Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100332 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100332 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
“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.
In the week since our wedding, I’d made sure I worked the day shift so I was there at night when Sara was home. I barely slept at night, so I heard Sara right away when she called my name. I was so stunned to hear my name that I rushed over into her bedroom in only boxers. Usually, I made sure to wear at least a shirt and sweatpants in the apartment when she was around.
Sara perched on the edge of her bed, trembling. A small bloodstain was visible on the linen behind her, and blood also dampened her white silk pajama pants. She stared at me with wide, shaken eyes. “I need my mom. Can you call her?” Her phone was on the floor beside her feet. Judging by the trembling of her hands, she’d probably dropped it.
“Sure,” I said as I crossed the room in two long strides and picked up the phone. I quickly called Liliana who would be over within five minutes.
“What can I do?” I asked the moment I hung up.
Sara stared up at me. Tears brimmed in her eyes. “I don’t want to flush it down the toilet. I can’t.”
The tears began flowing down her pale cheeks. I had trouble understanding what she meant until it finally dawned on me.
“Don’t. We can bury it.”