Lost and Found

Her mouth opened wider along with her eyes. “I don’t understand. Why do you have to go tonight?”

“I…” He resisted glancing at Derek. His lips twisted into what he hoped was a smile. “Sorry for the short notice, Krissa. I’ve been thinking about it all the way back from L.A.”

“No.” She pressed her lips together. She glanced at Derek, then back at Nate. She shook her head, moved toward him, one hand extended. God, if she touched him he was going to come apart. He saw the confusion and pain in her eyes, and it sliced through him like a blade. “I don’t want you to go,” she whispered.

“I know this changes the whole baby plan,” Nate said, striving for lightness in his voice. “I’m sorry about that.”

She stared at him, green eyes huge and dusky. Long dark lashes framed her eyes, giving her a starry-eyed look. She still moved her head slowly from side to side. “But…but, Nate. We…” Her gaze went to her husband again.

“I’m sorry,” Nate choked.

He could see her trembling. He could feel her distress. He sensed how she wanted to beg, plead…even argue with him. And damn it, hadn’t he been encouraging her to fight for what she wanted? But not now. If she tried to stop him from leaving, he’d fall apart.

He wanted to kiss her goodbye. Hold her one more time. He wasn’t sure if he had the strength to ever let her go, if he did. But he had to feel her one last time, so he closed the distance between them, took her in his arms and wrapped her up in them. He held her small frame like that, pressed his face to her cool, silky hair, inhaled the scent of the peachy shampoo she used that would be forever imprinted in his olfactory memory as Krissa.

He opened his eyes, met Derek’s, saw pain there too. Good.

He drew back, tipped Krissa’s face up. Oh, Christ.

The anguish in her tear-sparkled green eyes cut into him, all the way to his soul, the deepest, most searing agony he’d ever experienced. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, and he bent his head to kiss her mouth, one lingering, gentle kiss. Then he released her, and stepped back to get his bags. His eyes burned and he lowered his head so Krissa wouldn’t see.

“Thanks for everything,” he choked out. “I…” He didn’t know what else to say. He’d said he was sorry, although she had no idea how sorry he was. He couldn’t tell her what the last few months had meant to him, what she meant to him…couldn’t say any of the things that spun around in his head. So, knowing he looked like an ungrateful jerk, he grabbed his gear and walked out the door.

It was the baby. That’s why she was so upset about him leaving. Because, one more time, he was taking away her chance at being a mother. Another knife stabbed into his chest.

He had to get out of there before he completely fell apart. He was unraveling, little by little, faster and faster. He’d felt this way since the first night he and Krista had had sex. The coming apart had started then, inexorably rolling along like a ball of string down a hill. All he could think of was getting away from there, maybe finding a motel room somewhere and checking in, and then disintegrating into a puddle of grief where nobody could witness his humiliation.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Krissa stood in the middle of the bright kitchen, frozen and empty. The smell of the garlic chicken she’d been grilling suddenly nauseated her.

Nate was gone?

She shook her head. How could this be? Her shaky legs weakened beneath her, and she stumbled over to a chair at the table and sank onto it. She couldn’t breathe, her lungs constricted, her abdomen tight.

How could he do that? How could he just walk away from what they had?

What did they have? That was a question she wasn’t sure she could answer. There were so many things she didn’t know. But one thing she did know was that she didn’t want to live without Nate. She didn’t know how to live with him, in this weird situation, but she knew she wanted him in her life. And he’d just walked out.

“Krissa.”

She blinked and looked up at Derek, standing there wan and troubled. She’d forgotten about him.

“Did something happen?” she asked him slowly. He looked almost as upset as she was.

“No.”

“I don’t get it.” Her voice trembled, her lips quivered. She wanted to break down into tears but was suddenly aware that this was her husband standing there. “Why would he leave like that?”

“I don’t know.” Derek’s voice sounded stretched thin. He put out his arms. “Come here.”

She looked at him. She couldn’t bear to accept comfort from him at that moment. And even though she knew it was wrong, she stood up and turned her back on him and went to their bedroom.

She closed the door and lay down on the bed. Every muscle in her body felt sapped of energy, weak and lifeless. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. Could only feel the agony cramping her tummy, throbbing in her heart.

Derek came to the door a while later. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been laying there.

“I know you’re disappointed,” he said. “I am too. And I’m kind of pissed off at Nate that he’d just take off like that.”

“He has a life of his own,” she said dully, not looking at Derek.

“We’d agreed that he would try…I tried to tell him that we could still go the donation route, if he didn’t want to stick around. He wouldn’t even talk about it.”

She just stared at the ceiling, eyes burning. For the first time in ages, having a baby wasn’t the most important thing in her life. At that moment, with Nate gone, she didn’t even care anymore. Nothing seemed important.

“It doesn’t matter.” She rolled onto her side, facing away from him.

“Krissa…”

“Please. Just leave me alone.”

She felt his presence, still and silent, then heard quiet footsteps cross the room and the snick of the door closing.

Many hours later, she finally roused herself enough to get out of bed. To her astonishment, it was dark. The house was hushed. Wandering into the kitchen for a glass of water, she realized Derek had gone out.

A twinge of guilt nudged her conscience. She’d been rude and hurtful earlier. He didn’t deserve that. It wasn’t his fault this had happened.

The cold water eased the ache in her throat. She found some painkillers and swallowed them, rubbed the thumping between her eyes. She looked at the chicken still sitting on the counter, cold and repellent. She opened the fridge with the vague idea that she should eat something. Nothing appealed to her. She looked in the freezer. Ice cream. Perfect.

But when she removed the lid, the container was empty.

Men. Which of those two macho idiots had put the empty container away? She was always bugging them—the empty milk carton appeared in the fridge, the empty peanut butter jar sat in the cupboard, and when she went to run the dishwasher she found an empty box of dishwasher detergent.

She sighed, tears prickling her eyes. She could go get ice cream. It didn’t seem worth the bother, but ice cream was all she wanted. She could drive up to the Dairy Delight on Coast Village Road and get her favorite mocha chocolate chip.

She didn’t care what she looked like, so she just grabbed her car keys and let herself out of the house.

Long line-ups waited patiently at the Dairy Delight, as was usual on a warm summer evening. The couple in front of her stood with their arms around each other, and the guy nuzzled the girl’s hair and whispered in her ear. Krissa watched them.

They looked like they had a normal life. Two people in love, out for ice cream. The ache inside her intensified and she almost walked out of the ice cream shop. But she forced herself to stand there and wait for ice cream she didn’t even want any more.

With her double scoop of mocha chocolate chip ice cream in a waffle cone in hand, she emerged onto the sidewalk. She stood there beneath the glow of a street lamp, ran her tongue over the creamy cold ice cream. Sweet.