Fighting for Love (Second Chances #4)(68)

Releasing my arms, he hastily let me go and picked up the bag before taking off down the stairs. “Did you not listen to me?” I shouted after him, tears burning my eyes. He ignored me, continuing down the stairs and out the front door as if I hadn’t spoken.

By the time I got outside, he was halfway to the garage. He acted as if it was easy for me to leave, like I didn’t suffer at all. What was it going to take to get him to understand?

“Her name was Madelyn,” I cried from the doorway. “Madelyn Avery Reynolds.”

Immediately, he froze where he stood and slowly turned around to face me, wide-eyed. “I don’t understand,” he said, “I was under the impression you had an abortion.”

“What? No!” I wailed, bursting into hysterics. “I would never have done that, Matt. She was our baby and I loved her. She was all I had left of you.”

I approached him warily, taking one small step after the other. “The moment I found out I was pregnant, I got scared. There was never a doubt in my mind that I wanted to keep it, but I didn’t want to be selfish. I wanted it all, Matt, you and the baby … except, it wasn’t going to be that easy. You spent your whole life working to make ends meet. The only thing I wanted was for you to have a chance at a better life, and whether or not you achieved your success now because of it we’ll never know.”

He was so close I could touch him, but I kept my hands held by my sides. “I wanted to tell you so many times I lost count. I called your phone just to hear your voice; I went to every fight so I could see you up close. There were even times when I was only a footstep behind you and all you needed to do was look back and I’d be there. I needed you, Matt, and not a day went by where I didn’t regret my decision to leave.”

His chin trembled, and once his eyes closed that was when the tears began to fall. “Where’s our daughter, Shelby?” he asked reluctantly, even though he already knew the answer by the anguish in my gaze.

Swallowing hard, I released a shaky breath and closed the gap between us, circling my arms around his waist and putting my head against his chest. I needed to be close to him. “She didn’t make it, Matt,” I sobbed, my whole body shaking as the events played over again in my mind. “I was twenty weeks when the bleeding and cramps started. It wasn’t bad at first, but with bed rest everything started getting better. I thought I was okay until a couple of weeks after that I went into premature labor. I couldn’t understand why it was happening. I was young and healthy so nothing should’ve gone wrong.”

Matt folded his arms around me and his chest started to shake in silent sobs. “I did everything I was supposed to do. I felt her, Matt, inside my belly. She had life and spunk, and I knew she was going to grow up to be just like you. I wanted her to be just like you. The worst part was when I had to give birth to her. Oh my God, that was the hardest thing I ever had to do. She was so tiny that she fit in my hands, and for the few brief moments she was alive I told her how much we loved her. I even sang her the song she liked to hear when she was inside of me. Every time I would sing it I could feel her bouncing around in my belly.”

For the first time since it happened I was finally able to talk about her freely and feel a slight sense of closure. Being able to tell Matt and share the story of our daughter with him lifted the burden I had kept on my shoulders for the past few years. It didn’t take the pain away, but it helped to know that I no longer had to keep it inside.

Matt and I cried in each other’s arms until my eyes were so sore I could barely open them. He hadn’t said a word since I poured my heart out and that started to frighten me. Silence with him was never a good thing.

“Matt,” I murmured softly. “Please, say something. I need to know where we stand in all of this, and if you can find it within yourself to forgive me.”

Pulling away from me, he held my face in his hands and kissed me softly on the lips, our tears mingling with each other. The kiss, however, wasn’t a kiss of reconciliation; it felt more like a good-bye. I kissed him the same way ten years ago, and his kiss felt exactly like that.

“No,” I whispered, shaking my head and clutching onto his arms. “Please, don’t leave me, Matt. I can’t lose you. I’m so sorry for not telling you.”

Gazing down at me, he wiped away his tears and blew out a shaky sigh, his sadness reverting back into anger. “I’m sorry too, angel, but you can’t expect me to take all of this in and everything go back to normal. You just …” Eyes wild, he turned away from me and ran his hands furiously through his hair, gripping it tight when he shouted, “Dammit, Shelby, you just told me I had a daughter and that she’s f*cking dead! How am I supposed to handle that? You lied to me!”

Breathing hard, he groaned and rubbed his hands across his face, angrily wiping the tears away. “I’m going to need some time and space for a while. Maybe a very long while, I don’t know, but I can’t be around you right now.”

He started to walk away, but I stopped him by grabbing a hold of his arm. “How long, Matt?” I choked, feeling the panic begin to rise.

Glaring down at my hand on his arm, his jaw clenched and that was my cue that he didn’t want me to touch him. Slowly, I moved away and clasped my hands together, hoping he’d give me an answer to my question. How much time was he talking? Did he need a few days, years, or even the rest of his life? I needed to know there was still hope.