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No Longer Forbidden(52)

By:Dani Collins


“I thought it might give you a better understanding of who he was,” she said with stiff consideration and a nevermind shrug.

Part of him was curious. Of course he was. And he could tell that in offering this up she was looking for a measure of forgiveness. It seemed so unnecessary now. She wasn’t the reason he had failed to form bonds with Olief. He was. Olief had reached out countless times. Nic had always held himself just beyond touching distance.

He scowled as that hard truth sank like talons into his chest. He didn’t know how to be there for someone. He’d never wanted to know because no one had been there for him. So what had he thought to accomplish by coming in here? Raking her delicate heart over the smoldering coals of her lost dream of a family?

The inadequacy that had been smoldering in him since she’d admitted she wanted to marry for love licked at him with thicker flames.

“It made me realize I should do the same for Mum,” she was saying with a jerky nod at the boxes against the far wall. “Giving all that over to a writer would solve a huge problem I have with what to do with playbills and photos of her with other celebrities—”

“I didn’t come in here to take book pitches,” he said quietly.

“Well, I don’t want to talk about what you did come to talk about, so tell me you’ll do it or I’ll give it to the competition.” Her voice was flat, her spine like a thread of glass—deceptively stiff but innately brittle. “Proceeds to benefit a search and rescue foundation, I think, don’t you?”

For a second he knew what other people saw when they looked at him: absolute disengagement. His heart gave a vicious twist inside his chest. He hated talking about the failed dreams that lived next to his bones. How could he ask her to show him hers? But he had to know more. He lifted a helpless open palm.

“I had no idea, Ro.” It astounded him that he hadn’t known. Yes, he might have kept his distance from her through the years, but his ears had always been open, his brain quick to store the tidbits he’d gleaned from Olief. “Did Olief know? Did your mum?”

Rowan’s chin jutted out stubbornly in profile before he saw her composure crack with a spasm of pain. She turned away to pick up a handtowel grayed with streaks of dust and wiped her fingers on it.

Rowan couldn’t believe she’d blurted out the truth so indelicately. Her stomach was still spinning like a bicycle wheel, burning at the edges when she tried to slow it down. She wanted to make some comment like her sterility didn’t matter, but her lungs were wrapped in a tight spool of cord.

“Mum didn’t think it was a big deal,” she finally managed. She looked through the French doors, beyond the balcony, out to the beach. The tide was receding, leaving kelp on the dark, flat sand. Puffy clouds on the horizon promised a breathtaking sunset. Thanks, Mum. I didn’t get what you wanted and I don’t get what I want either.

“Not a big—? Rowan, what happened?” Nic’s tone was outraged, but also bewildered. Worried. Closer.

Rowan’s pulse sped up, but she didn’t let herself turn around and read anything into his nearness or concern. With great care she folded the towel, even though it would only be thrown down the laundry chute.

“It’s not uncommon for women who don’t have much body fat to lose their periods,” she said, smoothing the blue nap of the towel. “I haven’t had one in years. I’ve gained a little weight since leaving school, but not enough for things to become normal. It might not ever happen.”

She was proud of her steady tone, but his silence encased her organs in ice.

“Mum said kids would ruin my career anyway. I guess I thought she was right. That if I was training and working and traveling I wouldn’t make much of a mother anyway. So it was for the best.” The words burned like a hot iron rod from the back of her throat to the pit of her stomach. “I didn’t let myself think of it much at all, to tell the truth. It was too big and—well, you know how doctors are. Quick to blame me because I wasn’t taking care of myself. I felt responsible, but also like I couldn’t change anything given the pressure I was under, so I ignored it. But with dance no longer being a part of my life and Mum and Olief gone …”

She sighed and the weight on her chest settled deeper.

“.I’m realizing that I would like a family.”

She couldn’t help the yearning in her voice. This was the first time in her life that she knew what she wanted, deep down and without a doubt. A blanket of calm settled on her. Not peace. Not relief. She knew she wouldn’t get what she wanted—not the way she wanted it—but at least she knew what would fulfill her. The relief from fruitless searching allowed her to find a smidge of courage and acceptance.