Starting Now (Blossom Street #9)(103)

Unlocking the deadbolt, she tossed open the door and with her heart in her throat asked, “Phillip, what’s happened? Are you okay?”

He looked at her and blinked as if he didn’t know where he was or how he’d gotten to her condo. Running his fingers through his hair, he didn’t seem to know what to say.

Taking him by the hand, she led him into her living room and helped him out of his raincoat.

“What time is it?” he asked before he flopped onto her sofa. He leaned forward and stared down at the carpet, his arms dangling between his knees.

“Almost one.”

She sat next to him and took his hands in hers. They were shockingly cold. She rubbed them to start the circulation flowing back into his fingers. “What happened?” she whispered.

“Just let me hold you for a moment.”

Libby had never seen him like this. She climbed onto the sofa on her knees and wrapped her arms as far around him as they would go. Resting her cheek against the top of his wet head, she gently brushed the thick strands of hair from his forehead while softly singing the way she had with the babies in the nursery.

It must have been ten minutes before he spoke. “I lost a baby this afternoon.”

Libby had guessed it was something like that. Phillip took death personally, as if he were responsible, as if life or death was a decision he made instead of God. She yearned to remind him that he was only an instrument, but knew that he didn’t want to hear it. At this point she doubted he’d believe her.

“This was a special child … long anticipated.”

He paused as if every word caused him pain.

“The mother underwent five IVF attempts and the baby came early and with a heart defect. This child was their only chance for a family and she begged me to take every measure necessary to save her son.” Phillip paused and didn’t seem able to continue. Several moments passed before he spoke again. “He died on the operating table. We weren’t able to resuscitate him. He lived less than five hours and … and I had to tell the parents.” He rubbed his hands across his face.

By now Libby was so affected by his grief that her throat was clogged and she couldn’t speak. She could only imagine how the parents had reacted to the news. All Libby could do was hold him the same way he had held and comforted her when the adoption had fallen through. She would have given anything to lessen his pain, to ease this horrific ache from his heart.

After several minutes, he broke out of her embrace and stood. His eyes were more intense than she could remember.

“I can’t do this anymore.”

“Phillip, my love,” she whispered, aching with the desire to comfort him. “The hospital needs you; these babies need you. The worst thing you could do now is to walk away. I agree that what happened would tear at anyone’s heart, but you can’t allow it to destroy you.”

He stood and stared at her for several seconds. “I wasn’t talking about the hospital, Libby, I was referring to us. It’s over.”

A cold chill whipped through her. “You don’t mean that.” He was in pain and he didn’t know what he was saying.

“This isn’t a spur-of-the-moment decision,” he said, sounding calm now and completely reasonable. “Our relationship has been weighing on me for weeks. I thought I could do it, give you the time you needed to get your work schedule settled. If I could hold out, if I could be patient, then eventually everything would even itself out. I’ve waited and I can see now that nothing is going to change. If anything, it’s gotten worse.”

“It will change, Phillip. I promise it will.”

Slowly he shook his head. “You’re a fool if you believe that, Libby. A fool.”

Her nails bit into her palms; she didn’t take kindly to being called a fool. “You need to sleep on this. We belong together. You know it and I know it. Don’t be so willing to give up on us. Not yet.” Although it was difficult she did her best to remain outwardly calm. On the inside her heart was in a panic. She couldn’t lose Phillip.

“I’ve watched what’s happened, Libby. I’ve tried to be patient, but it’s time to face facts here. This relationship isn’t working for either of us.”

She denied it with a sharp shake of her head. “That’s not true. It’s working for me. I need you. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Are you telling me you haven’t figured out why you’ve had such little contact with Ava?”

“In case you haven’t noticed I’ve been busy,” she snapped, surprised by the vehemence of her response.

“Ava reminds you of Amy Jo. You couldn’t deal with what happened when the Armstrongs decided to adopt her. As a result you’re avoiding Ava. She needed your encouragement and support when she was pregnant but she needs it even more now and where are you? At the office. You’re always at the office because your work there gives you an escape. You don’t need to think about what you lost. The same thing happened when your mother died and after Joe left you. You buried yourself in your work.”

Every word was an accusation, each one flung at her as she stood defenseless and exposed. Stinging tears filled her eyes and she quickly blinked them away.

“You aren’t the man I thought you were, either,” she cried. “The man I love would never say such ugly, mean things, whether they were true or not.”