Involuntarily, I reel backward. “Is that how you think of it? That you did something wrong? That you caused it?”

Her shoulders curl into herself, and she drops her gaze to the ground. “I didn’t want it. Not at first. I didn’t see how it would fit into my life. And as soon as I started to warm up to the idea, it was over.”

I sit on the edge of the bed again with my head in my hands. She can’t think this way. I won’t allow it. “That’s not how it works,” I tell her. “You don’t cause a miscarriage by not wanting a baby.”

She gives me a half shrug, her gaze still trained on the ground. “The rest of it is still true.”

“I never cared about any of that. I only ever cared about you. Why didn’t you let me help you?”

The anguish is apparent in her eyes as they slide to meet mine. “There wasn’t anything you could do. You can’t fix everything for me, Ryan.”

Her words echo Casey’s, but somehow it hurts more coming from her. I might not be able to fix everything, but I can help. I wish she’d just let me help. Standing again, I walk to the window and throw it open. If only I could get some air, maybe I could think.

But gulping in the fresh, spring air does nothing to clear my mind. And when I turn around to face Scarlett again, hoping that seeing her face will help me find the right words to say to her, the space she had been occupying is empty.

She’s gone.

Chapter 30

Scarlett

As soon as Ryan opens the window and starts taking big, deep breaths, I know it’s my time to go. I have no idea what any of this means for us, but he deserves the space and time to process it all. I’ve had five years; he’s had about five minutes. And while I wish he had rushed to me and held me and told me that none of it mattered, deep down, I knew that was never going to happen.

If I’m being honest with myself, I buried the loss. Yes, I had talked to Dianne about it, but after the initial few meetings, we focused much more on my writing than anything else. That’s how I wanted it.

When I started writing again, I had a vague thought that if I had been able to have that baby, he or she would be in preschool. It felt fitting that I was getting back into it then. There are plenty of stories of mothers going back to work when their kids go to school. I read a lot of them in my darker, lonelier moments on the internet.