Janey propped her chin on her hands and studied his face, which was tight with the kind of tension she hadn’t seen since the day their son was born under dramatic and frightening circumstances. “The way everything happened with P.J. It’s got to be on your mind that it all began right here with you and me in a bed together, making love. And I’m just wondering, if it’s possible, that you’re so afraid of getting me pregnant again that it might be messing with the equipment.”

Joe began to protest but stopped himself, sighing and closing his eyes. “Yeah, it’s possible.”

“Do you know that in all the weeks since P.J. was born, you’ve never told me what that day was like for you?”

“Because that doesn’t matter now. You’re both safe, it’s in the past, and there’s no need to relive it. Once was more than enough.”

Janey wished he could see how tormented he looked at the reminder of what had to be one of the worst and best days of his life all rolled into one unforgettable twenty-four-hour period. “I think you relive it every day and suffer in silence over it because all the focus has been on me and the baby—”

“Which is exactly where it should be. You’re the one who went through the trauma of emergency surgery.”

“I had it easy, Joe. I was unconscious and had no idea what was happening until it was all over and everything was fine. That’s not how it was for you, is it?”

His jaw pulsed and clenched as he struggled to retain his composure. “I don’t want to talk about this. Why are we rehashing the past when it doesn’t matter now?”

“It does matter if it’s still weighing on you so heavily.” She moved farther up to kiss his unresponsive lips. “Joe, honey, talk to me. Tell me what you went through so we can get past it and move on. Don’t keep it all bottled up inside.”

He turned them so she was on her back and got out of bed, pulling on a pair of shorts with hasty, jerky movements. “I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to relive it, and if you’d been awake, you wouldn’t want to either.”

Janey held out a hand to him. “Come back.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I heard you.”

He took her hand and reluctantly allowed her to guide him back to bed. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to bite your head off.”

“It’s okay. I get it. But I have all these blanks, you know? One minute I was napping in Mac’s guest room, and the next I’m in Providence with a new baby and a traumatized family all around me.”