, Jesse, I’m so tired.”
“If you would give us a chance, there could be another baby,” he said softly.
Her head whipped around. “No. No more babies. Never, and I mean it, Jesse. Never.”
Jesse turned on his heel and left the room. He strode down the hallway, toward the front room. Hands jammed deep in his pockets, he stopped to stare out the office window. The darkness didn’t hide the bare branches of the small, sturdy trees he’d planted in the front yard. The wind had picked up, and it looked cold outside, as cold as his insides.
He sighed. Time to face the fact that Tori wasn’t getting better. He acknowledged his strong feelings for her. Somewhere along the line she’d become important to him, so important he didn’t want to continue with the way things were.
Even though he’d used a heavy hand to get Tori to the altar, he wanted to make the marriage work. He blew out a deep breath. For so much of his life, he resented his mother, and the life she thrust on him. Now he had something real, something that belonged to him. He felt respected and cared for. The children came to him for advice.
He moved to the cabinet by the wall and reached into the lower cupboard and pulled out a bottle. He blew off a thin layer of dust and poured some of the amber liquid into one of the glasses he’d removed from the cabinet. After taking a drink of brandy, he spent the next hour pacing the newly constructed parlor his wife had no interest in decorating.
At the end of the next day, Jesse sat drumming his fingers on the edge of his desk. Even though he’d seen several clients, and resolved a few legal issues that brought him nice fees, nothing kept him from replaying the conversation from the night before.
He’d convince himself he didn’t care, and if Tori wanted to live this way, he could do it. Then her tortured expression when she said she killed their baby flashed in his mind, and he knew he cared too much to watch her suffer.
He glanced at his watch. Supper time. Maybe a meal at The Café would cheer her up.
Silence greeted him as he wandered to the back of the house. “Tori!” He began checking the rooms. The bedroom door stood closed. Maybe she was taking a nap. He knocked lightly and entered. Tori watched him as she folded a blouse. A satchel sat on the bed, filled with her clothes.
“What are you doing?” His mouth turned bone dry.
“Packing.”
“So I see. Are you taking a trip?”
“I’m moving back next door.” She avoided his eyes, her voice barely a whisper.
He dropped his hands to his sides, all the air leaving his lungs. He moved further into the room, took the blouse from her, then rested his shaky hands on her shoulders. “Why are you moving back next door?”
“I can’t do this anymore.” She closed her eyes. Her shoulders shook, and he feared he’d made her cry. Instead, she took a deep breath and opened pain-filled eyes.
“Don’t do this. Running away won’t solve anything.” He pulled her against his chest.
“I’m doing this for you.” She put her hands on his chest and eased back.
Anger flashed through him. “What the hell does that mean?”
She dropped her arms and rested her forehead on his chest.
He wrapped his arm around her waist an
d tugged her closer. “I don’t want you to leave. Please give us another chance.”
“This is for the best. I can’t be the wife you want and need.”
“Tori, please.”