Love Unexpected (Navy Love Series Book 2) (32 page)

She smiles shyly. “That would be nice.”

I unclasp her hands from my neck and lead her toward our bedroom. The entire way, I think to myself how fucking lucky I am. This girl completes me. I almost destroyed what we have with my stubbornness, thank God she believed in me, and in us.

Coming soon: J.C. and Jo’s Book

(Book 3 in the Navy Love Series)

Resilient Love (Book 3 in the Navy Love Series)

Prologue

Jo

5 months ago

Who would have guessed I’d be in this situation?

It was all a shock to me. My nerves are all over the place this morning.

Thank God I have Miller here with me. I can’t imagine asking J.C.; it probably would have just cramped his style.

And possibly freaked him the hell out that I was pregnant in the first place.

Yeah, I’ve kept that little secret to myself; no one else knows except Miller.

She’s always been a reliable friend, and having gone through a couple miscarriages herself, she’s been a great shoulder to lean on in this situation.

I took a pregnancy test with her by my side. It wasn’t quite a week later that I started experiencing cramps and spotting.

Of course, I grew concerned. When I asked Miller if it was normal, the expression of pure sadness and understanding on her face told me the pains were not something I wanted.

“How long have you been spotting?” Miller asked.

“On and off for a couple days now. The cramps are really strong, though.”

“Fuentes, you should probably call your doctor.”

“Oh, I already did. I have an appointment scheduled next week. I should be around ten weeks then.”

Unconsciously, I place my hand on my lower abdomen. I know I can’t feel anything yet. The baby’s the size of a peanut, but I know it’s in there.

No the timing isn’t right, and no, I’m not in a committed relationship with the baby’s father, but I know this baby will be loved. J.C. is great with Sawyer, I don’t know if he wants his own or not, though. And I have a ton of nieces and nephews back home.

I’ve been around babies and toddlers all my life, being a mother will come second nature to me.

Yeah, it may have not been what I was planning but the end result will be great. I’ll have a beautiful baby of my own.

“Hey, you okay?” Miller’s question snaps me back to this fucked up reality I’m currently in.

I give a small nod. Glancing around the sterile hospital room, I try to find some sort of positive aspect out of this whole thing, but nothing comes to mind.

Following her advice, I called the nurse line that evening when the pain became even worse, damn near unbearable. I didn’t understand why they wanted me to immediately report to the emergency room, but I figured I’d get to hear the baby’s heartbeat a week earlier than I had anticipated.

Not wanting to go alone, and unsure of my driving abilities, I had Miller pick me up and she went with me to the ER.

Although I didn’t understand what was going on, I was excited to hear and possibly even see the baby. I silently prayed they found everything to be okay. However, once they hooked me up to that machine, all of my hopes quickly evaporated into thin air—there was no heartbeat.

I was miscarrying the baby.

That was four days ago.

Four days of walking around with my dead baby in my uterus.

The doctors wanted my body to try to pass the fetus on its own, but after a check-up yesterday, they’ve agreed that a D&C procedure is the best option for me.

That way they can remove all of the fetal tissue and prevent infection.

Fetal tissue? Like it’s a fucking science project.

Frankly, I couldn’t care less about an infection. My body caused my baby to die. I don’t care if it gets infected now; it betrayed me.

Having a child wasn’t on my list of priorities, but I was ready to embrace the crazy hand life had given me. Only to find out the stack of cards was a dud.

A trial run. A mistake. A do-over.

Before I’m able to get control of my emotions, tears overflow my eyes. I’ve cried so much in the last few days.

I’ve shut myself off from all of my friends. Thanksgiving is in a few days, and I’ve told everyone that I’m going home to California for the holiday. When truly, I have no intentions of leaving Norfolk, but I’m not sure I want to be around my friends.

All of us went to dinner last week and J.C. kept wrapping his arms around Tegan, it was all a joke to get under Reed’s skin, but it got under mine as well. I don’t know if I can handle him acting like that again, not in my fragile state now.

And I don’t know how I’ll feel after this procedure. The doctor says some women are back to normal within a few days while others it takes up to two weeks to get back in their usual routine.

“You’re going to be fine, Jo. They’ll put you to sleep and you won’t feel anything. You may be a little sore tomorrow, but you’re tough. I know you’ll get through this,” Miller says, trying to calm my nerves.

She’s right; I won’t feel a thing today, but when I wake up I know I’ll feel the emptiness.

Looking around the room, I watch as my friends bask in their happiness. I’ve never felt excluded with this group, I’m closer to them than I am any of my childhood friends from back home. Now I do feel excluded, though, and it’s my own fault.

I’m the one who’s chosen to not tell anyone what happened last week.

Not that Thanksgiving dinner is the time or the place to discuss that.

Miller convinced me that I needed to come today. Aside from sitting in my apartment alone, the only person who I’ve talked to is Miller. No one else understands what I’ve gone through emotionally and physically.

I’ve never been one to play the victim, but this depression that has hit me refuses to go away. I feel like my entire personality was taken during that procedure.

Seeing Tessa with her round belly has been incredibly difficult today. I’m thankful for everything else going on that has her mind distracted because typically I’ve been hands-on—literally.

Hunter has complained before that the babies will have a special bond with me because I’m constantly talking to T’s belly or rubbing it.

That isn’t the case today, though; I haven’t touched it at all. I’m too scared my tainted touch will bring harm to those babies as well.

Ludicrous to think that way? Yes, but I can’t help it. The entire process of losing my baby has fucked with my head. And being in the situation alone, I carry all of the blame and guilt.

Miller has told me multiple times to talk to J.C., that he has a right to know. I’m terrified he’ll look at me with the same disgust I see in the mirror. Or worse, what if he’s relieved the baby died?

Better to not chance it.

Arriving home that night, I don’t know which emotion holds the most space in my heart now; sadness, loneliness, or relief.

Unfortunately, I don’t have long to ponder it because the moment I sit down on the couch with my old crocheted blanket, someone begins pounding on my door.

“Jo,
open the
door
,” J.C.’s voice comes from the outside.

He has to be drunk. Why else would he be here?
I avoided him as much as possible today.

I didn’t want to start a conversation with him, too scared I’d confess everything.

I lean against the door.

“Go home, J.C.,” I say.

“No. Let me inside.”

With my forehead pressed to the cold wood, I try to piss him off so he’ll leave. I’ve had enough human interaction today. And he’s the last person I want to see.

“You drunk? Because if so, you came to the wrong house to get some pussy tonight.”

“
Jo
, open the
fuckin’
door.”

He bangs against it hard enough that I’m sure he could end up splintering the wood.

My tears fall silently as I stand there waiting for him to leave. The pounding stops after a minute, and I think he’s gone—until I hear his defeated voice.

“I’m not drunk. I just want to know what’s going on with you, Jo. You know damn good and well you mean more to me than just pussy.”

He’s right, I know he isn’t drunk. The southern drawl in his voice comes out even more than normal after he’s had a few drinks.

“Please, Jo, let me in.”

J.C.

Please, Dear God, open the door.

Silence.

Jo isn’t the typical girl, she’s as tough as nails and hard as any man we work with. She’s confident, independent, and fucking radiant.

I don’t know what is going on with her, but I saw a difference in her today. She wasn’t that typical Jo we all know and love.

For her to shut herself away from all of us, I’m sure something is wrong. That’s why I’m here. Yeah, I could have gone to the bar, or stayed over at Tessa and Hunter’s longer, but I wanted to check on her.

When she slipped out quietly this evening, all eyes went to me, expecting me to know, or perhaps, be the cause of her sadness.

It was Miller who saved me from the barrage of questions geared toward Jo. Questions I don’t know the answers to; questions she refuses to acknowledge.

Truth be told, I’m madly in love with the broken, spitfire woman on the other side of the door, but she acts impartial to me.

I’ve seen the way it cripples a relationship if the love isn’t returned.

I stand with my head pressed against the door, praying she’ll open up and let me in. After a few more minutes of deathly silence, I know it isn’t going to happen.

Pulling my head away, I lightly tap on the frame as a way of tapping out. My back is halfway turned when I hear the unmistakable sound of a latch unlocking.