24. Petra

Chapter twenty-four

Petra

Waking up naked in Reed’s bed should be awkward, because what happens at night doesn’t always translate into the light of day. But Reed and I are twisted together, and the skin-to-skin contact is delicious. I’m afraid to destroy the moment, so I lay still, hardly breathing, and soak in as much as I can.

“You’re staring at me, Pet. It’s creepy,” Reed mumbles. His eyes open to a slit before he grins and hooks his fingers around the back of my neck to pull me in and press our lips together. There’s a light airiness in my chest that’s unfamiliar, but welcome.

“You’ve always been the creepy one, baby,” I tease when we break apart.

Reed frowns at me. “ You’re baby. Sir? Yes. Reed? Definitely.”

“Whatever you say, boss.”

“You cheeky little brat,” he growls as he rolls me under him and kisses his way down my neck. His hands are everywhere—my thighs, my hips, my breasts—making all of me tingle as I giggle. His stubble scratches across my skin as he licks a trail between two of my freckle-type moles.

If I’m a brat, you’re a cocky dick. I smooth my hands down his back. “What are you going to do about it, spavaldo ?”

“Does that mean tall, dark, and handsome?”

“It means someone who is really sexy,” I lie.

“ Spavaldo ,” he repeats, sounding it out. It takes everything in me to hold back my laughter. “Better than boss any day. When do you have to go to work? ”

I groan. The last thing I want to do right now is go to work, but real life awaits. “Two. Is your checkout time ten or eleven?”

“I’m staying one more day.”

I pin him with a look. “Reed.”

“What?” he asks, smirking. “Have you had enough?”

I haven’t, and it’s unsettling. Every moment he’s here makes me want him to stay longer. “Eventually you’re going to lose interest and go home.”

His fingers dance along my side. “I haven’t yet.”

Logically, we need to have this conversation; emotionally, I’m already too attached. “I’m not running you out of town. Do what you want. But I’m not having sex with you no matter how long you stay. If that’s what you’re waiting for, you can head out now.”

“I’m not here for sex,” he says, shaking his head. “Though I’m not turning it down if the offer is ever on the table.”

“Shouldn’t you be searching for someplace to live?” I scoff.

“Are you angry I’m not sticking around?” Reed rolls off me, settling on his side, but his eyes pierce me. “No. You’re jealous . You wish you were leaving?”

I don’t bother hiding it. “Absolutely. LA has food, museums, sunshine, beaches, amusement parks. Did I already mention all the food? Everything I could possibly dream of was within thirty miles. Sometimes that translated to two hours in traffic, but—”

Reed bursts out laughing. “I forgot how long you lived there. How’d you and Nate end up down in California?”

“I met Nate on campus—University of Southern California.”

Reed’s face is a picture of shock. “Sorry. I assumed you moved there with him. What an asshole presumption. Of course you didn’t follow a man. Petra Diamante, force to be reckoned with.” He kisses me softly, stroking my arm apologetically. He’s right. Back then I was stronger, fiercer, independent. I wish I could go back to who I used to be.

“I did a few years at a junior college here, tried to rack up as many credits as I could to save money, but I wanted to attend university there. Transferred to USC, moved to Los Angeles…Met Nate.”

His hand slides down to wrap around my thigh. “Headstrong Petra. I love it. Why LA?”

I’m careful to keep my shrug casual, uncaring. “I knew I wanted something different. Bigger. And I found it. Fell in love with the city and all its possibilities. Dropped out the following summer.”

He frowns, gripping my thigh tighter. “What? You worked and pushed and got accepted to USC only to drop out? I don’t buy it.”

I can’t handle his closeness. I slip out of Reed’s arms and into the living room. Snagging my pajamas out of my bag, I yank on sweatpants and a shirt. I can’t stand being away from Natalia, and dig my necklace out of my coat pocket. My hands shake as I lift it, but then Reed is there, in his own sweats, and steadies my hands with his.

“Petra?” Reed tenderly tugs the chain from my hands and clasps it for me. He smooths her name flat against my skin, warming the metal. “Will you tell me about her?”

I’ve learned the hard way that if you can’t look someone in the eye, their pity is a thousand times worse. So I pin his gaze with mine, as emotionless as I can make it. “I got pregnant after a series of frat parties full of alcohol and bad decisions. I dropped out, moved in with Nate, and the rest is history.”

His palm rests over her name while his eyes search for answers I’m not ready to give. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” I snap, yanking myself away. He always makes me feel and say shit I’d rather keep to myself. “Fuck, Reed. Obviously I don’t have a child. Put the pieces together.”

Reed doesn’t let me go anywhere. He lifts my chin, eyes boring into mine. “But you’re still a mother. You always will be.”

I swallow around the knot in my throat. No one has ever said that to me before. Even in my own family, no one understands how much I love her. How she’ll always be a part of my life and my family .

Reed’s thumb touches my trembling lip. “I can’t imagine what you went through. That’s an immeasurable loss, Pet.”

My lungs contract around the rest of it. The months of dreams and possibilities. The terrifying, frantic rush to the hospital. The hours of labor, already knowing she was gone. I grit my teeth against the grief clawing at my chest and jerk away, searching my bag to give me something to do.

“It was a late miscarriage. Just over twenty-five weeks. I’m not sure what broke my parents’ heart more: being unmarried and pregnant so young, or losing their first grandchild.” It’s supposed to be a joke, gallows humor, but Reed doesn’t laugh.

His face goes white as a sheet. “Jesus, Petra. And my joke yesterday—”

“Whatever. Men being sweet with babies is hot.”

Reed pulls me in for a hug that breaks me more than if he’d left me alone. “Stop being rubber for a second and hear me. That’s awful. I’m sorry you went through it.”

“It was my own stupid fault for not being on the pill.” Reed’s hands freeze on my back, and guilt sweeps through me for spilling all this to him. Burdening him. “It was a long time ago, anyway. It’s fine.”

He doubles down, pressing us together, shoulder to toe, and he tucks my face into his neck. His hands stroke my hair and down my back. “Don’t lie. Not to me. Just shut up and let me hold you, Petra.”

I gasp out a half-laugh, half-sob. “You’re bossy.”

“I’m normally a switch.” His fingers tighten across my back. “But I’m holding you until you let yourself breathe. You don’t have to shut down to survive.”

I’m not ready for this. I thought I wasn’t ready to have a man see me, touch me, be physical with me. In reality, I wasn’t ready for the emotional side.

Everything I’ve pushed down stings in my lungs, but Reed holds me closer when I don’t reply. I slowly give in, softening in his steady arms, winding mine around to clutch at his shoulders .

“I don’t understand. Why stay with Nate after all that? If you were unhappy?” Reed asks. He rubs my back as I search through my memories. My past feels as though I’ve unleashed a spool of yarn all over the floor and can’t find the end.

“Our parents pushed us to move in together right after I learned I was pregnant. They also pushed us to get married, but planning a wedding was a lot. I was hormonal, moving, stressing over a budget, and Nate and I hardly knew each other. It wasn’t great timing, dropping out was a bitter pill, but I knew it would be worth it. We were happy about the baby. There was something like fate about it—the way people get smashed together in romantic comedies and then find out that they’re perfect for each other. Even her name was fate. I named her after my nonna, and Nate loved having her carry a version of his name. But then everything went wrong. After she—the baby—”

“Natalia,” Reed murmurs. It’s the first time anyone’s said her name aloud in more than seven years.

Natalia. Natalia. Natalia.

My hands fist in Reed’s shirt. “Her foot was smaller than the pad of my thumb. I didn’t want to let go, but they made me. Then my insurance didn’t want to cover the hospital stay, and we had to pay for her burial. I had her brought here, next to my grandparents. I needed someone to be with her.”

My voice cracks, and Reed is there, scooping me up into his arms and carrying me to the couch to cradle me in his lap.

“Just cry , baby, it’s okay.”

I shake my head. My ribs ache with the effort of holding myself together. “It destroyed me, Reed. I didn’t want to try for another, but Nate did. That’s what Tommy is angry about. After a while, Nate had enough. He tried to convince me it would make me happy, but I wasn’t ready.”

Reed’s hand is soft on my back, rubbing warm, soothing circles that ground me into this moment. It’s the only reason I get the words out without dropping into the past .

“I didn’t know what he was doing, and it took longer than he’d hoped. Hid my birth control, said he used a condom but he didn’t. Little things, until he got what he wanted. He was happy, but I was drowning. I couldn’t eat. I could hardly get out of bed. I miscarried again at sixteen weeks. After that, trying again would’ve killed me.”

Reed makes a pained sound—a twin to the grief sitting in my chest. “Pet—”

“We weren’t married, but I stuck it out for eight years. The way good, Catholic wives are supposed to. Until Nate couldn’t pretend anymore. He took over the apartment, and I couldn’t afford LA without rent control.” Nate isn’t a steady presence in my head, but saying it aloud makes the pain of his betrayal fresh and bold. “I thought he loved me, but maybe I was wrong.”

Reed presses his lips to my hair. “Sometimes love is fleeting. Sometimes grief changes us to need different people than before. But sticking with someone who makes you miserable doesn’t make God love you more, Pet. Just like listening to DKP doesn’t make God love you less. You deserve happiness,” Reed says softly, brushing a stray tear from my cheek. The rest has dripped down his naked chest, and I wipe up the trail, horrified. Reed stills my hands with his. “You take everything with a smile—you even laugh when you’re uncomfortable or upset. But I wish you’d let yourself cry. Really cry. You need it.”

I laugh incredulously as I dry my face with the hem of my shirt. “I don’t cry, and I definitely don’t smile.” But when I search through the past few days, that’s all I’ve been doing. It’s an uncomfortable realization, and I don’t want to consider why I’ve been smiling so often. I push away all the things I don’t want to see and try to find something normal to grasp onto. “Where are we getting breakfast?”

Reed frowns at me. “Rubbery-Petra, that’s all the feelings I get?”

I laugh, but it’s gritty and raw. “That’s more than anyone else has gotten, so take it and be grateful.”

Reed threads his fingers through my hair, and his eyes are red-rimmed when they capture mine. “You’re the strongest woman I’ve ever met. Thank you for sharing this with me when you hate being vulnerable. I wish I could give Natalia back to you—take away your pain.” I shrug, feigning composure, and he pulls me in for another squeeze. “You’re as prickly as your legs, Pet.”

“My legs aren’t prickly yet, are they?” I slide my hands down my thighs, but my pajamas are in the way.

“No.” He smiles, though it’s nearly as haunted as mine, and picks me up. He carries me into the bedroom and throws me on the bed. He settles next to me, stroking my side. “Not yet, at least.”

“Tontolino.” I shoot him a glare, but Reed just smiles, a more real one this time.

“If that’s all the feelings you can handle, will waffles help?” he asks. I nod, but Reed doesn’t let me get up. He strokes my necklace with reverence, and I don’t mind him touching her name. “Why don’t you let yourself cry?”

“It still kills me sometimes—but now there are hours or days where it doesn’t crush me. If I cry, I’ll drown. Writing helps. Natalia is the pixie I write about: a whole, healthy little being, full of fire and fun. I write the type of fairytale I’d want her to have growing up. One that says you can be tiny and powerful, that warriors can be kind, that sadness doesn’t last forever. It’s fantasy for grade school children, but that’s not the heart of the story.”

Reed nods. “The heart is Natalia.”

His thumbs sweep across my cheeks and he places soft, quiet kisses against my lips. When he pulls back, his cheeks are wet with my tears.

“I’ll help you publish it. Thousands of children will read it and see themselves in her. Natalia will live in them, Petra, in little pieces of their hearts.”

He means it, and the earnestness in his eyes breaks me.

Grief overwhelms me in a blizzard, whiting out everything around me except for the howls of despair clawing at my lungs. I cling to him, longing for her. Recalling the horror of that night. All those hours when I wished they would sedate me .

I sob against Reed’s chest while he says things I can’t understand and strokes my hair. It’s all noise except for Reed’s skin against mine, as he holds me the way I wish I could hold Natalia. When I pull myself together and I’m able to choke back some of my tears into harsh breaths, Reed’s words come into focus.

“I’m sorry you suffered through that alone, darling. I can’t change the past, but I want to ease your heartbreak. I’ll help you tell your story. You don’t have to do this alone anymore. Cry as much as you need. Hold on to me. I have you. I won’t let you drown.”