‘You’re right,” I said. “And I never planned to send those papers. If you can’t believe the rest, please, Ella. Believe that.”

She stared at me, the monitor continuing to beep. “You had to have them drawn up.”

Much as I wanted to drop my gaze, I didn’t. I held hers. “I went to see a lawyer, yes. But I never—never—planned to leave you.”

Her lip trembled and for a moment I saw all the pain there. I sucked in my breath at its depth.

“I don’t know if I believe you,” she whispered. “You have your famous life now—the one you always wanted. You get to rub elbows with all those bloody famous arses.”

“None of that matters as much as you, Jeremiah or our daughter.”

She continued to stare at me, her eyes wide, the hurt spilling out. I reached forward and clasped her hand.

“Please, Ella. Please. I know I’ve made mistakes. But don’t shut me out.”

She inched toward me as some of the pain morphed into the love that had shone from her eyes when she looked at me. I’d missed that look, the feel of being wrapped in her love.

“I love you, Ella,” I said. “I only love you, only want you.”

The beeping grew more insistent. Two nurses rushed into the room, followed by a doctor.

The older nurse shooed me from the chair. “We need you to step outside.”

I rose, my heart pounding as fast as Ella’s was. “Is she okay? What about the baby?”

“Out, sir.”

The doctor picked up a device and placed it on Ella’s naked belly. The slight curve there slowed my steps, and I gawped. Ella’s loose sweater hid both the tiny tummy bulge and the sharp peaks of her hip bones. When the doctor raised her gown higher, her skin showed each indentation of ribs.

She hadn’t looked like that last time we were together—before those pictures of Monique came out, before she began to pull away, and I let her. I let her because it was easier than dealing with her jealousy and fears. Easier just to brush them off. But . . . seeing her so thin and heartbroken. My own heart cracked wide.

“Oh, Ella,” I whispered, but she didn’t hear my concern, too busy crying harder as the doctor listened to the baby’s heartbeat.

“Nice and steady,” he said, patting her thin shoulder.

“Out!” The nurse prodded me hard with her index finger. Once through the door, I turned back in time to have the wooden edge clip the tip of my nose.

9

Ella

Opening my eyes, I blinked against the deep pulsing in my head. My hand immediately cradled my stomach, reassuring myself of the baby within. I glanced over at the fetal-heart-rate monitor the doctor prescribed after the scare that sent Simon from my room. A small yip fell from my lips.