A Husband's Regret (The Unwanted Series)(41)

"Bryce, you've hurt me and I'm finding it . . . a little difficult to  move on from that." She removed her sunglasses, grimacing a bit as the  bright light burned into her retinas, but she wanted him to see the  truth in her eyes. "I'm trying to forgive you, but I'm only human, and  the mistakes you made were enormous. Try seeing it from my point of  view. Try to imagine how it felt to be so completely rejected for  getting pregnant. Imagine how lost I felt when you didn't call, when you  refused to take my calls, when you seemed to reject me at every turn."  He opened his mouth to say something but after a quick, painful breath  closed it again, and he allowed her to speak. "You've made some cruel  comments about the clothes and toys Kayla had when you found us again.  But every single cent I made went into keeping her clean, clothed, fed,  happy, and healthy. It was a huge responsibility that I had to bear by  myself. You weren't there, Bryce. It was just me and I had to make the  best I could of our situation.





  

"And then, when you found us again, you behaved like you were the  wronged one! Your deafness was somehow my fault and I had ‘abandoned'  you at the scene of an accident." She could hear the stark bitterness in  her own voice and knew that it had to be visible in her eyes and on her  face. She was still so very furious at the unjustness of those  particular indictments. "Do you not see how unforgivable those  accusations were? How insurmountable these problems are? And now you  want us to be a family, you don't want a divorce, and you expect me to  somehow be grateful for that? You expect me to forget all the pain  you've inflicted? Well, I can't do it, Bryce. I wish I could, but since I  have no idea what set you off in the first place, how on earth am I  supposed to trust you not to go off the deep end again? What if I  inadvertently trigger your rejection button again? I can't live with the  uncertainty. I don't want to and I refuse to allow my daughter to  experience the same pain and confusion.

"I know I've said it before, but I'm also heartily sick of your  secretiveness, Bryce. This situation has made me recognize how much  you've kept from me. You're completely closed off and that's not  something that's only recently developed. I've come to discover that  you've always kept things from me and I don't even care what those  secrets are anymore."

It was a long speech and it had been difficult to maintain her focus and  keep facing him so that he could catch all of it. She had tried to  intersperse it with as much sign language as she could, but she still  couldn't be sure that he had caught all of it. The hangover headache had  quite happily invited a tension headache to join the wild party in her  brain, and the pain was becoming almost unbearable.

"I was trying to protect you," he confessed after a long silence, and  Bronwyn cast an eye over to her daughter, who was starting to watch her  parents with a worried frown, not as oblivious to the tension as they  had hoped. Bronwyn cast a reassuring smile at Kayla. Not quite sure what  to make of that last statement.

"You and the baby," he said. "I wanted to protect you."

"Protect us from what, Bryce?" she asked, combining the spoken words  with broken sign language to convey her frustration. Every little bit  that he so begrudgingly revealed made her recognize how very much he was  still keeping hidden from her. She'd seen only the very tip of this  iceberg, and she was astounded by her own former ignorance. How had she  never recognized the magnitude of this problem? She had been so blinded  by her love and happiness that she'd never known what an unhappy and  troubled man her husband was. She had been so naïve and stupid.

"From what?" she asked again, and he shook his head helplessly. "Why did you react that way to the news of my pregnancy?"

He sighed deeply and the sound seemed torn from the depths of his chest.  His eyes were stark with unhappiness and fear. He shook his head again  before pushing himself up and dropping a kiss on top Kayla's head. The  little girl managed to smear some scrambled eggs across his cheek but he  didn't seem to notice as he straightened up to look at Bronwyn again.  The naked vulnerability on his face tore at her heart and she bit the  inside of her cheek to prevent herself from blurting out something  stupid. Something like she loved him or that she would stay. She felt  like she would do anything to wipe that look of utter isolation and  agony from his eyes.

"I'll get my assistant to look into viable homes for you. Once we've  compiled a list of possibilities, you can decide which one suits you  best." He turned and walked out of the room, leaving Bronwyn feeling  wrung out and deflated by the hollow victory.

Bryce waited until he was safely back behind the closed door of his  study before bending at the waist and inhaling deeply as the  consequences of his promise hit him like a freight train. She was going  to leave him and he was going to let her because she deserved her  freedom, because it was cruel to saddle a vibrant and affectionate woman  like her with an emotionally crippled husband, and most importantly  because he still didn't know how to explain his actions on that long-ago  night.



A baby, Jesus God, he had thought. He wasn't ready to be a father! He  would be terrible at it. He would be like his own father-abusive, mean,  and absent in both heart and soul. He couldn't have a child yet, not  until Bronwyn healed him some more. Over the last couple of years, she  had been a balm to his restless and damaged spirit. In time, her gentle  calm and kindness would have spread to him, would have seeped into his  soul and made him the kind of man that he longed to be. He would have  been ready to be a father then and responsible for a brand-new life. And  yet she was pregnant now . . . she had his baby inside of her at this  very moment. His breath hitched on a sob as he saw her in his mind's  eye, getting rounder, softer, her breasts growing full and heavy with  milk. He saw her giving birth, saw their baby: angry, red, naked, and  crying and loved it with all his heart. He wanted that life with his  entire being.





  

Not just the two of them but the three of them: A family.

Yes, he wanted that life badly, and with Bronwyn by his side, he was  almost certain that he could have it. He wasn't his father. He had  practically raised Rick without harming a hair on his head, so why would  he be any different with his own children? God, Bron probably hated him  so much right now, but he would try to explain it to her. Maybe he  could finally tell her about his father and she would understand. She  wouldn't think he was a monster just because one had sired him. She  would forgive him. She had to. Surely she loved him enough to forgive  him?

He was already back on his feet and ready to go talk to her when he  heard the engine of her BMW roar to life, followed by the unmistakable  sound of tires squealing in the driveway. His stomach clenched and his  heart just about stopped.

"No . . . nononononono . . ." The litany sounded like a prayer as he  lurched from the room. He heard a screech as she battled with the clutch  and then the throaty purr as the car obeyed her commands and sprang to  life. He was just out of the front door when the car went hurtling out  of the driveway. "God, please . . ." he begged as he turned back and  palmed his own set of keys from the table in the hall before diving for  the Maserati that he had left parked in the front. She wasn't a good  driver, and she usually battled with the curves on the steep, winding  road. He followed her at a distance, careful not to spook her; he could  see her taillights a few bends down and knew he would be able to catch  up to her in his faster car. He only prayed that she didn't misjudge a  curve and get hurt. God, he would die if she were injured or if the baby  got hurt. She would never forgive him if anything happened to the baby,  would never believe that he wanted it as much as she did but had just  been too damned cowardly to admit it. He wanted them safe. He wanted  them with him. He would give anything in the world to take back the last  half an hour. He was petrified that when he managed to catch up with  her, she wouldn't want him anymore, wouldn't love him anymore!

He couldn't live without her love. All that stupid overwhelming  tenderness he had told himself he felt for her, how the hell had he not  recognized it for what it was? The road was leveling out when it  happened-a young couple, hand in hand, stepped into his path. They were  so absorbed in each other that they didn't see him coming. He swerved to  avoid them and went off the road. He had just enough time to feel  gratitude that he had left the steep curves behind him before the car  flipped and rolled several times. He was briefly aware of feeling  excruciating pain everywhere, and his last thoughts before he passed out  were regret that he might never see his baby and absolute terror that  he might never hold Bronwyn again.

When next he opened his eyes, it was to profound silence. He gradually  came to understand that he was hanging upside down and held suspended by  his seat belt. He blinked at the gathering crowd outside the car and  the first face he saw clearly was hers. He smiled, relieved that she had  come back but puzzled by the complete lack of emotion on her face.