Lucky Stars (Ghosts and Reincarnation #5)(109)

Jack slid his hand along her waist, pulling her to his side and interrupted her, “If you need to go anywhere, love, I’ll take you.”

She looked up at him, her face wan, the bandage still at her temple, dark circles under her eyes even though she’d slept a good deal the past few days and she mumbled, “But –”

His fingers gave her a squeeze at her waist and he promised softly, “Whatever you need, poppet, I’ll get it for you.”

He saw tears fill her eyes, she swallowed, looked to his shoulder, his ear and then away.

Then she said, “Okay,” but she didn’t mean it.

They spent a quiet night in front of the television until she fell asleep, her head against his bicep which she was using for a pillow.

He took her to bed and woke with her already awake in front of him.

His arm got tight and her body grew solid.

“Belle,” he whispered into her bent neck.

“You should go,” she said back.

It was then his body grew solid.

“Why?” he asked.

“I don’t want you here,” she told him, her voice quiet and remote, her words felt like acid injected straight into a vein.

He ignored the pain and replied, “Sorry, my love, I’m willing to give you just about anything you want but I’m afraid that’s something I can’t give you.”

“There’s no reason anymore for you to be here,” she went on to explain, her voice still quiet, her head tipped down, her body remained tight.

Her words slashed through his gut and he pulled her vaguely resisting body closer before he asked, “Why would you say that?”

“Because you were with me for the baby and now there’s no baby, so –”

She stopped speaking when his arm clenched even tighter.

“I wasn’t with you for the baby,” he told her, his voice as tight as his arm, his temper rising but he controlled it, barely.

“It’s okay, Jack. I’ll be okay eventually. You can just –”

“Belle –” His voice was a warning.

“Seriously,” she said firmly.

“Seriously,” his reply was even more firm, “I wasn’t with you for the baby. I was with you for you.”

“I can’t believe –”

He cut her off even more firmly, demanding, “Believe.”

“Jack –”

He interrupted her again, “This is the first and last time we’re having this ludicrous discussion.”

“Jack –”

“Belle, don’t say another word.”

“But Jack –”

His arm shook her body gently. “Belle, not another f**king word.”

She grew silent, her body stayed taut.

For his part, Jack used those moments to control his anger and seek patience which he had the feeling (and he was right) he would need a lot of in the coming weeks.

Finally, she said quietly, “The dogs need to be walked.”

Thinking that walking the dogs would be a good opportunity to control his temper and find his patience, he agreed, “I’ll see to it.”

Then he kissed her shoulder and left her in bed.

They spent a tense Sunday together.

Then they spent a tense Monday together, Jack waking after Belle, holding her tight body close for long moments before she told him the dogs needed to be walked. He kissed her shoulder, left her in bed and walked the dogs. Then he worked in her living room while she puttered around her house.

This went on.

Eventually he had to go to London and she had to go back to the shop.

As the days slid by, she remained distant and on edge and Jack resolutely remained close, calling her during the day, the conversations short, one-sided (his side) and stilted and coming home to her cottage at night. She’d make him dinner then he’d work, she’d listen to music on her MP3 or they’d watch television. All of this done in silence.

They rarely talked but as he was allowing her emotional distance, he refused to allow her physical distance.

He nestled her close when they were both on her couch. He held her when they were in bed. He took her hand in his when he walked her to her store in the morning or when he was able to collect her in the evenings. And he took every opportunity he could to pull her into his arms and brush his lips against hers.

Often, when this happened, he’d see her wet her lips anxiously or tears would fill her eyes but she said nothing and didn’t avoid his touch nor did she respond to it.

Rachel, Lila, Joy and Yasmin were never far but they also gave Jack and Belle the space they needed to move forward and heal.

Unfortunately, neither of those things was happening.

Jack had decided early after the accident he would wait for his chance to break through.

She’d lost a child and he had no idea, not carrying it, how that felt.

Jack, too, lamented the loss of their child. He was looking forward to sharing that with Belle, looking forward to every aspect of it with great anticipation. Anytime he thought of their loss, remembered his mother’s voice on the phone when she called to tell him what happened, Lila greeting him at the entrance to the hospital, whispering to him that Nathan was gone, seeing Belle lying bandaged and asleep in her hospital bed, his chest would get tight.

But whatever he felt was simply emotional. It had not been tied to the physical. He’d not had a child in distress die inside him.