Marriage Without Love & More Than a Convenient Marriage?

Adara wiped at her still-leaking eyes and tried to pull herself together so Gideon wouldn’t worry. He had been right. It was okay. Nico was and always had been her big brother in every way that counted. Nevertheless, her heart was cracking open under the pressure of deep feeling. She desperately craved the arms of her husband to cushion her from the sensation of rawness.

As she went in search of him outside, she saw him settling into a chair at the patio table, his back to her. Biting her lips together, she tried not to burst into happy tears as she stepped through the door and moved to his side—

—where she found him holding a baby, smiling indulgently at the infant as if the tot was the most precious thing in the world.

The kick of pain blindsided her. For a second she was paralyzed by the crash back to the reality of their imperfect life, winded so much she wasn’t able to move, let alone retreat, before Gideon glanced up and saw the devastated expression on her face.

If he’d been caught with Lexi in flagrante delicto, he couldn’t have looked more culpable. It wouldn’t have hurt this badly.

“She’s on crutches. The baby was hungry. I couldn’t say no,” he defended quickly while his arm moved in the most subtly protective way to draw the baby closer to his chest. In the way of a natural father sheltering his young.

At the same time, his free hand shot out to take Adara’s arm in an unbreakable grip.

“You look like you’re going to fall down. Sit.” He half rose, used one foot to angle a chair for her and maneuvered her into it.

Adara’s legs gave out as she sank into the chair. She buried her face in her hands and frantically reminded herself that her emotions were pushed to the very edge of endurance right now. The bigger picture here wasn’t that he was stealing an opportunity to cuddle a baby because she couldn’t give him one. He was getting to know their niece.

Longing rose in her as she made that connection and a different, more tender kind of emotion filled her, sweet with the layers of reunion with family that had driven her here in the first place. She lifted her head and held out her hands.

“Can I hold her? Please?”

“Of course.” He transferred the baby’s weight into her arms and Adara nearly dissolved into a puddle of maternal love. “Her name’s Evie. Adara, I wasn’t—”

She shook her head.

His hand came up to the side of her neck, trapping her hair against her nape as he forced her to look at him and said in a fierce whisper. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you.”

“I know. It’s okay,” she assured him, rubbing her cheek on the hardness of his wrist. “I just wasn’t expecting it, that’s all. I’m not mad.”

He cupped the side of her face and leaned across to kiss her once, hard. “You scared me. I thought I was going to lose you.”

She had to consciously remember to hold on to the baby while her limbs softened and her heart shifted in her chest. Every time she thought they didn’t have a hope in the world of making something of their marriage, he said something like that and completely enchanted her.

Voices made them break their intense stare into each other’s eyes.

“I’m not being a grouch,” her brother growled as he emerged from the house carrying his wife in the cradle of his arms. “But you were discharged early because you promised to keep it elevated, so I think you should do that, don’t you?”

Gideon moved to pull out a chair so Rowan could slide down onto it, then he offered a hand to Nico. “Gideon.”

“Nic,” her brother said, completely pulled together after his tearful reassurances to her a few minutes ago. He’d never stopped caring or worrying about her all this time, just as she had for him. She was loved, was worth loving. It was a startling adjustment, like learning she wasn’t an ugly duckling but a full-fledged swan.

Could Gideon see the change in her?

He wore a mask of subtle tension as he took his seat. No one else seemed to notice. Nic opened wine and Rowan stole the empty bottle of milk from her baby and handed Adara a burping towel.

When Nic set a glass of sparkling white before her, he smiled indulgently at Adara’s attempt to pat a belch out of his daughter. “Looks like you know what you’re doing. Do you have children?”

The canyon of inadequacy yawned before her, but Gideon squeezed her thigh and spoke with a neutrality she couldn’t manage. “We’ve tried,” he said simply. “It hasn’t worked out.”

“I’m sorry,” Nic said with a grimace that spoke of a man wanting to kick himself for saying the wrong thing, but he couldn’t have known.

“Not being able to get pregnant seemed like a horrible tragedy for me at first,” Rowan said conversationally. “But we wouldn’t have Evie otherwise and we can’t imagine life without her. We’re so smitten, we’re like the only two people to ever have a baby, aren’t we, Nic?”

“It’s true,” he admitted unabashedly while he settled into his own chair and absently eased Rowan’s bandaged leg to balance across his thigh. His hand caressed her ankle, their body language speaking of utter relaxation and familiarity with each other. “I don’t know what I did to deserve such good fortune.”

The fierce look of deep love he gave his wife and the tender way she returned it was almost too intimate to witness, but Adara found herself holding her breath as yearning filled her. I want that, she thought, but even though she felt Gideon’s fingers circle tenderly on the inside of her knee, she didn’t imagine for a minute she’d get it.

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