Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 62362 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 312(@200wpm)___ 249(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62362 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 312(@200wpm)___ 249(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
She drew a deep breath and let it out. “At first, I panicked. Now that I’ve had a couple of days to accept the reality, I’m still scared, but I want the baby.”
He released a breath he hadn’t been aware of holding, and his shoulders eased down. “Okay, good. That’s good.” He’d barely processed the news, but he couldn’t imagine any other outcome. He’d have let her decide. After all, it was her body. But he was relieved.
“You’re okay with that?” Her hand gripped his.
He nodded. “I am. But we have a lot more to talk about, yes?”
“Yes.”
And he’d lead her through it until he knew everything.
A knock sounded on the door and they turned.
“Are you ready for dinner?” Maggie asked, placing the bottle of beer on a coaster on the table by the sofa.
“We need some time, Maggie. But thank you. We’ll come in when we’re ready,” Jade said.
The middle-aged woman smiled. “Of course.” She turned and walked away.
Knox shifted to get more comfortable and then faced Jade again. “Okay, so you found out you were pregnant and you ran.” Which seemed to be her MO, he realized, thinking back to the morning after their first night together, when she’d planned on sneaking out. “Why?”
She met his gaze. “I didn’t know how you’d take the news, for one thing. And then I had my anxiety to consider. I’m on medication, and I need to know what I should discontinue, what I can stay on, and how those answers will impact the baby and me. I was overwhelmed by it all.”
Her answers took him off guard, but he internalized his concern. “I don’t want you to suffer. We’ll find out together and deal with it,” he assured her.
Her eyes were wide and he wasn’t sure if she believed him. They’d get there, too. “What else?” he asked.
“My birth mother.” Her voice was soft, and he knew they’d come to the core of her fear. “When I was eight, I was reading a book in a little nook I loved in the family room. If you didn’t know I was there, you wouldn’t ever notice me. My brothers came in, talking.”
She ran her tongue over her lower lip. “Harrison had been going through a tough time at school. I wouldn’t say he was depressed, but some kids were jerks because he liked theater and not sports. And I guess he was thinking about our real mom. And he was telling our other brothers he was worried that one day he’d do what she did.”
He winced and wasn’t sure what to say.
She continued, so he didn’t have to find the words. “Asher, who was fifteen at the time, slapped Harrison on the back and told him he wouldn’t inherit her illness because he wasn’t a girl. Harrison felt better and the boys went to the kitchen to snack.”
“Shit,” he muttered.
“Yep.” She wriggled, trying to stand.
He shook his head. “Nope. You’re here until we’re finished.”
“I just wanted to pace.” She pouted and he found it cute but he refused to give in.
“And I want you close. Go on,” he said softly.
She sighed. “Asher’s words scared me so badly I got my first migraine that night. I think I worked myself up so much that my body needed to let it out.”
“Makes sense. Did you tell anyone what you’d heard?”
She shook her head. “I was eight. I didn’t want to get my brothers in trouble or make anyone mad at me.”
“So you internalized what Asher said, even though it was totally incorrect?” Asher would hate himself if he knew what his throwaway comment had done to the sister he loved.
She lifted her shoulders and lowered them again. “I was eight,” she repeated. “By the time I learned the truth about heredity and mental illness, migraines were a part of my life. They probably would have been anyway, since they can be inherited. My mother had them, too.”
“When did your anxiety surface?” he asked.
“I’m not sure I knew what the feeling was at first. Butterflies in my stomach over nothing in particular. Panicked feelings for no reason. Over-reaction to little arguments with friends that shouldn’t have gotten me so agitated. By middle school, I was in the throes of it. Dad took me to a therapist, and that’s when I learned I wouldn’t inherit Mom’s specific mental illness just because I was a girl. The doctor taught me that my issues were my own. But by then, the fear was already deeply ingrained.”
“Was that the first time you had therapy?” Knox asked.
She nodded.
It had been a little too late to help, Knox thought, but he knew Michael Dare had been overwhelmed by life and his children when his wife had left, then passed away. He’d done the best he could at the time.
Knox thought back to what Jade had told him about her mother, her desire to be pregnant because she loved the attention, and how she’d neglected the kids she already had. It wasn’t a big leap to realize what was really scaring Jade.