One Day Soon (One Day Soon, #1)(50)

Yoss didn’t say he was sorry and I was thankful for that. I didn’t want his sympathy any more than he ever wanted mine.

“But those twenty-eight weeks were amazing. The most perfect time of my life. I was a mother. And I knew the second I found out about her that that was the only thing I ever wanted to be.” Marie realized we were standing there and gave me a sour look. I knew it was only a matter of time before she came out and told us to leave.

I took Yoss by the arm and started to walk him back to the elevator. He had been on his feet too long. I could tell that he was exhausted; his eyes were drawn. He also looked incredibly sad and I knew that my story had done that.

“A happy story doesn’t always have a happy ending,” I said as we left Labor and Delivery, feeling the need to defend my feelings.

“You didn’t have any more children,” he stated. Not asked. I noted the difference.

“No. After losing Gabby I had two more miscarriages before I was told I would never be able to carry to term. I learned that some things weren’t meant to be.”

We waited in front of the elevator and I felt strangely relieved to share my loss with him. Losing Gabby and each subsequent miscarriage had chiseled away at the shaky foundation of my marriage. Chris hadn’t understood why I chose to lock myself away in order to cope. The horrible truth was that I hadn’t loved him enough to explain.

Yoss was right. I was different. Imogen Conner was a changed woman. I had felt it the day Yoss left me. I had felt it when I was told I would have to give birth to a dead child. I had felt it when my husband closed the door behind him as he walked away from me and our marriage.

And while each had hurt in different ways, I had accepted them. I lingered over some. I swept away the others.

I felt I was stronger for it.

I had given up on happy endings and one day soons.

I was okay.

But seeing Yoss again had made me question all of it.

“Did you think about adopting?” Yoss asked and I flinched. I couldn’t help it. It had been the source of a major disagreement. One of many but perhaps the worst. The one that ultimately ended us.

I had suggested adopting. Chris had been adamantly against it.

“I won’t raise another person’s child!” he screamed, slamming his fist down on the table. If we weren’t so emotionally disconnected I would have seen the despair in his eyes at the thought of never having a baby with me. I would have realized that his anger was not only about losing our dream of a family, but it was about losing me as well.

Because I had checked out of our relationship a long time ago. Maybe I had never really checked in.

“I’m not married anymore. I’m not sure I’m up to raising a baby on my own,” I admitted.

Yoss started to take my hand just as the elevator doors opened, but then promptly stopped himself. “If you want it, you can have it, Imogen. Don’t make excuses because you’re scared,” he remarked harshly, almost angrily.

“That’s not fair, Yoss, and you know it.” I was starting to get just as angry. Just as frustrated.

Yoss ran his hands over his face, letting out a beleaguered sigh. “I wanted so much more for you than this.”

“Than what? I’ve done all right for myself,” I argued half-heartedly.

“Your happy story shouldn’t be remembering dreams you gave up on. It’s not right. Not for you, Imi.”

Yoss dropped his hands and in a sudden movement he grabbed my upper arms and pulled me towards him. I barely had time to register what he was doing before his mouth crashed angrily against mine.

Teeth. Lips. Tears.

Heartbeat slamming in my ears. His fingers curled almost aggressively into my skin.

He kissed me, not like the boy he had been, with passion and longing. This was a desperate kiss. Full of pent up emotions that had been bottled up for entirely too long.

He moaned low and ragged in the back of his throat and my knees started to buckle. I was just bringing up my arms to put around him, to try to soften the attack, when he abruptly ended the kiss.

His eyes were bright. His cheeks were flushed. Our breathing was erratic, coming in short, angry bursts.

I hadn’t kissed him in so long. But I hadn’t forgotten how he could make me forget everything. I lost all sense and reason when Yoss put his lips on mine.

I wanted, more than anything, to do it again.

But then I realized where we were.

I cast a quick look around, hoping no one saw us. There were people about, but no one seemed to be paying us any mind.

I touched my tender mouth, still feeling him there. Harsh. Almost enraged. His hands were shaking and I reached out to touch him, but he tensed, backing up slightly. Increasing the distance between us.

“Why did you leave me underneath the bridge?” I asked. For the third time.

And again I didn’t get an answer.

We were engaged in a frustrating dance where I’d ask the important questions and he would ignore me completely.

Once on the elevator, I hit the button for the third floor, staring at the ceiling as we began to make our decent. Yoss didn’t say anything else.

Neither did I.

He refused my help getting back into bed and I didn’t push it. He seemed upset. Frustrated. I didn’t really understand what had prompted the drastic mood shift and I was too emotionally exhausted to question it.