Beautifully Forgotten (28 page)

“What did you learn?”

“Something that I think should come from Darcy.”

Immediately Lucien was put on the defensive. Was she keeping something from him? Was she married? Had she been? After the weeks they had just shared, how could she keep anything from him?

“No, tell me.”

“I really think you need to talk with Darcy.”

“Just tell me!” Lucien demanded, his jealousy turning into a living thing.

“There was a baby.”

She had had a baby. Someone else’s baby? His baby? Was that why she’d sought him out? Was she looking for money? Jealousy turned into rage. Or did she give up his baby? And then he remembered her reaction to his question regarding skeletons. What a fucking secret to keep from him, especially considering their own childhoods.

His voice turned cold and hard. “Where is the child now?”

There was sympathy in Josh’s expression when he said, “The baby died.”

Suddenly Lucien felt ill. “How?”

“Apparently the pregnancy was a difficult one. One day Darcy got light-headed and fell down the stairs. She was rushed to the hospital, but the baby didn’t make it, and she almost didn’t either.” Josh’s voice softened when he added, “It
was
your child.”

“Oh my God.” Lucien was horrified, almost as much at himself for the conclusions he had jumped to as he was for the loss of their child. “Where is the baby buried?”

“Darcy’s mother had the baby cremated with John and Jane Does while Darcy lay unconscious in her hospital bed. There were no ashes.”

“What?” That word came out in a roar. Knowing Darcy as he did, she would have felt responsible for losing the baby; but having the decision on its resting place taken from her would have been devastating. She didn’t even have a place to go to mourn their child.

Suspicion filled him at Darcy’s mother’s motives. She didn’t give a shit about Darcy, so why get involved in the baby’s burial? Why come for Darcy after the tragedy?

And Darcy had to deal with a pregnancy, the loss of her child, and almost dying herself—and did so alone. He needed her at that moment. He needed to feel her safe and warm, and then he was going to get on his knees and beg her to forgive him. And not just for the past, but because he had violated her trust by seeking out information that she obviously wasn’t ready to share.

“Thanks, Josh.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Beg for her forgiveness.”

Josh’s smile was slight before he said, “Sounds like a good place to start, son.”

Darcy was on her way to the bathroom when she heard the sound of Lucien’s voice. She stopped in time to hear Lucien yell, “Just tell me!”

“There was a baby.”

She recognized that voice as Ember’s uncle’s. But Lucien’s tone made her sick. He believed she had given their baby up. How could he believe that of her? But then Josh proceeded to detail her very own nightmare. She backed away from the door as numbness filled her. He had had her investigated, had violated her privacy and dug into her past and her pain. What the hell gave him the right to do that? She had to get out of there.

She reached the living room and spotted Ember. She thought about making some excuse for why she was leaving so suddenly, but she just didn’t have it in her.

“I have to go.”

The concern was clear in Ember’s voice. “Is everything okay?”

She couldn’t reply because the words wouldn’t come. Instead she grabbed Ember’s hand and squeezed before she practically ran from the apartment. Outside she started walking until she saw a cab and hailed it.

When she arrived at the orphanage, it looked so different than it had when she’d called it home, but there was one place that still looked the same: her tree. The same gnarly tree that she and Lucien had agreed to meet at that day.

Her baby had already been cremated by the time she was conscious again—an open cremation with other nameless souls so that there were no ashes for Darcy. Her mom claimed it was the cheapest option, but why did her mom not wait for her? It was like her mom was purposely spiting her. So she lost her baby, never got to hold him or her, or say good-bye. There wasn’t even anywhere for her to go to visit the baby she’d loved from the moment she’d found out she was pregnant.

Darcy had hated returning home with her mom after she’d lost the baby, but the woman had insisted and since Darcy had been underage, she didn’t have a choice. And then as soon as they’d returned home, everything was exactly as it had been, except her mom’s increased dependency on alcohol. Why had her mom wanted her home again?

Her mom spent her days drinking and her nights picking up strangers. How she paid the rent was beyond Darcy because the woman didn’t work. Darcy had thought about leaving countless times, but the only place she had to go was St. Agnes. Two things kept her from escaping to there: her mom would only find her and bring her back and there were too many memories to haunt her.

She turned her thoughts from her mom. The pain of Lucien’s betrayal was staggering. It was on her for not telling him sooner about the baby, she knew that. But he had had her investigated, which was bad enough, but it was unforgivable that he could jump to the conclusion that he had about the baby: that she had abandoned their child. Once again he believed the worst of her. He didn’t question, didn’t argue, but believed so easily that she could do something so horrendous: inflict on their child the type of childhood they both had suffered through. She had loved their baby, would have done anything for their child; in fact, she had already started looking into government aid and housing so she could keep her baby.

All these years she carried the guilt and responsibility of what had happened between her and Lucien, but for the first time her anger wasn’t directed inwardly. Hearing the disgust in his voice, knowing he immediately believed the worst of her, left her with an emotion that felt an awful lot like hate.

Lucien walked out of Trace’s office feeling like he’d just played chicken with an eighteen-wheeler. They had made a baby. He gave himself a moment to indulge in what-ifs. Their child would have been almost fourteen now had he or she lived. Was it a boy or a girl? Would he or she have had his nose and Darcy’s mouth? Maybe her beautiful eyes.

The thought that Darcy had dealt with both the pregnancy and the loss alone while he was off being bitter and self-destructive sickened him. He needed to find her and tell her everything and then do as he told Josh he would, beg her to forgive him. When he reached the living room, he noticed that Darcy wasn’t there, but Ember and Trace were and it looked as if they were waiting for him.

He asked, “Where’s Darcy?”

“She left.” Ember’s voice held a note of pity.

Immediately he knew that Darcy overheard his discussion with Josh. “How long ago?”

“About ten minutes.”

“Goddamn it.”

“You want help finding her?” Trace asked.

Lucien stopped halfway to the door to look back at his friend. “Thanks, but I need to do this alone.”

“Call if you change your mind.”

By the time Darcy returned home it was close to three in the morning and she wasn’t really surprised to see Lucien sitting in the hall outside of her apartment. As soon as he saw her, he stood up and started toward her. She stopped him from pulling her into his arms by stepping back and putting her hand up.

“I’m tired. This is going to have to wait.”

“Damn it, Darcy, I’ve been sitting out here all fucking night.”

She turned on him and all the anger she had been feeling for the past few hours just bubbled right out of her.

“Really, I’m so fucking sorry for that, but, just a thought, maybe if you hadn’t gone behind my back and had me investigated, you wouldn’t have had to sit out here.”

“I was wrong.” How simple and easily given those words were.

“I’m glad we agree on that point.”

“I was wrong, Darcy. I know just how wrong I was, but I love you, damn it.”

And the hits just kept coming—to hear those words from him now broke her heart. They weren’t going to change what she needed to do.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear you say those words to me again, but it’s too little, too late, Lucien.”

“What the hell are you saying?”

She was surprised how calm she sounded when her heart was shattering. “I could have forgiven you for invading my privacy, can even understand what fueled your need to do so, but I can’t forgive you for believing that I would have abandoned our child. Every time you are faced with a choice, you always end up believing the worst about me.”

“Darcy, I was wrong.”

“Yeah, you were, and the next time you are faced with believing in me or not, what’s to keep you from doing what you always do? Judging me and finding me wanting.” Angry tears burned her eyes and stained her cheeks. “You don’t get to judge me. You weren’t there”—her voice broke and her shoulders slumped in defeat—“through the devastation of loss and the years that followed. I don’t need your judgment or your hate because I hate myself enough for both of us.”

Lucien tried to take a step toward her but she pulled away from him. “Darcy.”

“I can’t do this.” She turned and started for her door.

“And you get to decide that it’s over between us? This second chance we’ve been given, you’re just willing to walk away from it?”

Her eyes speared him from over her shoulder. “I’m following your lead.”

The door closed in his face with a decided click.