Last night it'd felt as though the door had slammed against her skull. She'd woken with a migraine splitting her head open. Her brother had been in a panic as he'd carried her from the house to the car and then into the hospital emergency room. Headaches had been frequent in the past couple of weeks, but that one had edged into brain aneurysm territory. The pain had almost cleaved her in half.
The doctor had thrown around PTSD, stress. Emotional strain. He couldn't give her a definite diagnosis for the reason behind the debilitating migraine. Yet he stated that it-and the previous milder headaches-weren't unheard of after a head injury. They were mostly likely due to a combination of the head injury, possible residual brain swelling, stress, and emotional strain from the amnesia. Amnesia. Police investigation. Dodging voracious and insatiable reporters. Unplanned pregnancy. Take a pick which contributed to her stress and emotional strain.
He'd written a prescription for a very mild sedative, but she hadn't filled it yet. Hadn't decided if she would. Not only did she cringe from taking anything while just out of her first trimester, but she needed the nightmares. Not wanted, but needed. As crazy as it sounded, they were the only signal that her memories of that night were returning. She had to know what happened with Gavin.
"There was no need to stay overnight." She offered him a reassuring smile. "Ethan, I'm fine. Really. After a few hours the pain was more than bearable. As long as the baby was okay. That's what-who-I was most worried about." Unconsciously, she lifted her hand over her stomach. Once the shock had worn off, the wonder had crept in. Then the joy. No, the pregnancy hadn't been planned, but she wanted this baby with a fierceness that surprised even her.
Ethan set his mug down in the sink and turned to her, smoothing a hand down his already-immaculate tie. She narrowed her eyes on the gesture-his tell. Something was up, and he wasn't saying.
"What's wrong?"
His head snapped up, guilt flashing through his eyes before he hid the emotion behind an unreadable mask. Just like their father. "Greer," he said, then sighed when she crossed her arms and arched an eyebrow. "Fine," he muttered. "Last night. I was so worried something was seriously wrong I-" He hesitated, and his gaze flickered to the ceiling-a dead giveaway she wouldn't like his next words. "I called Mom and let her know you were in the hospital. And … about the baby."
The air whooshed from her lungs. She sagged against the kitchen wall. "Ethan," she breathed, the sour tang of betrayal washing out the tepid flavor of the tea.
"Please, honey," he pleaded softly, approaching her with his arms outstretched. He tugged her into his embrace, and she allowed it only because she was too stunned to fight him. How could he? "I've never seen you like that before. It was different-so much worse than the other headaches. I believed she'd want to know if you were in trouble. And that she was going to be a grandmother."
"Why?" she snarled, the hurt and bitterness that always accompanied thoughts of her parents barreling into her. "When I actually was in trouble, they abandoned me, threw me to the wolves. What makes you assume they would give a damn now?"
"Greer," Ethan whispered. "You know Mom is just weak. She doesn't really agree with Dad."
"But she did nothing while he denounced me. And she didn't privately reach out to me." She wriggled, hoisting her arms up between their bodies and shoving out of his embrace. "Even now that I've been somewhat cleared, neither one of them has apologized or supported me. They don't deserve to know what's going on in my life, with me, and especially this baby. You had no right."
He sighed, dragged his palms down his face. "I know. Now. And let me just get all of it out. I gave her your new number. She'll probably call you, and I didn't want you to be caught unaware. Honey, I'm sorry," he hurriedly apologized. "I was just … scared." And he'd reached for the woman who should've offered him comfort when he'd faced the possibility of losing his baby sister. His mother. Damn. She couldn't blame Ethan for his need to connect with Celeste Addison. Too bad she didn't possess the maternal instinct that made the word more than a title or circumstance of birth.
"It's okay, Ethan." She patted his arm before leaving the kitchen, leaving her half-finished tea on the counter. "I understand."
In some ways Greer was tougher than her brother-she'd had to be. Unlike his sexuality, her imperfection hadn't been as easy to hide from their father and his ridicule. Diagnosed with dyslexia as a child, she'd been the family secret and embarrassment until Ethan had announced his homosexuality. And whenever he'd lashed out at them for their fatal flaws, their mother had silently stood by, wringing her jeweled fingers as Ethan II verbally abused her children.
A quick knock rapped against the front door. Ethan brushed a hand over her shoulder as he strode down the hallway toward the foyer.
"Hey, Noah." She shook her head, smiling as Noah Granger's voice reached her. Between her brother and her best friend, she was mother-henned to death.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, arching a brow as Noah walked down the hall, Ethan behind him.
"You have a doctor's appointment this morning. You didn't really think I'd let you go by yourself, did you?" Exaggerated outrage colored his voice. She grinned, probably as he'd intended.
Noah had been her best friend since third grade when he'd accidently knocked her down on the playground, and she'd sliced her chin open on a sharp rock. She absently rubbed the old scar on her chin in memory. Blood had poured from the cut, his eyes had rolled in the back of his head, and he'd fainted. From that day forward, they'd been inseparable. He used to help her memorize spelling words to pass tests and spent hours working with her on her homework. He'd pumped his fist with her when she'd made the A-B Honor Roll for the first time. He'd supported her-albeit reluctantly-when she'd become engaged to Gavin. And he'd held her while she cried when she'd discovered his betrayal.
Every important moment in her life, Noah had been right there, advising and encouraging. He hadn't been thrilled when she'd told him about the pregnancy, but in true Noah fashion, he'd shrugged and said he always wanted to be an uncle. She loved him.
"You didn't have to come all the way over here," she scolded. His Charlestown apartment was about twenty minutes away from Ethan's South End brownstone. "Ethan offered to go with me."
Noah scoffed. "What does that mean? He doesn't know the important things to ask. Like when will you feel the baby move? Can the baby really hear music through your womb? When can you have the epidural?"
She laughed. "Damn right."
Ethan smirked. "He's got me there. I definitely wouldn't have thought of the epidural question. But." He glared at Noah. "Forget it. I'm still going. You ready, Greer?"
"Let me get my coat."
Moments later, Ethan locked up, and they descended the steps of his duplex together. She and Noah headed up the sidewalk toward her car, and Ethan climbed in his since he would leave for his office after the appointment. As they walked, she scanned the street for anyone who didn't belong. For months, she'd hated leaving the house because of reporters swarming around her as soon as she stepped out of the door. Cameras shoved in her face for an accidental sound bite. In just the last three weeks or so, the frenzy had abated. The police had finally received the DNA evidence back. Her blood hadn't been found at the scene. And neither her nor Gavin's blood had been detected on her clothes. Yes, her fingerprints had been on the knife, but the head injury had supported her claim of entering the apartment and being knocked out. Add in her Raphael alibi-which thanks to a police leak to the press had caused another sensational flurry-and she'd been removed from prime suspect status.
She sucked in a hard breath.
Raphael.
He'd been on her mind ever since discovering she was pregnant-well, that made it seem as if he'd never left. Which he hadn't. If she had a wish for every time she'd started to dial his office number, she would be as tall as Naomi Campbell and have Scarlett Johansson's body and Oprah Winfrey's money. And that would've just been the first day since she'd seen him last.
After her hospital stay, she'd hated dragging him into the mess her life had suddenly become. In the months that followed, her reasons for not contacting him hadn't changed. Her life hadn't become less tangled, but more. Pulling him into it more than necessary? No. So not happening.