“He used to drink. A lot.” She breathed in sharply, memories assailing her. “He’d say awful things when he was drunk. Things that really hurt.”
Logan frowned. “Did he ever hit you?”
She pulled her lip between her teeth. “Only once. He promised not to do it again and he didn’t. But the words…” She blew out a mouthful of air. “They were painful enough.”
“Court… damn.”
“I know.” She inhaled sharply. “The night he died we had a huge argument. He kept telling me we should have a baby. Make it all better. And I told him I’d never have kids with him. It made him so angry. He stalked to the bathroom, found my birth control pills, and flushed them all down the toilet. Then he tried to kiss me.” She grimaced. “And I told him it was over. That I wanted a divorce.”
“What did he do?”
“Threw things around. Ranted. Then he called his brother and left a message for them to meet at a bar.”
“Carl?”
“Yeah, that’s right. But he never made it to the bar. They say it was an accident. That he was tired and fell asleep. And that’s why he drove into the oncoming traffic.” She swallowed hard. “But part of me never believed that.”
“You think he killed himself?”
“I don’t know,” she replied honestly. “But what I do know is it’s my fault. If we hadn’t argued, he wouldn’t have left that night, and he’d still be alive.” Her breath caught in her throat. For so long she’d been afraid to admit it, to herself more than anybody else. It was her fault that Ellis and Mary had lost a son. That they had to manage the farm without his strong hands to help.
There was no way she’d ever leave them to manage the farm for themselves. Not when she was the one who’d caused all the problems.
“He was a drunk. You said it yourself. Him dying wasn’t your fault. The same way it wouldn’t have been your fault if he’d been run over by a bus. He was a grown man. Made his own decisions. Ones that were nothing to do with you and everything to do with addiction.”
“The end result is the same.” She smiled wanly. “They lost a son.”
Logan reached for her, pulling her close to him, his face against her curls. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m sorry he hurt you. And I’m sorry you’re still hurting. But you’re not alone.”
A sob escaped from her throat. The gentleness of his tone, his touch, made her want to bury herself in him. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“For what?”
“For not judging me.”
“I’d never judge you. I’m not a judgey kind of guy.” He slid his arms around her, pressing his lips against her hair. “I can’t believe you’ve beat yourself up for so long about this. Did you ever talk to anybody about it?”
“I went to grief counseling,” she told him. “But I felt like a fraud. It was one of those group things. Everybody else was so devastated at their loss. And though I was too, I also felt so damn guilty. I kept thinking that if they really knew about me, about our arguments, that they’d blame me for his death.” The same way she blamed herself.
“It’s not your fault,” he said again. “People die. I watched my mom leave us and it almost killed me, but I knew it wasn’t my fault.”
She gave a soft nod. “I was the same with my mom. It was awful and overwhelming, but I didn’t feel any guilt. Not like with Shaun.”
“There’s every chance that if he hadn’t died that night, he would have drunk himself to death.” Logan stroked her hair. “And that wouldn’t have been your fault either.”
She knew he was speaking the truth, yet somehow it still didn’t soothe her the way she’d hoped it would. Shaun had wanted what she couldn’t give. One way or another that had led to his death.
“Maybe I’m just really bad at marriage,” she muttered.
He chuckled. “Hey, you’re talking to the biggest relationship loser, remember? You can’t be as bad as me.”
She glanced up at him, cupping her belly with her palm. “This poor kid really lucked out.”
Logan moved his head down, his hazel eyes intent as he brushed his lips against hers. “Our kid really has lucked out having you as a mom. I can’t think of anybody who’ll make a better one.”
She gave him a half smile. “How do you always know the right things to say?”
“I don’t. I wish I did. Most of the time I open my mouth and crap comes spilling out.”