Greg’s eyes sparked with mirth, but she could see the relief underneath. He took her face gently in his palms and held her softly. “There’s my Jessie girl.”
She didn’t want to fight with him, or live with the anger anymore. She threw her arms around his neck and held on for dear life. “I’m not mad at you. I should have told him. I tried, but I couldn’t get the words out.”
“You did everything possible to find me and bring our girl into this world happy and healthy,” Dylan said from behind her. “I don’t blame you for anything, Jess.”
“Everything I did wasn’t good enough.” Greg’s arms wrapped around her tighter as she hid with her face in his chest from Dylan. Childish and unlike her, but everything that happened left her raw inside.
Dylan glanced at Greg. The same concern on his face Dylan felt inside. He had a hard time seeing her cling to Greg, but he kept his jealousy in check because at least she held on to someone. She hadn’t drawn back into herself. If she couldn’t bring herself to turn to him, at least she’d turned to her friend.
“Jess, I don’t know what to say to you,” Dylan said, at a loss.
She turned to him then, fire flashing in her eyes and her hands fisted at her side. “Go ahead and say it. It’s my fault she died. It’s my fault you never got to see her.”
He sat on the edge of the bed, so she wasn’t looking up at him. He wanted to pull her to him like Greg had done, but she wasn’t ready to accept that kind of intimate contact with him. When she’d had the fever, and he’d taken care of her, she’d had no choice. Now she did, “Don’t Touch” was written all over her.
“The stupidest thing I’ve ever done is walk away from you. Do you think I’d be stupid enough to think you had something to do with our daughter’s death, or the fact I wasn’t there?”
“You didn’t get to see her.” Tears glistened in her eyes.
“That will always be the biggest regret of my life. My mother knew and she didn’t tell me. She’s the reason I never got to see my daughter, not you. You’d never do something like to me. It’s why you couldn’t tell me. You don’t have it in you to hurt someone like that.”
He hung his head. He couldn’t believe he’d never get to see his daughter or touch her. He’d gone home last night and fallen asleep with his son. Will missed him and they’d had a guy’s night together, burgers and a movie on the couch. Will stretched out on his chest and fell asleep. Dylan had all the time in the world to look at his boy sleeping on him and wish he’d had the chance to hold his little girl the same way. He didn’t have the heart to take Will to his own bed. He’d lain there for hours enjoying the feel of his boy in his arms and thinking about Jessie and Hope.
His eyes were soft and a little glassy. He swallowed hard, but then the muscle in his jaw jumped as he held back his emotions. Jessie remembered, for him, this was fresh grief. She’d had years to adjust to their daughter’s death. He’d just found out. She’d felt Hope moving in her belly. She’d watched her come into the world. She’d held her for hours upon hours those five days. She’d been there when Hope took her last breath. She’d kissed her goodbye and told her she loved her. Dylan never saw her, touched her, smelled her sweet baby scent, or said his goodbye. He had nothing of Hope to remember.
She stepped in between his long legs and pulled his head to her chest and held him. She ran her fingers through his hair and kissed the top of his head. Greg closed the door, leaving them to their privacy.
“She was beautiful. She had pretty hands. Her little fingers were long, and even though she was just born, she had pretty nails. Her little feet were so chubby, her toes had dimples. Her hair was so soft, the slightest breeze made it kind of float. When she slept in her incubator, she’d hold her little hands together and put them to her mouth. When I held her, she’d turn her head to me and burrow as close as she could get. She liked to be against my skin the best.”
Her voice cracked and Dylan stroked his hand up her back and held her close. She continued to comb her hands through his hair. He leaned into her touch. It had been too long since they’d shared this deep connection.
“I told her about you and how I used to chase after you when we were kids, and you were my best friend. I told her daddy was the best quarterback the school had ever seen. I told her how smart you are, and how you care about other people. I told her daddy liked fast cars, football, classic rock, French fries with ranch dressing, fishing, and taking long drives alone. I told her that one night we danced in a fancy ballroom and kissed under the stars. I told her on that beautiful night I gave you my heart and you gave me her.” She took a deep breath and didn’t even try to hide or stop the tears streaming down her face.