She had been exhausted. Every time I saw her, the purple under her eyes was more prominent. Just before she left, we had gone through her closet to donate some clothes that had gotten too big. We joked about it then, both of us too uncomfortable with the fact that she was wasting away to talk about it. I had tried to cook for her when she was home, but there was only so much I could do when she was on the road. And she always seemed to be on the road. But a few weeks before she left for New York, we had spent almost every minute together. Then one more set of interviews, and she was supposed to have months off. Trina and I protected that time off for her, even as the book club and appearance requests kept rolling in.

I was so fucking stupid. Why the hell did I think more money would have made any of that better? Of course it wouldn’t have. The love of my life was drowning in the middle of an ocean, and I sent her what I thought was a lifeboat but was actually a measly piece of wood.

And she was pregnant on top of it all.

Rubbing my aching eyes under my glasses, I huff incredulously. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“When, Ryan?” She sounds irritated. When I look at her again, her expression confirms it. “I sat in that room, actively bleeding while people talked over me. No one asked me what I wanted. No one bothered to check in with me. I had gone from a flight to a conference room with no time in between. I was still bleeding. How long was I supposed to be paraded around like a commodity? In perpetuity? Until my books stopped selling? No one was worried about anything but dollar signs.” Her eyes fill with tears again, glittering in the fading light filtering in through a crack in the curtains. “Not even you.” She whispers that last part, like it hurts her too much to say.

“I didn’t tell you to leave me.” I fight to keep my own irritation out of my voice. It seems like we’re going to have it all out right now, so I might as well say it. “You didn’t have to be alone with this. I tried calling, messaging, stopping by.”

She makes a pained noise, and her nostrils flare. “In retrospect, I know I made a huge mistake. I was young and stupid and confused as fuck. But in my defense, why the hell would you want me anymore?” Almost shouting now, she stands and leans forward, almost on her toes. “I couldn’t hack it. I blew up your deal. I got myself blacklisted from JMP. And I couldn’t even have your baby.” Her voice cracks on the last sentence, as if it can’t hold the pain anymore.