If I held him, he’d cease to be a study in human development and become real.
Far, far too real.
Shaking my head, I laughed to hide the horrid secrets of why I would never hold her baby. “No, I’m fine. I’m happier just watching. Thanks, though.”
“Not a fan of children, huh?” Tess winked. “I get that. They require a special kind of tolerance. Sometimes holding them is a feat in power with how they squirm and get into mischief.” Lino pulled her hair and growled a baby growl, proving her point. “But if you change your mind, the offer is always open. Just grab him.”
I didn’t want to come across cold-hearted and untouched by her generosity to share her son, but I also couldn’t endure the pain of correcting her.
Instead, I laughed softly, letting her believe her reasons were mine, looking away to fixate on something less painful.
Unfortunately, I caught Q’s eye as he bypassed the couch with a black folder tucked under his arm.
With a knowing stare, he leaned down and scooped Lino from his wife’s embrace.
Tess rose on her knees to claim a kiss before Q gave me a narrowed look and murmured to his wife as if I wasn’t there. “She won’t change her mind, esclave.”
Tess shot me a look, then glanced back to her husband. “She might. I know people who say they don’t want children sometimes change their minds.”
Q shook his head, piercing me with a green glower. “I apologise, Pimlico. My wife is far too optimistic and doesn’t see what is staring her in the face.” He shot her a disapproving, adoring look. “She’s too resilient, I’m afraid. Forgets sometimes.”
I shifted on the couch, uncomfortable. “I’m not sure I understand—”
His nostrils flared as Lino tugged on his lapels. He shut down as if he didn’t want to admit what he meant.
I should’ve just let it go. I should’ve read between the lines. I should’ve saved myself a world of hurt.
But I didn’t. I was an idiot. “Tell me.”
He sighed heavily as if it cost him deeply to be honest. “What Tess doesn’t see is that it isn’t because you don’t want children, it’s because you can’t. That’s why you won’t hold my son.” He inhaled hard, his eyes apologising even as his voice remained cold, stripping me to pieces. “You’re not the first to come into my care who can no longer have children from what was done to them. Under no circumstances should you feel less than or broken.”
My shoulders curled. I gasped as a fresh wash of agony crashed.
His tone softened as Lino cooed. “This is a private matter, but I myself believed I was infertile for a time, so I understand the pain of wanting something but never knowing if it’s possible.”
I hugged myself, rolling over my knees.
“Q…stop.” Tess turned white, clambering from the floor and moving to his side as if to prevent him from saying any more.
I was glad she tried to shut him up. I wouldn’t be able to tell him to quit butchering me with his cold compassion. I had no breath in my lungs to breathe, let alone waste any on arguments trying to convince him he was wrong.
I so desperately wished I could laugh coyly and throw him off the scent of my tragedy. To convince them and me that children weren’t living, breathing ghosts in my blood, never to become real.
But Q didn’t listen to his wife, determined on lashing me to nothing, even as he tried to be kind. “I understand infertility and the loss you must feel but don’t think you will forever be without. There are other ways.”
“Q,” Tess hissed, reaching for Lino. “Let it go.”
He ignored her. “We donate and run many charities who save orphaned children and animals from around the world. In fact, one of the orphanages I helped set up is right here in Blois. It’s one of the few left. People don’t believe in orphanages anymore, but I do. I’ve seen how living in a safe community can help heal trauma because my own home is an orphanage for abused slaves. Children need the same network—”
“Q!” Tess snapped, her cheeks red and lips thin. “I said, enough.”
Bleak darkness entered his gaze as if he couldn’t quite believe he’d spilled such truths and forced himself into my problems. “Merde, forgive me, Pimlico.” He muttered something in French, something self-derisive and sharp followed by strained English. “Just like my wife didn’t think, it seems I have the same flaw.”
I can’t do this.
I can’t be here anymore.
Stumbling upright, I swayed as my lungs stayed tight, restricting air. “It-it’s okay.” Gulping oxygen, suffering the familiar pressure of panic seeping like glue into my chest, I fought against the tunnelling of my vision, the clawing of my throat.
I needed to find a place where I could be alone.