She glanced away. “Love shouldn’t have conditions.”
“Sometimes life is just that way.”
Julianna woke up and began to fuss. Tally moved around me, picking her up. She rocked her, making hushing noises to soothe our daughter, but her own eyes were troubled.
“Tally,” I began, waiting until she looked up and met my gaze.
“You say you wanted to spare Julianna the pain of losing me, the pain you’ve been struggling with since you lost your mother.”
She nodded.
“Would you trade that pain for the loss of the memories you have of her?”
For a moment, she looked confused, then her eyes flared with understanding. “No,” she choked out.
“She could lose you the same way you lost your mother. I could be crossing the road tomorrow and be hit by a car.” I studied her as my words sank in. “Life isn’t guaranteed or wrapped up in a bow, baby. You can’t shield her from it, no matter how much you want to.”
I could see my words hit their mark.
“I need to think,” she murmured.
“Promise me you won’t leave.”
“I won’t. But I need time.”
She walked down the hall, her shoulders bent. I shook my head, wondering if it was too late. If my lies and her running had already broken us. Matteo had warned me breaking her trust would have consequences. Could she forgive me? I had already forgiven her. Listening to the pain in her voice when she talked about her reasons. Although I didn’t totally understand them, I knew to her they were very real and very strong. She had been scared. She still was. What I had said to her had rattled her.
I sat down, feeling despair.
Only time would tell.
Later that night, I heard Julianna fussing, and I slipped into the room, laying my hand on her tummy and running it in circles. She settled immediately, the light touch soothing her. Tally had shown me that trick. I glanced toward the bed, surprised to find it empty.
I headed to the living room, finding Tally staring out the window into the inky darkness of the night. Her thin cotton gown ended at her knees, and her shoulders were bare. I stepped behind her, drawing her back into my arms. Her skin was chilled.
“What are you doing?” I asked quietly, unable to resist pressing a kiss to her shoulder.
“I hurt you,” she whispered. “I was so scared and confused, I hurt you and Julianna with my selfishness.” She drew in a shaky breath. “I thought if I left you first, the pain wouldn’t be as bad since I controlled it. That I wouldn’t miss you every day. Long for you every day. Want to share every little discovery of her with you.”
Despite the pain in her voice, my heart soared at her admission. I tightened my arms around her but didn’t speak.
“My whole pregnancy, I missed you. I took pictures all the time, wrote a journal like I was talking to you, sharing the time with you.”
“I would like to read it.”
“You’re right, Julian. I wouldn’t give up my memories of my mom to erase the pain. I wish I had memories of my dad.” Her voice caught in a sob. “I-I never thought of it that way.”
“I know, baby. I understand.”
She spun in my arms, peering up at me. Her eyes were red-rimmed and filled with tears. It was obvious she had been crying for a long time. “How can you be so forgiving? You must hate me,” she sobbed.
I cradled her face in my hands as I shook my head. “I can’t hate you, baby. I know you were scared and confused. I know your first instinct was to run. I hate the fact that I missed your pregnancy and Julianna’s birth. I hate knowing how alone and scared you’ve been. How much you’ve been handling on your own.” I pressed my forehead to hers. “But I can’t hate you,” I repeated. “I love you too much.”
She gripped my wrists. “Still?”
I met her gaze, letting her see the emotion in my eyes. Wanting her to feel the depth of the feelings I had for her. “Always,” I vowed.
Then my mouth was on hers, our lips moving together. I tasted the salt of her sadness, the sweetness that was her. I pulled her tight to my chest, devouring her mouth, my need and desire for her overwhelming everything else.
She wrapped her arms around me, and I felt every inch of her through the thin material of her gown. I lifted her into my arms, our mouths never separating. I carried her to my room, laying her on the bed, following her down to the mattress, my weight pinning her down. We kissed endlessly, reacquainting ourselves with each other. The nuances of her mouth, the soft shape of her lips underneath mine. All were as new and different as they were familiar and comforting.