“My responsibilities.” There was a sheen of sweat on his forehead. “Do you think I don’t know how much is riding on this? Our home. Our lifestyle. Your happiness. All the things you love and that are important to you. I know all that. Believe me, I feel it. It’s the reason I haven’t slept through the night in months.”

She didn’t know that. She didn’t know any of it. Every word he spoke made her feel worse, and she didn’t know which part to tackle first. Her life was unraveling so fast she expected to find nothing but strands of it at her feet.

She’d done her best to make their home comfortable and their lives predictable, and now it turned out she’d been stressing him.

She wrapped her arms around herself. Without Holly’s cheerful chatter and laughter, the cottage seemed colder than usual.

They had to take it a step at a time. One issue at a time.

“Tell me why you’re not sleeping. Is that because of the job? But none of this is your fault.”

“Maybe not, but it is my responsibility. You didn’t sign up for this.”

Responsibility. He kept using that word, and not in a tone that suggested it was something he welcomed. She filed that in her brain as something to be tackled later. Right now there were more urgent matters to discuss.

“You’re talking as if we made some kind of deal.”

“Isn’t that what marriage is? A deal?”

“No. You make it sound like a business transaction and—” She frowned. “We didn’t get married as part of a deal. We got married because—”

“You were pregnant.” His tone was flat and his eyes tired. “We got married because you were pregnant, Christy.” He said it as if it was something they’d both denied until this point. As if it was a dark secret they needed to acknowledge.

She rubbed her chest, trying to ease the ache that had settled behind her ribs. Did he really have so little awareness of her feelings for him? Or was he describing his own feelings?

Did he regret marrying her? Was that what he was saying?

Did he regret their daughter?

She thought about the way he was with Holly. The way their little girl giggled when he played with her and fought to stay awake until Seb was home so he could read her bedtime story. His endless patience and warmth.

No, he couldn’t regret their daughter. She wouldn’t believe that. Which meant the only thing he could regret would be her.

Her heart lurched. This conversation was like standing on the deck of a ship in a storm. She felt unbalanced and unsure which rail to grab in order to steady herself. “That wasn’t why I married you. I don’t ever want you to say that again. Think of Holly. What if she heard you?” She’ll turn out like Alix. She’ll have Alix’s issues.

“I think of Holly all the time. Why do you think I’m awake at night?”