Pieces of Us (Confessions of the Heart, #3)(46)

Silence bounded around the room. The pain radiating from her flesh vivid. Like fresh blood gushing from a cut to her soul that had never stopped bleeding.

“I . . . I needed you that day.” Her face pinched in agony. “He almost died. His umbilical cord had been wrapped around his neck. I waited too long because I was scared to be alone and wanted to pretend I wasn’t in the position that I was. I hadn’t told my mama or my daddy . . . I’d just . . . left. Told them I needed a fresh start. That I couldn’t stay in Broadshire Rim after what you’d done to me.”

Those lips trembled in agony. “I didn’t go stumbling into the ER until I was holding my belly, screaming because he was almost there.”

Torment spun around us. Drawing us together. Pushing us apart. “All I remember was them getting me into a room and shouting at me to push, then the doctor shouting at me not to, but I couldn’t stop. He wasn’t breathing when he was born. He was . . . blue.”

Her face twisted in horror, like she was right back there, reliving the moment, the words vibrating with emotion. “Completely blue. Not moving. Not crying. They finally got him breathing and rushed him to the newborn ICU. It was the middle of the night . . . I was . . . terrified. Absolutely terrified. And the only thing I wanted was to hear your voice. For you to tell me you’d save me. Save us. The way you’d always done.”

“Izzy.” It was a sob. A shout. I didn’t fucking know. Only thing I knew was I wanted to bang my head against a wall. Make it go away. Stop it. Turn back time.

Sadness took to her features, and she was chewing at her quivering bottom lip, trying to keep herself from crying. “My mama and daddy came as soon as I called them. I wasn’t alone for long.”

“Don’t make excuses for me.”

Her shoulder lifted at one side, that tenderness that was this girl right there. “Oh, I’m not, Maxon. There’s a very big part of myself that has hated you all this time. Hated what you did to me.”

“If I could—”

She gave a harsh shake of her head. “I’m not here for you to make apologies or excuses, Maxon. I came back to Broadshire Rim because Benjamin was accepted into a study here in Charleston. A study that might be able to help him fully walk again. Have his independence. I came back for him. Not for us.”

I gave a tight nod, my fingers clutched together, squeezing to keep myself from flying to my feet and putting a fist through the wall. “What’s wrong with him?”

A lumbering sigh parted her lips. “He has cerebral palsy. No one knew until about nine months after he was born that he’d suffered a brain injury from the oxygen deficit at birth. He just . . . wasn’t progressing normally. Wasn’t crawling or playing with his toys the way an infant would at his age.”

Indecision had her shifting, glancing at the floor before she finally looked back at me. “He’s an amazing child, Maxon. Amazing and smart and he works so hard that just watchin’ him breaks my heart. Makes it bust up with pride. I was warned he might not ever walk, might not ever talk, but after seven surgeries, he took his first step.”

That was it.

All I could take.

I sprang to my feet, welcoming the searing pain that sheered through my body.

A thousand knives slicing me into pieces.

Aggression curling through me, I pressed both my fists to the wall, like it could absorb the brunt force of the hatred I felt right then.

Arms shaking with restrained exertion.

Teeth gritting.

I flew back around, jagged breaths surging out before I was dropping to my knees at her feet.

Shock rocked her back, and I grabbed her by the face. “I’m so sorry. I’m so fuckin’ sorry. And those words don’t mean a goddamn thing, but I am.”

I knew I’d spewed a bunch of shit at her last night. That she didn’t believe a fucking word I said. But I was going to prove to her that she could.

Tears blurred her eyes, that mesmerizing dance of browns and greens. “I should have come back sooner. Told you. But it was easier for me to stay away than to have to face you. I’m sorry for that.”

“Don’t apologize to me, Izzy. I was mad . . . shocked yesterday . . . but you don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

It was on me.

All the blame.

All the fault.

Just like it’d always been.

“I want to know him.”

She blinked hard, and a slew of tears slipped down her gorgeous face. There was nothing I could do but gather them up, my thumb tracking up the path of the moisture.

“I’m not sure you’re ready for that, Maxon. I . . . I can’t have you comin’ into his life and then deciding it’s too hard. I should have given you time to figure it out before. I realize that now. I just . . . got back here and saw you and got carried away.”

I tightened my hold on her face. “I want to get carried away.”

Fuck. I wanted to get carried away.

Run ahead and behind and in between. Be there for them, every step of the way, racing a few extra million laps to make up for what I’d lacked.

A bluster of dread and worry flickered at the back of my brain.

Had anything really changed?

But there was no chance in hell I was gonna turn my back on my kid.

“He’s my priority. Not you. Not me. It’s my job to protect him.”