Lucas

This fucking place again. The familiar sterile scent pervades the air like a toxic cloud of dread. Like some sick joke, I’m surrounded by pictures of smiling women, some with pregnant bellies, others holding babies. A few of them depicting what looks like several generations of the same family—grandmothers and mothers with their daughters. It’s meant to be inviting. A barren room concealed under layers of artificial comfort. But for me, instead of having the desired effect, the happiness that radiates from those pictures is in direct contradiction to the fury tearing out my insides.

It’s my third time sitting in this waiting room but unlike before, where those images aroused thoughts of possibilities and all that could be, today I resent that I allowed those seeds of hope to take root. Even worried out of my mind the last time, I remember the wistful feeling that filled my chest at the sight of a soon-to-be mother cradling her round belly. I could see it so clearly in my mind, my Embree, cradling our unborn child. It filled me with such longing that I couldn’t help but stare at those images, noting every detail while imagining the utter joy that would consume my battered heart at the knowledge it was my child growing inside her beautiful body. What I wouldn’t give to see the radiant glow on her face as she beamed at the sight of our newborn baby while I stood back, capturing the moment with awe and tears in my eyes.

Fuck!

I never should have let those thoughts settle in, especially with my track record. Knowing what I know about the power of the mind, instead of imagining the future family I wanted with her, I should have heeded the alarm bells going off inside my head. I should have listened to the internal voice that, like a broken record, reminds me I’m not worthy of anything more than the miserable life I’ve already endured.

“Christ.” I collapse forward, elbows on my knees, my face cast down toward the ground I wish would open up to swallow me whole. “Jesus Christ!” This time the words boom through the empty room, as my anxiety overwhelms me to the point I stand to pace the space.

With every pass by those perfectly framed photographs, my eyes well up with emotion I refuse to let spill. I know what this feeling is. It’s a maddening sort of desperation because I want to experience everything that’s on those damn walls. I want it all. A pregnant wife. A brand new baby. Daughters and sons. A family of my own, all of it, and only with Embree. I want it so damn bad that no matter how hard I try to push the imagined scenarios away, I can’t escape them. They leave me breathless, out of sorts, and more determined than ever to do whatever it takes to never let her go.

And then my thoughts go back to this morning. The way Embree looked at me with tears in her eyes as we made love—so sad and sweet. The way she allowed me to take her without a condom, and forced me to stay inside of her as long as she could. 

Is she getting ready to say goodbye? 

Is that what this morning was about?

Fuck! Suddenly unable to stand, I fall into the nearest chair, dropping my face into my hands. I should have tried harder. I should have pushed her to talk and demanded she let me in. Ben is right about this one thing. It’s up to me to fix this, and it starts with letting her know in no uncertain terms that I will no longer accept any secrets between us. She needs to understand that I am ready to fight for her and the life and family I’ve only ever wanted with her.

“Lucas?” At the sound of Hannah’s voice, my eyes snap to the doorway and there she stands.

My Embree.

While Hannah’s expression is friendly, my girl looks absolutely crestfallen. The sight of her anguish intensifies the ache inside my chest. With tears welling in my eyes, I go to her and wrap her in my arms. The need to comfort her, to find my own comfort in the electrifying connection that binds us and grows stronger when we touch, is damn near blinding. My heart… my soul, every cell inside my body screams at me to fix this. Now! Once and for all.

“She’s alright Lucas. It’s been a tough couple of months. She just needs a little rest.”

Though my bullshit detector beeps angrily, I nod, then ask, “Can she go?”

When she gives the okay, I pull Emilia to my side and lead her and Nero back to the empty parking lot where my car waits. When we’re loaded in, I start the ignition but can’t bring myself to pull away.

“Embree. Whatever’s wrong, know that I refuse to give up on us. As I told you the night of our date when we first made love, you are mine. No more bullshit. No more waiting. You have always been mine, and I will fight every objection you throw my way. While I stand by my word that every decision going forward is yours to make, it does not apply to this. I’m not letting you go. Do not ask that of me, because that is not happening. Not now, not ever. I love you too much to let you go.”

As she collapses into sobs, I shift the car into drive and head towards home. Refusing to let her fully withdraw into herself, I take her hand, stroking her soft skin with my thumb as her body continues to convulse with the pain of her secret. I fucking hate seeing her like this, and whereas yesterday I would have backed down and done everything I could to get those tears to stop, I refuse to make the same mistakes again. Instinct tells me whatever this is, the only way to get past it is to push her. To force her into a confrontation, to back her into a corner until she’s desperate for escape. To get her to where she’s willing to fight for us, I first need her to fight for herself. 

When we’re back at the house, I park the car and turn towards her. “We need to talk. I’ll ask Annelly to stay with the girls while we head upstairs. There’s no way around this, Embree. We’re dealing with this now because I refuse to let this fester any longer.” Reaching into the glove box for a tissue, I hand it to her. After taking a few seconds to compose herself, she meets my gaze. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah,” she answers in a quivering voice, while her wide bloodshot eyes scream a resounding no. I fucking hate seeing the depths of her fear, but starting today, I refuse to let her hide from me. I’m not him. I will not have her yield herself or her feelings for me.

When we go inside, the girls are so excited to see us that it takes almost a half hour before we can sneak away. Afraid she might try to back out, I don’t let go of her hand, and to my relief, she doesn’t pull it away. By the time we make it upstairs, her body is a ball of pent-up tension and when I look into her eyes after shutting the bedroom door behind us, what I see damn near rips my heart in two. Her normally rosy skin is pale, all color seemingly washed away by the silent tears streaming down her face. The way she’s looking at me, with eyes wide and jaw trembling, shocks me and for a second I almost regret how I’ve handled her since leaving Hannah’s office. The last thing I want is for her to be afraid of me, but at the same time, the way I’ve approached the situation the past few weeks hasn’t helped either.

“Emb, please don’t be scared. No matter what transpires over the course of this conversation, I would never hurt you.”

“I know,” is her response, but her fear never wanes. “But it’s me who’s going to hurt you.”

It’s then that the cold ball of dread that’s descended upon me like a dark cloud expands into a shadow of doom, smothering the light. The good. The hope. The future I want.

She’s going to leave me.

The prospect scares me out of my mind, awakening the demons she’s silenced just by her mere presence in my life. Angry and demanding, they take root, reminding me I’m worthless. That I’m tainted and therefore not deserving of the life I’m so desperate to hold on to. Clawing their way through my subconscious, they asphyxiate me, cutting off my airway and forcing me to pace like a shark who will die if it stands still. 

“What are you saying, Emilia?” I respond harshly, the shake in my voice betraying I’m more scared than angry. At the sound of her real name coming from my lips, she flinches like I’ve hurt her, but right now I’m too consumed with my pain to care.

“Please. Can we sit down?”

“No.” She’s only prolonging the inevitable pain. “Spit it out. Put me out of my goddamn misery and just say it.” I know I’m being a dick. I can see it mirrored back at me behind the pain in her eyes, but try as I might, I’m not strong enough to stop. The sudden emptiness inside me throbs without abandon with every breath I attempt to take. When again she hesitates, I explode. “Fucking say it!” 

As desolation settles its icy claws over me, my knees go weak. Collapsing on the edge of the bed, I drop my head, doing my best to breathe through the panic coursing through my veins. “Please… Just. Say. It.”

“I’m pregnant.”

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Author’s Note:

This is a heart-wrenching scene as Lucas attempts to work through what's happening between him and Emilia.

How do you feel about what happened? Do you think forcing Embree to finally tell him the truth is a good idea? Now that she's told him she's pregnant, how do you think Lucas will react?

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