Sadness shook his head. “Frankie.”
“No, Uncle, no.”
It wasn’t fair. Wasn’t fair that this curse could steal the life right out of her hands.
Evan.
Oh God, Evan was going to be destroyed.
Blame himself forever.
She gasped for a breath.
It felt like her lungs were collapsing.
Closing in.
Shutting down.
“Please,” she begged, pain sheering through her insides. Twisting her in half. Cutting her in two.
He climbed down to his knees in front of her. “I am sorry, Frankie. I . . . I am devastated over this, and I know it doesn’t come close to what you are feeling right now.” He took her by the hand. “If there was anything . . . anything in this world that I could do, you know that I would. I have to recommend you terminate this pregnancy, Frankie Leigh.”
She clutched at her chest, feeling like her heart was getting ripped right out. “No. No. I can’t do that.”
“Frankie.”
“I can’t.” She clawed away from him, flying from the chair, shaking her hands out in front of her like it could possibly wake her up from this nightmare. She paced, stumbled, tried not to fall to her knees.
But she was breaking.
Breaking, breaking, breaking.
And she had no idea how she was going to come back from this.
How would she ever tell Evan?
The movement of his hands flew behind her eyes. Memories ingrained.
The statements that he’d made.
FRANKIE, WE AREN’T GETTING MARRIED OR HAVING BABIES OR LIVING HAPPILY EVER AFTER. WE WERE JUST LITTLE KIDS. YOU NEED TO GET OVER THAT.
Oh God. Oh God.
Tears raced and her pulse shuddered and her mind whirred with the thoughts.
Flashes of hopes and dreams and dread and fear.
She remembered her childhood belief. All the hearts she’d sewn into that froggy for Evan. Believing there would always be one there for him if he needed it.
If only she could do that for this child. Believe hard enough, and it would be.
She clutched at the bump that was just beginning to show.
Agony clawed as a rush of love flooded into her system.
She looked back at her uncle Kale. “I can’t.”
They drove in silence back to Gingham Lakes. Music quietly playing. A melody that was meant to soothe, but there was no comfort that Frankie Leigh could find.
She rubbed mindlessly at the bump.
Baby girl. Baby girl.
And she prayed with all she had that she could feel her. That she would know, even if she never got to hold her, that she would be forever loved. That Evan wouldn’t take it on as a burden.
As a sin.
The phone ringing through the speakers nearly made her jump out of her skin. Everything too sensitive. Too sharp. Too shrill.
Hope’s name came up on the dash screen. “Hey, baby,” Uncle Kale answered, though his voice was subdued. Different than his normal casual easiness.
But Aunt Hope. Aunt Hope was screaming on the other end of the line. “It’s Evan. He collapsed in class. They brought him by ambulance . . . he wasn’t breathing. Oh, God. Kale.”
A guttural sob tore from Frankie’s throat.
Instant.
Like it’d been waiting right there to explode.
Climbing out from where it had rotted and decayed. From the deepest, most sinister place. From that place that would whisper its menace in her ear, tell her she was going to lose everything that meant the most to her.
It was the first time she believed it might speak the truth.
E-V-A-N.
She rushed into the hospital room.
He was breathing.
Alive.
Whole.
She dropped to her knees at his bedside.
Sobbing and sobbing and sobbing.
Because she couldn’t control it anymore.
She was weak.
Losing the battle.
“Oh God,” she whimpered, pressing her face into his arm, fingers digging into his skin, inhaling him, wanting to crawl on top of him and hug him tight and beg him to never leave her alone.
She wanted to attach herself to him in some fundamental way. Seep into his bloodstream and heal all that was wrong. Do it for their child who would never know what it was like to run and play.
“I can’t, Evan, oh God, I can’t.”
A swell of sickness slammed her, and fumbled for the trash bin next to his bed, and she puked up the little that was in her stomach.
No longer able to keep it together.
No longer able to keep herself from fallin’ apart.
He reached for her.
Squeezed her hand.
So much sorrow in his expression. Green eyes overflowing with an apology.
“I’m sorry,” he said, brushing his thumb across the tears soaking her cheek. “I am sorry, Frankie.”
She kept weeping, unable to stop.
“I can’t, Evan. I can’t,” she was rumbling, tears a blanket down her face, wanting to tell him about the baby but unable to force the words from her tongue. “I can’t.”
Evan pulled her close, ran his fingers through her hair, pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “It’s okay.”
But it was so, so not okay.
* * *
Frankie Leigh.
My Sunshine.
My Unicorn Girl.
I am the most selfish man. I’ve been taking what I never should have. Stealing more time than I should have been given.