Past Regrets: Love and Friendship, Book 2 (21 page)

Up on the stage another performance was ready to start. The crowd seemed to straighten, the heightened interest a living, breathing thing. A purple spotlight flicked on, highlighting a masked brunette woman in a tight purple gown. She held two large purple fans in her hands. The patrons around him took a collective breath as they waited for her to commence.

Ryan wove between the tables, eager to see Julia again. A snatched phone call wasn’t enough. A security guard stood in front of the door leading to the dressing room. Ryan didn’t recognize the man.

“You can’t go in there.” The man might be elderly, but he possessed the solid hulk of a rugby forward, the crisp white shirt and black trousers all of Julia’s frontline staff wore highlighting the fact he’d kept up his fitness. “Staff only.”

“I’m Julia’s husband,” Ryan said. “I’ll wait while you check with her.” He appreciated the man’s caution and didn’t mind waiting.

The man returned with Julia on his heels. She bore a wide grin of welcome.

“Ryan, I didn’t expect you so early.” She threw her arms around him and squeezed him hard.

“Caleb and I were able to catch an earlier flight.” Despite the audience, he kissed her, taking his time.
Delaying the talk
, his conscience prompted because his son was a ticking bomb. “Do you have a minute?” He’d promised the babysitter he’d be back as soon as he’d spoken to Julia.

Her smile died, the pleasure at seeing him fading from her expression. “You look serious.”

He shrugged. “I need to tell you what happened in Sydney.”

Julia led him into the office and shut the door, proud of the way she’d greeted him without a hint of the anger and confusion or the plain panic that roiled like a ship in a storm inside her. “I saw the paper. The kid is yours.”

“Yes.”

Something in the way he answered made her scrutinize him more closely. She swallowed, afraid of what he might say next. Mentally, she ordered herself to calm down, but fearful thoughts collided with the secrets she’d kept, shoving her frustration levels higher. She cleared her throat, intending to ask about the child. That wasn’t what emerged. “I can’t have children,” she said baldly, cringing inside while she waited for the fallout. “Not easily because of the STD I caught.”

“What?”

She closed her eyes, pain stabbing her chest, making it difficult to breathe, to think. She groped for the words to make him understand. She should have told him about the baby weeks ago, but talking about it brought back horrid memories of pain and feeling achingly alone. Loss. Guilt. The panic she’d experienced when she couldn’t contact Ryan, the awful moment when she finally accepted they were over. “I’ve tried to tell you a dozen times.”

Ryan gaped at her. “But we talked about children. Why didn’t you tell me when I moved in with you?”

“How?” she demanded, her nostrils flaring. Heat flushed her cheeks as she fought the urge to fling an empty coffee cup at his head. “It’s hard enough to think about, let alone talk to anyone else. You told me you wanted children when the time was right. What did you want me to say?”

“Do your friends know?”

It was difficult to read him, with his hard face devoid of emotion. Yet his pale blue eyes bored into her, demanding answers, returning her glower with interest. She swallowed hard and studied her red shoes, noting the scuff on the left one.

“Julia.”

God, she had to tell him. She scowled at the offending scuff mark. “When you were on tour in Europe I discovered I was pregnant.” Her lips twisted as her words tumbled out. “Hell of a shock since I was on the Pill. I tried to contact you and you know I failed.”

“Julia.” Ryan moved closer and gripped her forearms. “What happened to the baby? Did you—” He broke off abruptly, his breathing sounding harsh in the enclosed office.

“I miscarried,” she snapped, lifting her chin to meet his unfounded accusation. She would never…he could shove his thoughts right back where they came from. “I didn’t abort the baby or give it away. I miscarried, Ryan. Christina and Susan found me unconscious in my apartment.” She couldn’t see, couldn’t focus on him, and realized her face was damp. She sniffed, knuckling away the moisture from her eyes. “I didn’t understand how much I wanted the baby until they told me I’d lost it. When the doctor told me it would be difficult to have more children I was devastated.”

“Hell!” He dragged his hand through his dark hair, leaving it ruffled. He took half a step toward her and halted, his arms falling to his sides. “I’m sorry. All this happened about the time I was mugged?”

She nodded, unable to speak past the lumpy obstruction growing in her throat. Her hands clenched and unclenched. He had a child. She groped to deal with the thoughts swirling through her mind, the white noise, the pain of losing their baby. Guilt because she kept wondering if she’d done things differently with her pregnancy. A rush of envy and resentment because he had a child with another woman.

“I can’t…I…can we talk about this tomorrow?” When she glanced at him, she caught his look of anguish and it ricocheted back to her, making her feel as if she rode an out of control train. Nausea curdled her stomach, and she swallowed rapidly.

“Hell.” Apparently his go-to word. His fingers worked his hair until the strands stood to attention, as agitated as him.

His reluctance to look at her forced a cry from deep in her chest. It halted at the clog halfway up her throat.

“Fuck.” His harsh whisper throbbed with pain. “Julia, I’m sorry. This isn’t good timing, but I need to tell you something.”

“What?” Something in her gut coiled tight and kept tightening until she wondered if she might snap and fly apart.

“The mother of the kid didn’t want him. She signed him over to me.”

Her mind whooshed. It buzzed and clanged with frenzied thoughts, with helplessness, with stabs of pain.

A child
.

She gasped for air. The reality of Ryan’s son forced raw memories to the surface—memories of her baby, their baby. The stunned surprise on learning she was pregnant. Her initial panic, slowly replaced by the joy that encroached, one day at a time. She’d wanted to be a mother, wanted it so desperately. Then came the sheer black terror of knowing there was a problem, the agonizing cramps in her belly, the knowledge she was losing her baby. She pressed her right hand to muffle her cry of pain, the memories she’d concealed and boxed away ripping jagged holes in her composure. “I…I…can’t. I…”

Ryan stared at her, his lips pressed together, his impatience obvious in his glance toward the door. “I have to go. I’m staying at my old apartment tonight with Caleb and need to get back to relieve the babysitter.”

Julia stared at him, unable to pluck the requisite words from her cement-mixer mind. The pause lengthened. Heck, she didn’t know what she should say or think when grief was jabbing her with pointy spears, bringing back the nightmare in glorious color. Blood. Pain. Concerned faces. Doctors. Pure, blinding white agony and dark days filled with nothingness.

“Right,” Ryan said in a hard voice. “I’ll meet you for breakfast in the morning. We have decisions to make.” His body tense, he hesitated a fraction longer, but when she remained silent, he stalked from the office, closing the door quietly behind him.

The tiny snick sounded like gunfire, felt as if he were closing the door on their marriage.

Julia stumbled to the closest chair, turmoil crashing her senses, nausea still heavy in her belly as she squeezed her eyes shut. She pressed a hand to her chest and concentrated on small, even breaths when what she really wanted to do was crawl under the desk and hide.

A tap sounded on the door seconds later. It opened and Maggie popped her head through the gap. “Connor and I are—what’s wrong?” She hurried to Julia. Connor followed, pausing to close the door behind him.

Julia blinked and, after groping for words to explain, started talking, sparing a thought for the irony. She managed to talk to her friends—the Tight Five—but not to her husband. “I told Ryan about the baby I lost. Blurted it out when he started talking about his son. I couldn’t…I couldn’t… The mother doesn’t want her child.”

“He’s keeping the kid?” Maggie sounded surprised.

“I don’t know. I think so.” She threw up her hands in disgust at herself. “All the pain of losing our baby sort of exploded inside me. I froze, and I…he left.”

“Why didn’t you tell him about the baby earlier? I presume he was the father?” Connor asked.

Julia gave an irritable shrug, angry at herself as well as Connor for stating the obvious. “I know. I know. I should’ve told him, but I thought the divorce would go through. And the longer I left it, well, the harder it seemed to introduce the topic. He told me how much he wanted kids. What was I meant to say to him? You have no idea how guilty I feel for losing our baby. I keep thinking I could’ve done something differently. Maybe if I’d realized I was pregnant straightaway and stopped drinking.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Connor said. “I was there when the doctor told you it wasn’t your fault and sometimes there’s no medical reason for a woman to suffer a miscarriage.”

“Just because the doctor said it doesn’t mean my mind accepts his word.”

“What are you going to do? Where’s Ryan now?” Maggie asked.

“He’s gone back to his old apartment. We’re meeting for breakfast.”

Connor crouched in front of Julia. “What do you want to do? You know—there is another angle to this. You don’t need to be a biological parent to make a good mother or father. You’ve met my stepfather. He loves me, and he has been a damn sight better parent than my real father. Talk to Ryan. Tell him what you’re feeling. Maybe this is a chance to start afresh.”

“But he’s away on tour all the time, and I have the club to run. Neither of us knows anything about children. Our work schedules don’t fit with children.”

“Julia, you’re just making excuses,” Connor informed her bluntly. “Talk to him, tell him everything you’re feeling. Lots of parents work at demanding jobs and still have great kids.”

Maggie sent him a silencing look and grasped one of Julia’s hands. She squeezed it tightly. “No one ever said it would be easy, but you can make it work—if you want. Do you love Ryan?”

Julia gave a jerky nod, not having to think about her answer.

“Then it’s simple. Don’t wait until the morning,” Maggie said. “Go and talk to him now. Listen to what he says and ask questions. We’ll drop you off at his apartment if you want, but don’t leave this until the morning. It will be that much harder if you stew all night.”

The stupid lump in her throat kept growing and wouldn’t disperse, no matter how many times she swallowed. She croaked, “Okay.”

“Promise?” Connor persisted.

Julia gave a tiny nod. “I’ll do it.”

“I’ll tell Susan you’re leaving. She’ll take care of the club.” Connor turned to his wife. “Meet you both out front.”

Half an hour later, Julia stood at the door of Ryan’s inner city apartment.

“Don’t make me come and buzz the apartment for you, Julia,” Maggie said, her tone faintly threatening.

Julia flipped her friend off and squared her shoulders. She pressed firmly on the buzzer. Only then did she hear Connor drive off. They’d been right to wait. Her friends knew she was behaving like an idiot, and the temptation to run might prove appealing. She’d promised Connor she’d tell Ryan everything, even her fears that he’d no longer want her now that he’d learned the truth.

“Yeah.”

She identified the tinny voice as Caleb’s. “It’s Julia.”

When she reached their apartment and tapped on the door, it flew open. Caleb glowered at her.

“About time,” he snapped.

“Can I come inside?”

In one of the rooms to their right, she heard a child crying. “Is Ryan in there?”

Caleb’s mouth was tight with anger. “Kid’s crying for his mother. Heartless bitch.”

Julia followed the heart-wrenching sobs and found herself in a small bedroom, only big enough for a single bed. Her gaze went straight to the child who sat in the middle of the narrow bed. His inky black hair was tousled, curls sticking out on one side of his head while the rest of his hair plastered to his scalp. Tears rolled down his red cheeks, his cries tearing at her. He was little and obviously confused.

Ryan stood by the bed and glanced up when she entered. Frustration and fatigue lined his face.

“Ryan,” she said quietly.

“Julia.” His tone was cool, his expression cautious.

“How long has he been crying?”

“Ever since we arrived home from the club,” Caleb said from the doorway.

“Why don’t you go and get us a drink of some description?” she said to Ryan. “I’ll see if I can settle him.”

Ryan hesitated.

“Go,” she said, turning her attention to the boy. He stared at her with big, blue eyes. Ryan’s eyes. Her mouth rounded in surprise. The boy was a miniature of Ryan, and so obviously his son. The hair. The pale blue eyes fringed by dark lashes. The same shaped face. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

He took a noisy breath and stared at her. Finally he gnawed on his bottom lip. Julia could see he was trying to work out who she was.

“I’m married to your daddy,” she said, her heart twisting at the tears swimming in those blue eyes. “What is your name?”