Castle Hill (On Dublin Street 3.5)

Ellie must have called him and he’d guessed exactly where I’d go.

Braden’s features grew alarmed at the sight of me and he hurried toward me, gripping my arms in his hands. “Sweetheart, what happened?”

“I’m pregnant,” I blurted out, the tears spilling down my cheeks.

Braden jerked back like I’d hit him. He stared at me a long time, as if trying to figure me out. Just like that he looked like he’d been punched in the gut. “So you came here?” he whispered incredulously.

I didn’t know what that meant, but I realized quickly it didn’t mean anything good.

“Braden—”

“Don’t. ” He cut me off, turning from me. “Not here. ”

There was an uneasiness, a new fear, in leaving my place before I’d gotten a chance to work through everything in my head. I’d just wanted that chance before Braden and I . . .

We walked in tense silence back down the hill and out of the castle. Braden had a taxi waiting for us on the esplanade. I was so out of it I didn’t even realize Braden hadn’t touched me. He opened the door for me but he didn’t put his hand on my arm to help me in. He didn’t scoot near me once we were inside. I’d realize this all later, when my brain wasn’t a tumult of thoughts and my stomach and chest weren’t awash with too many feelings.

Not a word was spoken between us, not until the door to our flat was closed behind us and we stood facing each other in the kitchen.

Braden’s features were hard in a way I didn’t like. “You’re pregnant with my child and that’s such fucking awful news you go to the castle?”

I couldn’t believe he thought . . . That wasn’t it at all!

“Braden—”

“Are you happy or are you unhappy?” he snapped, his glittering with desperation.

My heart was pounding so hard in my chest, I thought I might vomit. “Braden. ” My lips trembled, my nose stinging. “It’s not that simple. ”

He jerked back again, a pain in his eyes that he quickly banked.

“Let me—”

I didn’t get a chance to finish. He was out of the flat too fast.

Trembling, I sank into a chair. Not only hadn’t I been given a chance to process my own feelings, I was left confused and afraid of Braden’s. He was the kind of man who gave you a chance to explain, but he’d obviously taken my reaction to the pregnancy the wrong way, and now he was too hurt to listen.

I just needed to explain.

He had to listen.

***

It was late, but I left a message on Dr. Pritchard’s work voice mail asking if I could schedule an appointment that week. Dr. Kathryn Pritchard was my therapist and she’d helped me come a long way in dealing with my post-traumatic stress disorder. She’d helped me grieve for my family and she’d helped me work through my fears. I hadn’t scheduled a session with her in a while, but I needed someone impartial to talk to.

Braden stayed gone for hours. I got a text from Ellie asking me if I was okay. It was a dead giveaway that Braden had told Adam about my pregnancy and Ellie knew. She was trying to figure out how to deal with me. I knew this because normally she’d call me or even come around to the flat. A text for news this huge . . . Yeah, she didn’t know how to handle my reaction.

Staring down at the photo of me with my family Braden had framed and given me for Christmas, I tried to force my insides back together again. I gazed at Beth, my baby sister who I held tight in my arms, and I attempted to do this by understanding exactly what it was I was feeling. The fear was coloring everything, I wasn’t even sure that I was unhappy with the idea of being a mom. It was soon. Sooner that I’d wanted, but if I could just get past the fear, maybe I would see it wouldn’t be such a bad thing. Not such a bad thing at all. This baby was a product of Braden and me. A part of him. A beautiful piece of him. A gift we’d given each other.

As much as I loved the makeshift family I’d created in Edinburgh, this was my chance at my very own family again.

That clawing pressure pushed and ripped at my chest but I fought through it, taking deep, even breaths.

Now I just had to explain all this to Braden so he’d see I wasn’t pulling another “Ellie moment,” pushing him out when things got tough like I did when Ellie was diagnosed with a brain tumor. I just wanted him to understand what was going on inside of me.

See. I had come a long way.

I jumped at the sound of the door opening and shutting. My pulse throbbed harder beneath my skin as Braden’s footsteps grew louder the closer he got to our bedroom.

He stood against the dark backdrop of the hall, the soft light in our bedroom barely casting him out of the shadow, but I could see his expression was tired. Grim, even.

I sat up, waiting.

“Today was supposed to be the happiest day of our lives. ”

Guilt gnawed at my stomach and I winced apologetically.

“I need an answer,” he demanded softly. “I need to know if you’re happy to be pregnant with my kid. After everything we’ve been through, I need that answer. ”

I shifted, reaching out to him. “Please, just let me explain. I’ll—”

“Wrong answer,” he uttered bitingly, his expression shutting down. “I can’t believe you . . . after everything . . . that we’re back here again. ” He turned, leaving me shocked, openmouthed as he stormed down our hall. A door slammed and I hopped off the bed and into the hall to watch a light come on, shining under the guest bedroom door.