Smoke and Sin (The Perfect Gentlemen 4)

“Yeah, I was worried about that, too. I thought we needed more time, and I hoped me taking the job in DC would give us that. But I saw quickly that you didn’t want me the way I wanted you.”

“Don’t presume to understand what I would have wanted.” The younger Roman might have said he didn’t want kids…but the man now wanted that baby deeply. Finding out they’d conceived and miscarried all in the same sentence was a kick in the gut. Gus had borne the pain and carried it all these years alone.

No, she’d had Mad.

Roman closed his eyes. More than anything, he wished he could go back to that night, wished she would tell him right then and there that he was behaving like an asshole and it was time to grow up because they were having a baby.

He wanted to hold her, like he should have that night. He ached to go back and embrace her, never pick that fight…maybe save their baby. But if it had been doomed regardless, then he wanted to be the man who took care of her, who held her hand and eased her pain.

Goddamn it, what had he done?

“Roman, are you okay?” She was suddenly standing in front of him, her hands wrapping around his arms. “I really am sorry I blurted that at you.”

“How far along were you?”

She hesitated. “I think I was about nine weeks along. I was in denial at first. For a while, I convinced myself I was stressed about the job situation, and that was the reason I’d missed a couple of periods.”

His head was reeling, and all that anger he had inside twisted and blew back at him. “And I didn’t notice. But then again, an asshole like me wouldn’t have. Why would I notice something like my girlfriend being pregnant? I would never have noticed you having morning sickness because I tried to make sure no one ever saw me leaving your bed, so I rarely stayed the whole night. Did you go through nausea alone, too?”

“There were a couple of queasy mornings, but I thought it was a touch of flu or something. Roman, it’s ancient history.”

“It just happened to me.” He took a step back. How had he not seen it? “I would have married you, Augustine. If you’d said no, I would have gone straight to your family and gotten them on my side. We would be married.”

“Or divorced,” she said sadly. “I don’t know what would have happened if I hadn’t miscarried. I only know that I did.”

“Because I lost my temper and made you fall down the stairs.” In his mind, he could see her falling even now, see his hand reaching for hers, watch her slip through his fingers. He’d been a second too late.

Gus shook her head, her mouth firming with conviction. “It was an accident. The doctor told me he wasn’t even sure my fall was the cause. Women miscarry all the time in the first trimester. The baby was tiny and well protected. It could have been a coincidence.”

He knew better. Pretending he believed otherwise or spewing meaningless platitudes weren’t going to change a thing. “It wasn’t. I did that to you and our child.”

“Stop, Roman. Stop taking all the blame. I was there, too. I ran down those damn stairs and I knew I was pregnant. I wasn’t careful. All I thought about that night was getting away from you so you wouldn’t see me cry. So maybe you should blame me, too.”

“No.”

Roman couldn’t say more now. Right in the back of his throat sat a sob that he couldn’t release. It nearly strangled him. He had to keep it inside. He had to shove it down because he had to be stronger. Anger was fine. Anger he understood, but the emotion he wrestled with now threatened to take him apart. If he gave in to it, he didn’t know if he’d be able to come back. He would be shattered, and right now, he wasn’t sure he was strong enough to put himself back together.

“Don’t,” she said, rising up on her toes and leaning into his space. “I didn’t want to hurt or upset you. Forgive me.”

“Forgive you?”

“For not telling you. For not being honest until now. For lashing out in anger over a truth you didn’t even know. For letting my pride hurt us both.” She stroked his arms, palms gliding over his skin like a benediction. Soothing. Her words were calm and measured, meant to ease him.

Why was she touching him softly? Asking his forgiveness? He didn’t deserve either, not when this was all his doing. He started to pull back.

She held on to him. “Don’t walk away. Don’t leave me. Stay. I don’t think about what happened a lot, Roman. I try not to obsess about the baby we could have had, but when I do think about him or her, I’m almost always alone. Don’t make me be alone tonight.”

She’d mourned by herself. She’d been alone all these years—with the singular exception of Mad, who’d kept her secret.

No wonder every time Mad had looked at him after that, his eyes had held contempt.

The anger he used to feel whenever he thought of Gus with Mad? He couldn’t summon it anymore. Mad had been there for her. The man should have called him out, but he never had. He’d just shouldered the responsibility Roman should have.

Once, they’d been the best of friends, but Mad had chosen Gus. Thank god someone had been smart enough to.

Tonight’s Deep Throat had been right. He’d always chosen Zack. He’d placed Zack, and more importantly their quest for the White House, above everything else. Above Augustine. Above his own heart.

He wrapped his arms around her as she began to cry. “I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so sorry. I’d give anything to change that night.”

She clutched him in return and sobbed in his arms. And Roman felt something inside him open, some door that had always been closed and locked up tight.

When he felt his own tears come—tears for the child they’d lost, for the years they’d missed out on—that sob he’d been trying to hold back came. And he knew he would never be the same again.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Gus looked across the small, sparse cottage and found Roman staring out the window as the rain began to fall again.

“Do you take milk with your tea?” Ellen House asked, setting the tray on the coffee table between them.

Gus smiled her way. “No, thank you, but I will take a sugar. And we both thank you for your hospitality. I know talking about your mother must be hard.”

Ellen House was a petite woman in her early fifties, though she looked significantly older. Her hair was a steely gray and cut into a pixie style that didn’t at all suit her face, but was likely simple to keep up. Her house was neat if a bit sparse when it came to human furniture.

It was far more crowded with cats and items to amuse them.

Gus had counted ten different felines so far, and those were merely the ones that had sauntered in and out of the living room while Ellen prepared the tea.

One of them slunk up to Roman, rubbing its long-haired body against his thousand dollar slacks and making him jump.

“Why don’t you come and sit with me?” Gus offered. “Do you want some tea?”

Grim-faced, Roman turned and joined her on the tiny couch.

“I want some Scotch,” he muttered under his breath. “And whatever repels cats. This one won’t leave me alone.”

Ellen smiled and poured another cup. “Ah, that’s Mr. Darcy. Don’t mind him. He’s a lover, not a fighter. Never did have any kids of my own so I adopted these fur babies. I’m as much of a mother to them as I would be to a human, and I love them like they’re my children.”

Roman suddenly folded his hand into hers, palms sliding and fingers connecting. His mouth was flat, his body rigid. The mention of kids now was still a sore spot for him.

Gus leaned against him, offering him her silent support. “You certainly treat them well.”

They’d spent the previous evening wrapped in each other’s arms. After they shared their initial sorrow and tears, Roman had stripped her bare and settled her in bed. She’d been sure he would make love to her. She’d had mixed feelings about that, but sex was often how they coped when emotions overwhelmed them.

Instead, he’d doffed his own clothes and climbed in next

to her. He’d drawn her close and turned off the light. There, in the warm darkness, wrapped up in one another, they’d talked about the child they’d lost. They’d shared how broken they’d both felt after they’d split up. She’d admitted that she’d kept the job in DC because she hadn’t been able to go home and face her parents, so she’d thrown herself in to work. He’d done the same.

They’d confessed how much they’d regretted letting pride, immaturity, stupidity, and fear come between them. Gus felt lighter than she had in over a dozen years.