Raging Heart On (Lucas Brothers #2)(57)

“Buttercup? I saw your car in the parking lot when I came back from the doctor’s office. Didn’t you have a meeting today?” White calls out.

Hearing his voice, hearing the worry in it, just makes me feel more miserable and I cry harder. I’m actually crying so hard, I can’t even tell when White comes into the room. I just feel the bed depress when he sits on it and a minute later, I’m hauled up into his lap and in his arms.

“Kayla? Honey talk to me. What’s wrong?”

“I’m in pain,” I tell him, which isn’t a lie. I am in pain. I don’t want to keep this from him anymore. I want to be able to talk to him about the fears that I have. How I’m afraid he will regret giving me a child. Or the fear that when he finds someone he could truly love, how it will feel to be tied to him by a child that he didn’t want while watching him have a family with the woman he chose freely. I can’t tell him all of that, however, and that just makes the tears fall faster.

White rocks me back and forth, his fingers crushing through my hair and pulling it from my face.

“Shhh… I’ve got you, Kayla. I’m right here. Whatever is going on, I’ll take care of it, honey. Just talk to me.” He repeats that a couple of times before I finally force myself to take a shuddering breath.

“I started my period.” I cry like a baby, letting White comfort me, when I should tell him the truth.

“Oh, honey. I’m sorry. This is all my fault for getting your hopes up that day by the tree. I know this is a setback for you, but it will happen, honey. We just have to try harder,” he says, and even through my tears, I hear disappointment in his voice. That doesn’t make sense, though. I have to have imagined it. I take another breath and try to get my tears under control.

“This isn’t your fault, White. None of this is. This is all on me,” I tell him, crying to dry up my tears. White reaches over and finds the tissues on my nightstand and offers them to me. I grab a couple and dab at my eyes, trying to get my emotions under control.

“It is my fault. I had to be all ego and tell you I was sure you would be pregnant. I’m an idiot. I don’t want you to get discouraged, though. You want a baby and I’m going to make sure you get it.”

You want a baby. I’m going to make sure you get it. The words replay. The way he said them, the choices he made. It’s all so clear. It hurts like hell.

“White. I think we should talk,” I start, because I can’t do this anymore. The more I’m with him, the longer we’re together, I know it will destroy me when he leaves. I can’t keep going on like this.

“I do too,” he says and that weight in my stomach feels like it weighs a million pounds.

“You do?” I ask, shocked but resigned. It’s best to get it all out now. We can still be friends. I just need to adapt to being on the sidelines of his life.

“I know we discussed it before and decided against it, but I really think it’s time we see a specialist.”

“A specialist?” I ask, confused.

“Yeah. I mean, you were tested once before, you said, when you were thinking of marrying that loser.”

“Tommy—”

“Never say his name. Anyway, I haven’t been tested and I really think I should.”

“White, that’s not necessary. In fact, I have something I need to talk with you about.”

“It is necessary. I need to know.”

“But…”

“I’m doing this, Kayla. In fact, I already have.”

“You… what?”

“I made an appointment with one of the leading fertility doctors in the state. If there’s something wrong with my swimmers, we’ll know by this time next week.”

“White. You should have talked to me about this. I need to tell you—”

“You don’t need to do anything other than go to the doctor with me and be there for moral support.”

I really should argue further. The words don’t seem to want to come though.

“It could be me, you know,” I tell him, the guilt filling my voice. “It may be nothing you’re doing that’s causing me not to be pregnant. It could all be me.”

I’m lame. The words I’m giving him are lame.

“Well, you have at least been tested before. I haven’t. So let’s start with me and we can face whatever needs to be done next together.”

“White, I really don’t think—”

“We’re doing this, Kayla, end of discussion.”

That’s when I know I truly am weak, because I don’t argue further. I let White settle us on the bed. I let him rub on my stomach and feed me chocolate and tell me outrageous stories about his brother Cyan. I soak it all up even as the guilt is eating me alive. What I don’t do is tell White the truth.

I’m a horrible person. I agree to let my best friend-turned-lover get his sperm tested, knowing there’s no reason to. Worse. I let my best friend-turned-lover think he might be impotent rather than tell him I’m on the pill.

I’m weak.





CHAPTER 43


WHITE




“Right this way, Mr. Lucas,” the nurse calls as she leads me down a small hallway off of the doctor’s office. I look over to make sure Kayla is beside me, then reach out and grab her hand. She doesn’t look at me. She’s looking at the small plastic cup I’m holding that the doctor referred to as a specimen container—if that isn’t a mood killer in and of itself. I squeeze her hand reassuringly, more for my benefit than hers. I wanted to give Kayla a baby. She wants that more than anything and I find I want to be the man who makes all her dreams come true. So I’m doing this shit, but it doesn’t mean I have to be happy about it.