"You should take a shower," he said, numbly. "Wash him, that smell, off you. I can't stand it."
I blinked at him, but nodded. "Are you—" I started.
"Please, Eden," he said, his expression miserable, his voice extra raspy.
We stared at each other for a few seconds and then I nodded again and he moved out of the way as I passed him. When I glanced down at his hands, I saw that they were still shaking. Oh, Calder. It felt like my heart was breaking, so I could barely imagine what his was doing.
I shut the bathroom door behind me and took a long, hot shower, washing my hair three times and scrubbing my skin with a washcloth until it stung.
When I opened the door to the room, wearing only a towel, I looked around. It was empty. Calder had left.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Eden
I lay awake on the hotel room bed, not moving a muscle, listening to the soft whir of the fan I had left on in the bathroom. Calder had taken the car and gone somewhere. I knew he wouldn't desert me, pregnant and alone here in the middle of a state I'd never been to before. He wouldn't. We'd been through much worse than this, and Calder had always sought to protect me. I refused to believe this had broken him for good. Yes, it was horrifyingly awful, unthinkable, devastating, and sick on so many levels, I hadn't even tried to count. But we'd deal with the emotions of it together—we'd have to. What other choice was there?
I thought about texting Xander, but I couldn't bring myself to give him part of the story and leave him hanging. That wouldn't be fair. And I couldn't bear to talk to him about Morris when I hadn't even talked to Calder about him yet.
I lay there, feeling broken. I put my hand on my belly and drew strength from that small part of me deep inside, the tiny group of cells forming into a human, another heart beating in the depths of my body. My hand felt warm on my own skin.
Hours later, I finally heard footsteps coming toward the door on the cement walkway outside. They sounded unsteady and off-balance and I narrowed my eyes. The door clicked and Calder pushed it open, swaying very slightly, a dark shadow in front of the pale light of the lit hallway behind him. I sat up, holding a pillow on my lap, my arms wrapped around it.
Calder came into the room and kicked the door shut behind him. "Hi," he mumbled, walking toward me. He obviously had been drinking, his walk unsteady, his eyes sleepy. He fell onto the edge of the bed and groaned softly. I remained quiet. After a minute he looked toward me, squinting with one eye. "You mad at me, Morning Glory?"
I huffed out a breath. "Did it help?" I asked. "Drinking alone at a bar? Did it help?"
Calder kept squinting at me, looking as if he was working out a puzzle in his brain. "I didn't know what else to do."
"You could have stayed here. You could have talked to me about your feelings."
He laughed. "My feelings? Where do I even start?" He shook his head back and forth slowly. "How can you not be disgusted by me? Did you see where I came from?" He started laughing a raspy laugh that died and turned into a grimace. "Holy fuck. Did you see what I have running through my veins, Eden? Did you see? What was that thing? Was it even human?"
"Calder . . ." I said under my breath, my heart pinching so tightly I brought my hand to my chest.
Calder propped himself up on his elbows behind him, lowering his chin, and glancing at my stomach before he focused on my face. "That baby in your belly, that baby has the same blood coursing through it as that thing in that house today. We both do. How does that make you feel? You've always been so pure, and I've always been so dirty. Hector was right. I am Satan's spawn. No fucking wonder." His face was deeply pained.
I tossed the pillow to the side and walked on my knees to where he lay at the end of the bed. I took his face in my hands, gripping tightly, and looked into his eyes. "You listen to me, Calder Raynes," I said, my lips tight. "You are nothing like the man we met today. I don't care whether his blood runs through your veins or not, I don't care that his DNA created you. That does not define your heart. And all that tells me is that even someone disgusting and evil and lewd can do something beautiful. That ghastly, horrifying human, even him, he did something wonderful for this world. He created you. And. You. Are. Good." I let go of his face and leaned back on my heels.
Grief passed over his face. "No. I'm bad. I am evil. Everyone sees it. Hector saw it. My parents saw it—they tried to burn me, Eden." His voice choked on the last word. "Oh God, they tried to burn me."
I sucked back a sob, moving to him so quickly I didn't even make a conscious choice to do it. Suddenly my arms were around him and I was cradling him to me, his head between my breasts, my cheek resting on the top of his head. It was the first time he'd mentioned his parents. Even in that beautiful Bed of Healing, he hadn't been ready to go there, had skirted around the topic. Even after three years, and despite the alcohol in his system, when he looked up at me, the devastation and heartbreak were clear in his deep brown eyes. He didn't shed a tear, but I did, remembering the horror of that moment. I held him now because I couldn't then. I cried for him. I cried for the agony I knew lived in his heart because of the ultimate betrayal of that one moment in time, a moment that left him feeling scarred and unlovable. Thrown away, sacrificed in a way that still made him bleed inside.