: Chapter 10

Our ride home from the appointment happened in utter silence. I wasn’t sure what I felt. I had killed so many and witnessed even more deaths. It never bothered me, but somehow, finding out the heart of our unborn child had stopped beating made me feel… off. I’d thought I’d become part of Sara’s pregnancy today, and instead, I’d witnessed the end of it.

Sara’s expression was frozen, her gaze empty as she stared ahead at the road.

I had never been good at consoling others, and I knew Sara wouldn’t appreciate it if I tried. She didn’t want my touch or my words. Her body language made that clear.

When we arrived in my—our apartment, Sara headed for the couch and plopped down, still with a look of numbness.

I stood in the living area, unsure what to do. When the doorbell rang, I quickly opened it, and my relief upon seeing Liliana was unmeasurable.

She barely glanced my way as she rushed toward Sara. The moment Sara saw her mother, her face crumpled, and she let out a sob that seemed to be torn from the depths of her soul.

Goose bumps raised the hairs on my arms, and I clutched the door handle even tighter, glad for its solid nature.

Liliana sat beside Sara, who fell into her arms and hugged her tightly. The sobs and cries leaving Sara’s body stirred up emotions in me that I was unequipped to handle. Seeing Sara’s anguish, I realized how much I, too, had been looking forward to becoming a father.

Liliana began crying too.

I backed away without a word and closed the door, leaving the women alone. There was nothing I could do. Liliana’s bodyguards were outside in the corridor, so I knew both women were safe. With a nod at them, I left.

I picked up my phone and called Amo. “Can we do some sparring?”

“Now?” he asked confused.

“Yes.”

“Okay. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

Amo’s brows snapped together when he saw me in the changing room. “What happened?” Was it that obvious? I stared up at my best friend from my position on the bench. “Sara lost the baby.”

Amo sat beside me, concern in his eyes as he patted my shoulder. Neither of us was big on gestures or emotional chitchat. “Fuck. I’m sorry, Maximus.”

I nodded because I was too. “I thought—” I shook my head before I could voice my thoughts. I thought having a child would help Sara and me build a working marriage. But now?

What bound us? Only a vow built on feelings of duty.

“Where’s Sara now?”

“Her mother is with her. Sara doesn’t need me there,” I said without a hint of emotion.

Amo tilted his head, his eyes narrowed in thought. Sara was his cousin. Of course, he was worried about her well-being too. “She’s been through a lot. So have you.”

I shook my head and rose to my feet. “I’m fine. Let’s do some sparring. I need to move my body.”

Amo and I sparred for close to two hours. “I can cancel the meeting with Maddox. He can update me tonight at dinner.”

I shook my head. “No. I promised to help my parents with the shelter this afternoon. Go.”

Amo nodded, then grabbed his gym bag and left. In the past year, we’d done more emotional chitchat than in our entire lives before then. Fuck. I missed the easier days.

I picked up the phone and messaged Liliana. I wasn’t sure why I didn’t message Sara.

How’s Sara doing? Should I come home?

We’re on the way to our place. Sara wants to spend a few days with her family until she’s come to terms with the situation.

I wasn’t even surprised. Hell, I was almost relieved. I definitely wasn’t the person who could take care of Sara in a situation like this. We didn’t know each other well, and the baggage from the past still weighed too heavily on our shoulders. And how the fuck could I possibly console a woman who lost the baby inside her?

She loved her family. They were what she needed—not a man she had no choice but to marry because of our world’s moral rules.

Okay. Let me know if Sara or you need anything.

You should go see your family too. It’s not a good idea to be alone right now.

I was surprised by Liliana’s concern for me. It was hard for me to grasp that she didn’t hate me for what had happened, but Liliana and Romero were good people, especially in our world.

I decided to head home right away instead of picking up my stuff in my apartment. Primo still lived with my parents when he wasn’t traveling for business, so I could borrow some of his clothes.

The moment I parked in the driveway on my parents’ property, the door swung open, and Mom came rushing out. I’d thought she’d still be at work in Gianna’s gym. To be honest, I’d hoped she was. Her emotionality might trigger emotions in me I had no intention of experiencing.

She hugged me tightly. Excited barks and yowls sounded from the dogs in their cages. Mom had closed the screen door so Bacon and the other house dogs were stuck inside and couldn’t greet me.

“Who told you?” I asked quietly. “Liliana?”

“She called me to make sure I was there for you when you arrived. I raced here.” She pulled back and cupped my cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Max. I can’t believe how much you and Sara have to go through. It’s not fair. Not fair at all. Yesterday was a day of joy and then this.”

“Yesterday was many things but not a day of joy, and today only confirmed what I’d known from the very start: building something good on a rotten foundation will end in destruction.”

Mom lowered her hands as I straightened. “One horrible incident won’t determine Sara’s and your future. You two will have a beautiful family one day. I’m convinced of it.”

Mom’s convictions were based on wishful thinking. She thought because she wanted something for me out of motherly love, it would become true. Life didn’t work that way. Fate had a nasty temper and loved to kick me in the balls.

“We can’t have a family because there’s no way Sara will ever want to be with me.”

Mom let out a small sigh. “It’ll take time, but you two will find your way to each other.”

A day of hard manual work would keep the thoughts away and maybe make me exhausted enough that I’d have no trouble falling asleep tonight.

“I’m here to help with the new fencing,” I said firmly, turning my attention to the dog shelter on my right. After a flood of new arrivals from a secret dog fighting club, with several dogs that needed to be in solitary confinement because of their behavioral issues, the shelter was getting too small. Finding new homes for the dogs was often close to impossible. Today, we would build another open area where the more social dogs could live in a pack, plus create a few more solitary cages with enough space to allow the nervous and confused dogs space to run.

After a moment, Mom dragged her concerned eyes away from me and motioned to the fencing material on the bed of Dad’s gray truck. I knew he was still busy with a client and would be home later.

Mom shivered. She was only in gym clothes, and the temperatures were around the freezing point today. I ran hot, so the cold barely bothered me, but even I needed to put another layer over my T-shirt.

I headed into the house, and after greeting Bacon and the four other dogs, all of them pit bulls, I headed upstairs to Primo’s room and grabbed a sweatshirt and a jacket that looked as if a lumberjack owned it from his wardrobe. I set out to work right away. With a pickax, I pummeled holes into the half-frozen ground so we could set the fencing posts in concrete.

“We have soil drills,” Dad grumbled when he joined me in the late afternoon. Mom was inside. She quickly realized that her concern annoyed me and had gone in to cook a hearty comfort meal. She didn’t enjoy cooking but enjoyed feeding us, so she always put something somewhat delicious on the table.

I looked up from the five-inch-deep hole. It was the third hole I was working on. Progress was slow, but with every swing of the axe, I felt a little more like myself.

Dad met my gaze. His amber eyes searched my face, curious, but not filled with overwhelming concern or even pity. Dad wasn’t an emotional man, not even during torture. I was glad for his stoic calm now.

“Then we’ll use the pickax. Hand me one,” Dad said as he rolled up the sleeves of his thermal jacket, revealing his many tattoos. I too had more than a dozen tattoos, but Dad still beat me to it.

He got down on his knees a few feet beside me and started working on a new hole. Soil and small stones flew everywhere as he smashed the axe into the ground. I continued my own work, enjoying the feel of sweat and dirt on my skin.

“There was a point in my life when I thought nothing good would ever happen. Then I was given your mother. Fuck. I didn’t deserve her. I probably still don’t, but I knew she was my only shot at happiness. It wasn’t easy. The circumstances were shitty, and your mom probably shouldn’t have forgiven me, but she did, and I count my blessings every day.”

“Our situations are different.”

“Indeed. You had no choice in what happened. I chose to be a bad person.”

I rammed the axe with even more force into the ground. “Mom loves you. You love Mom. Sara and I don’t know each other enough for any real feelings. Unless you count contempt, which I’m sure she’s feeling for me.”

“Love didn’t just happen to your mom and me. It took time. Give it time, Maximus. Sara is now your wife. She’ll be a part of your life, and it’s your responsibility to make the best of it for her sake too.”

I shoved to my feet, annoyed that even Dad wanted to discuss my emotions. Fuck. I didn’t need to hear any of this. “The only connection Sara and I had died in her womb. So don’t tell me what I can or can’t do.”

Dad stayed on the ground. “You are a Trevisan, and I know you won’t give up, even if you can’t see it now.”

I gritted my teeth and got back down on my knees and picked up the axe again. We worked in silence after that, but Dad’s words of confidence kept replaying in my head. I wanted to fight for a happy life for Sara. It was the least I could do.

I stayed the night at my parents’ but really wanted to stay there even longer. I didn’t want to return to Maximus’s and my apartment. It didn’t feel like home, and now it probably would never feel that way. No tiny feet would fill the space with their sounds, no bubbly baby laughter. Nothing but oppressing silence.

But people would start talking if they found out I had moved out only one day after our wedding. I lay in bed and stared up at the ceiling. I’d been in bed since Mom had taken me home yesterday. I didn’t have the energy to get up.

A knock sounded.

“Sara?”

“Come in,” I said. My voice sounded whispy and raw. I wasn’t sure how long I’d cried. Eventually, I’d fallen asleep on Mom’s lap.

Mom came in, carrying a tray with food, her face full of concern. She put the tray down beside me on the bed. It was filled with my favorite buttermilk waffles, fresh berries, and maple mascarpone dip.

“Thanks, but I’m not hungry.”

Mom touched my hand, which lay motionless beside me. “You have to eat.”

“Why? I’m not eating for two anymore,” I pressed out. My throat clogged up, and my eyes burned with new tears. I wasn’t sure how my body could still produce a single tear. I’d already cried so much.

“Oh Sara, love. I wish I could take this pain from you. It’s one I’d hoped you’d never experience. I know how crushing it is.”

I searched Mom’s face. “Have you experienced it?”

Mom sighed, her eyes teary. “Twice, one at seven weeks, one at eight weeks.”

“You didn’t say anything yesterday.”

“I didn’t feel like it was the right time to share my own story with you.”

I took Mom’s hand in mine. “Did you blame yourself?”

Mom paused. “I think many women worry that they did something wrong, and that’s why it happened, but most of the time, it just happens because the pregnancy wasn’t viable. Do you blame yourself?”

I looked away. I’d never felt more guilty in my life. More tears filled my eyes as I considered all the times I’d wished I wasn’t pregnant from a horrible event and how often I’d worried that the baby would remind me of what happened. What if the baby had felt so unwanted it had simply perished? I closed my eyes and let out a deep sob, my heart aching so fiercely I wasn’t sure I could take another moment of it.

“Oh, Sara, please don’t think you are to blame. Our thoughts can’t end a viable pregnancy. Nothing you did led to this. Absolutely nothing.” She squeezed my hand tightly.

I couldn’t open my eyes because I knew Mom’s gaze would be full of love and understanding, and I simply didn’t feel worthy of it right now.

“Now that it’s over, I realize just how much I wanted this baby and already cared for it.” I shuddered, holding back another sob because I felt like it would wreck me.

Mom stretched out beside me and stroked my head. “Let it all out. It’s okay. I’m here for you.”

Mom held me for a while before I felt ready to shower and get dressed. Getting naked was the hardest because my slight bump was even more obvious that way. Mom gave me some of her clothes, a loose dress that hid the signs of a pregnancy that was no more.

“I’m sure Maximus won’t mind if you spend a few days here.”

“I should go back. We’re married after all.” The empty ring of my voice scared me.

Doubt reflected on Mom’s face. It was obvious she didn’t think it was a good idea. Neither did I. “If you need me, I’m there for you. You can call me any time, Sara. I don’t think you should be alone right now. You can sleep at the apartment and spend the days helping me clean out the attic.”

I nodded, glad to have something to keep me busy.

“Should I let Maximus know he can pick you up after work?”

“Yes, please do.” I should have done it myself, but I couldn’t talk to him now. I wasn’t even sure why I felt angry with him and his lack of reaction. He didn’t have any sort of connection to the baby. Yesterday should have been the first time he would have really been part of my pregnancy…

Mom and I spent all afternoon cleaning out the attic, where boxes filled with old clothes and toys were piled high. Many of them held childhood memories of my siblings and me. Maybe I would have chosen a few of our old toys for the baby one day.

“This was a bad idea,” Mom said when she saw me clutching an old stuffed bear that played a lullaby. I shook my head. “No. I want to feel this pain. It’ll be a part of me now. I better get used to it.”

Mom looked down at her dust-covered hand and swallowed hard.

Maximus picked me up at seven in the evening. I had ignored the message he’d sent me yesterday, but I knew Mom had kept him updated. When I got into his car, I expected him to be mad because I’d just ghosted him and slept at home without even telling him. He only regarded me with a blank face for a couple of heartbeats before he turned his attention back to the street and drove off.

“My mother packed us a container with her chicken soup. It’s delicious and satisfying due to the tagliatelle she always adds to it,” I said. The warmth of the soup seeped into my lap, and I clung to the container.

“That’s nice of her. I could have gotten takeout. If you don’t feel like cooking in the next few days, I have a few great places where I used to get food when I stayed in the city.”

“I’ll cook. It keeps me busy.”

I stared straight ahead even though Maximus tried to catch my gaze a few times. From the corner of my eye, I could see his grip on the steering wheel tightening.

“I’m sorry,” I said when we pulled into a parking spot in front of the townhouse after about a minute in the car. If Maximus hadn’t picked me up after work, I would have walked the short distance.

He turned off the engine, then turned to me with an aghast expression. “What are you apologizing for?”

I shrugged. I wasn’t even sure. I simply felt so guilty in so many regards that the words had slipped out. Maximus shook his head. “You have no reason to be sorry.”

Maybe he was relieved that I wasn’t pregnant anymore. I searched his amber eyes for a hint of his true feelings. “Are you happy?”

His mouth opened, but he didn’t say anything, utter shock on his face. “Fuck, happy the baby’s dead?” He closed his eyes and slammed his fists on the steering wheel, causing the vehicle to honk. I watched mutely as his rage slowly took form on his face and the tension in his body.

“Fuck no!” He shoved the door open, then slammed it shut so the truck rattled. Outside, he let out a roar, then punched the side of the truck with both fists. Passersby scuttled away, obviously scared by his rage. Maximus was an imposing sight at any time, but when he got mad, it was truly frightening. If our neighbors hadn’t been terrified yet, they would be now.

I swallowed. I shouldn’t have asked.

I allowed him his rage. I wondered if rage was something I should feel too. But rage at whom? Nature? Myself? Right now, I just felt empty.

Eventually, he approached my side and opened the door for me. I peered up at his reddened face, at the pulsing vein in his throat. He blew out a breath. “I shouldn’t have lost it like that,” he gritted out, not even looking at my face. “But your question…fuck, Sara.” He met my gaze. “Of course, I’m not happy.”

I nodded. “Okay.”

After seeing his angry outburst, I was relieved. Knowing that Maximus wasn’t left unaffected by our baby’s death made me feel better. He held out his hand and helped me climb out of his truck, then he took the Tupperware from me. Side by side, we walked up the stairs to the townhouse, then took the small elevator up. My gaze drifted to the bruises on Maximus’s knuckles from punching the vehicle. Right above them, on the back of his hand, the word nemesis was inked into his skin. The god of revenge. I wondered if that was how Maximus saw himself.

He followed my gaze to his damaged knuckles and shrugged. “It’s nothing.”

I wondered if physical pain would help with the emotional anguish I felt. “Does it help?”

Maximus stopped, his dark brows snatching together. “Does what help with what?”

“Does the pain make you feel better?”

He glanced down at his bruises. “I suppose it does for a short while.” He narrowed his eyes at me. “You are not like me, Sara. I don’t want you to cause yourself pain. If you need to unleash anger, unleash it on me.”

I shook my head. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to go to bed.”

“What about the soup?” Maximus held up the Tupperware container.

“I’m not hungry. It’s for you.”

When I finally lay in bed, I released a shaky breath. I lightly touched my belly despite the deep ache I felt, reminding myself that it wouldn’t grow. How long would it take until this pregnancy would end? I didn’t want a procedure, but the wait for the inevitable would be soul-crushing.