“You know that whole story about me leaving college because I had ‘issues’?” She uses air quotes for the last word. “And everyone assumed I had a coke addiction?”
“Yeah.”
“Not true. I got pregnant by my biology professor. My family couldn’t bear the shame of it, so they allowed everyone to think that I went off to rehab rather than have anyone find out I was grieving for the two babies I lost.”
“He got you pregnant twice?”
She nods. “The first miscarriage was early. Like six weeks, so they brushed it off as one of those things that just happen. But the second was at sixteen weeks and …” She takes a breath before she continues. “Well, that’s a whole lot different. And that’s why they want me to have regular scans with this one.” Her lip trembles, and I hate that she’s having to relive those painful memories. I don’t want to force her to talk about the pregnancies, so I focus on her college professor, who was a dick for knocking up his nineteen-year-old student.
“Did you love him? The father?”
“Yeah,” she says softly, and I’m filled with burning hatred for the guy, and not because he probably took advantage of her, but because she loved him.
“What happened with him?”
“After the first time, we agreed to try again—”
“Even though you were still in college?” I frown.
She shakes her head. “I know it sounds crazy now, but after my dad died, I felt like I had nobody. I was mixed up. I was just looking for …” She brushes a tear from her cheek.
She was just looking for someone to fucking love her.
“He was so sweet. So cool and mature, you know? I thought he was the most incredible person I’d ever met.”
Of course he seemed fucking mature when you were nineteen. I fucking hate him.
“He sold me a future that seemed so much better than the one my mom and brother had mapped out for me. So, when he suggested we try again, it made perfect sense to me. We agreed I’d stay in college to keep up appearances and then drop out as soon as the pregnancy became impossible to hide.”
“He sounds like a fucking asshole,” I spit, unable to hold back and half expecting her to defend him.
Instead, she lets out a harsh laugh. “Yeah, he sure was.”
“What happened between the two of you?”
Her beautiful face pinches in a frown as she stares over my shoulder. “After I lost the second baby, he blamed me. He said I partied too hard and hadn’t taken good enough care of myself. I went to one party and had a single sip of wine.” Another tear rolls down her cheek, and I go to wipe it away, but she roughly swats it away before I can. “We stayed together for a few weeks after that, but he kept getting worse with his bullshit about how it was all my fault. I couldn’t deal with the grief, so I left and …” She blows out a breath. “I went home and told my mom and Bryce, and they stirred up that stupid rumor about why I dropped out.”
“And the professor? He just got away with what he did to you?”
“It’s not like he broke the law or anything. Bryce and my mom wanted it all swept under the rug. I believe he was questioned by the dean about our alleged relationship, but he denied it all. He went on living his life like nothing had ever happened, and I was …” She wipes her hands on her jeans. “No point reliving the past right now, huh?”
“Where is he now?”
“According to Tyler, who stalks him on Facebook, he’s living in Ohio with his wife and two kids.”
“You want me to take care of him for you?” I ask, only half joking. All she has to do is say the word. “Because I know people.”
That gets me a soft laugh, and fuck me, but I love to see her smile. “I’m sorry I never told you, Nathan.” I fucking hate that she calls me Nathan, but I bite back that particular retort. “It’s just … It hurts to talk about that with anyone, but I should have told you. I guess my mom and Bryce thought it was easier to marry me off if I was a reformed coke addict than someone who couldn’t have kids.”
I reach for her hand, and she doesn’t pull away this time, so I thread my fingers through hers and kiss her knuckles. Making a mental note to have Helen find the best obstetrician in the country, I silently promise to get her and our baby the best medical care money can buy. But I don’t tell her that right now because I’m not sure if she’ll view it as me overstepping, and I’m still on thin ice here. “You might have owed me a lot of things, Mel, but not that. And you can have kids, corazón. We’re having one,” I say instead.
She gives me a faint smile. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Chapter
Fifty-Five
NATHAN
Istep into the reception area of the veterinary office, and I’m immediately hit by the smell of wet dog. The receptionist eyes me suspiciously as I approach with a pink bakery box clutched in one hand and a takeout bag in the other. When I reach the desk, it becomes clear that she’s actually giving me the full-on stink eye. Her lip curls in a sneer. “Can I help you?”
I clear my throat. “I’m here to see Melanie.”
She rolls her eyes and calls over her shoulder, “Mel, honey, your douchebag husband is here to see you.”
Well, that explains the stink eye. A few moments later, Mel steps out of the doorway behind the receptionist, blowing her hair out of her eyes and wiping fur from her uniform. Her eyes bug out when she sees me. “Nathan. It’s you … I wasn’t …” She gapes at me.
I arch an eyebrow. “How many douchebag husbands do you have, Spitfire?”
The receptionist puts a hand over her mouth and stifles a snicker.
But Mel’s face lights up, and her smile is worth being called a douchebag in front of a room full of strangers. She sidles up to her colleague and whispers, “You can’t call him a douchebag, Cass. It’s unprofessional.”
Cass gives me once-over. “But he is though, right?”
Mel giggles, her bright green eyes fixed on mine. “Only very occasionally.”
