James's POV

Five times.

She has spoken to me five times since last three days. I have been counting it like my life depends upon it, helplessly hoping for that number to miraculously multiply by thousand every time she opens her mouth, but each time has been as disappointing as before.

My grip tightens around my phone as I receive another call from the office and resist the urge to throw it against the wall. She's been sleeping, a lot, and that's good, she needs the rest but a part of me knows that even when she's awake, she keeps her eyes closed just so she doesn't have to make an effort to talk, or do anything.

It feels like someone has taken our life and crumbled it in their bare hands without caring for the consequences. When my phone rings for the fourth time, she opens her eyes and looks at me, a message clear behind them and I bite on my tongue to hold myself together before I pick it up.

"What?" I snap, wondering what the hell must be so important that I have received so many calls since morning.

"Mr. Clark," I hear Eve's nervous voice on the other end, "Are you coming to the office today?"

"No."

"You've already missed yesterday's meeting with the new investment project and you have a board meeting today. Your father is furious wi–"

"I don't care, Eve. Handle it, and if you can't, don't. I don't care what you do, just let it be and stop calling me." I can't hold in my annoyance, moving to hang up as I hear her protests on the other end.

When I look at Lillian, she has closed her eyes again and I almost feel bad for reflecting my anger in front of her. I am angry, I am furious with life right now but mostly, I am really scared for her, for us.

The image of how I found her bottoms covered with blood crosses my mind and I suck in a breath, repeatedly trying to push it at the back of my head. I knew it the moment I saw her, there was no chance of saviour at that point but even if we couldn't save the baby, I have to save her before I lose her to her own thoughts.

My heart aches at the thought of the baby, of the chance at perfect life that we lost. Dr Lea made it clear that the hope for any future was gone too, but I wasn't giving up that easily. We need a second opinion, and I've fixed an appointment for tomorrow with the best gynaecologist in Atlanta. I haven't told Lillian yet, mostly because I've been afraid of her reaction.

The most she talked to me ever since we found out was before her medicines took over in the hospital and she fell asleep. All she did before that was cry and mumble a lot of things about the baby that she didn't share with me before. The thought of what we've lost makes the tears sting in my eyes but I push them back.

As much as it is killing me to see her this way, I have to put a brave front for her.

She hasn't told anyone, not even her parents so I have kept my mouth shut because I am not going to break the news to anyone unless she's comfortable with it. For the first time in my life, I haven't gone to work in three days and if my father really knows me well enough, he would be aware that something is majorly screwed up. But even if he doesn't, I don't fucking care.

Right now, all that matters to me is the woman I love, who is breaking inside and I can't leave her alone.

She's mad at me. I know she is; she was mad at me before she left the office that day and I have been regretting the words I said, having repeated them over and over again in my head. If I could take them back, I would, in a heartbeat but they are just out there.

I slip out of the bed, careful not to disturb her but even if she is disturbed, she barely reflects it on her face. My thoughts race in my head as I prepare breakfast for her, grateful for the past year to have learned how to make it. Once I'm done with the eggs and putting fruits on the plate, I settle it on a tray along with a glass of milk before taking it to the bedroom.

She has turned on the other side of the bed, with now her back to me. I settle the tray down on my side of the bed and speak up, "Lil, breakfast."

Her shoulders stiffen at the mention of food and I pray to god that she doesn't protest like two of the five times she talked to me was to deny eating. When she doesn't move, I go to the other side of the bed and kneel down in front of her.

She has her eyes shut closed and I hesitantly bring my hand up to caress her cheek, grateful because she hasn't pulled away once from my touch. If she did, all this effort would be down the drain because I'm hanging by the straw.

"You need to eat, please," I start and she opens her eyes, the blue orbs swirling with pain as they meet mine. "If you don't eat, you won't be able to take meds and you know that's important, right?"

She gulps, nodding, her eyes filling with tears as she moves to sit up and a moment of relief washes over me at her effort. Without exchanging a single word, she just picks up the tray and moves to have her breakfast, and I can't help the satisfaction that bubbles inside me.

Her eyes meet mine and I offer her a small smile, already aware that it wouldn't be returned. She goes back to eating while I stand up, "I'm going to run a warm bath for you."

When she doesn't protest, I immediately take that as her agreement so after putting out her meds, I move to the bathroom and run the water for her. Last night when she woke up crying, she didn't say a word, she just cried into her pillow until I pulled her closer and then she cried into my chest before she fell asleep. 

I want to say so much to her, and I have, I have tried but all I've gotten in response is a nod. This is not the end. She must know that. Even if every doctor confirms what Dr Lea has told us, this isn't the end. We can still adopt, and I know she wouldn't object to that but right now, she doesn't need to hear the alternatives. She needs to grieve.

When I step into the bedroom, she's nowhere to be seen and her dishes are gone too. I groan a little because I already know where to find her. I don't want to push her over the edge, or say anything remotely wrong but she needs to rest – two weeks, at least.

"Lillian," I call out when I enter the kitchen, "Please don't be like this. I got your dishes, I got this, love. Just please go take a bath and rest."

I stand behind her, taking the glass from her hand as she closes the faucet and turns around to see me, "Don't worry, James. I don't have anyone besides me to look after anymore. I got this."

Sixth time, and her words slice right through my heart. I gulp, trying not to let my hurt be evident on my face as I take the blow.

"That's not fair," I manage to speak with a calm tone and she immediately scoffs at me.

"Don't talk to me about fair."

She passes by my side and I hold in my anger until she's out of the sight before my grip on the glass turns so tight that it ends up shattering in my hand, the glass immediately cutting through my palm as it drops to the floor.

"Fuck!" I curse, bending down to pick up the shattered pieces. She must've heard the glass but she wouldn't bother coming out, I know that much by now. It's a miracle to get her to care for anything these days.

It's strange how cold her tone was, almost alien to me because I've never witnessed it before. How the fuck is this my fault? I am aware of the words I spilled, but I was being a dick, and sometimes I say things with the right intention which come out wrong but I lost the baby too. 

As the blood through my cut continues to spill, I first move my hand under the water to stop the bleeding. I wrap a rag around it before moving to the bar and picking up a bottle of whiskey. I bring it to the sink before uncapping it and spilling the content of it on my hand, a loud hiss leaving me due to the sting.

Just as I get the bleeding to stop a little, the doorbell rings, "Ah, crap!"

I fold the other side of the rag on my hand before hurrying to check the door, praying for it to be a lost person because I don't think I can really attend to anyone right now. When I see Hale on the other side, my face almost pales at his presence.

"Where the fuck have you been?" He loudly curses and I look behind myself, hoping that Lillian doesn't come out of the room. She wouldn't, but just in case, I know she's not ready to meet anyone yet. "James, talk!"

I take in a shaky breath, "I've been busy."

"With what? You've been MIA from work, man! That's not like you." He scowls at me until his gaze moves down to my hand and he seeks the blood soaking rag. "What the fuck?"

"It's nothing, I just broke a glass by mistake."

He doesn't buy it. He pushes me inside before stepping in and his eyes move through the apartment. He wouldn't find anything, really. It's same as always, except much quieter and gloomy.

"Where's Lillian?" He asks and I immediately lie to him, without blinking an eye.

"Sleeping. She's a little sick."

"What?" He frowns, looking back at me. "What's going on, James? Are the two of you fighting?"

I sigh, the stinging pain in my hand and my heart fucking up with my head as I stare at my best friend, possibly the only friend I have apart from Lillian. What do I say to him?

"Listen, Hale. This isn't a good time."

He runs a hand through his hair with a worried look, his other hand on his hip as he sighs. "I don't know what's going on, but this isn't like you. I'll leave, but just let me look at your hand first."

When he steps closer and snatches the rag out of my hand, I know it's not worth protesting. He grimaces when he sees the cut and scrunches his nose.

"Put alcohol on it?" He asks, receiving a nod in return. "Good man, now go get me a first aid box."

I sigh, moving towards the bedroom as I look back at him, "Just take a seat, now that you're here."

He nods, moving around as I enter the bedroom to get the first aid from our bathroom cabinets. Lillian's lying down on the bed, her back to me so I don't bother saying anything to her. Either she's asleep or she clearly doesn't want to talk so for once, I'm going to let it be.

Her words hurt me earlier. I know she's hurting too, and she didn't mean them but I've got to cool down before I speak to her again. After collecting the kit, I move out to the living room but Hale is nowhere in sight so I look for him in the kitchen and he's wiping the shattered from the floor.

"Thomas, don't do that shit," I unnecessarily snap and he gives me a look.

"Lillian's sick, your hand is fucked up, so someone's got to do it. Now sit and let me look at that cut."

I know I don't have friends, but with Hale, he's a full package of group of friends. He has been there for me without asking for it, and that's more than I can ask for. After he's done cleaning the glass and my blood from the floor, he moves to clean my wound and applies some anti-septic on it properly before wrapping it up with gauze.

"Is she really sick?" Hale asks me, filling up the kit and I sigh, making a momentary decision as I look at him.

"Yeah," I pause, "We lost the baby."

I hadn't said it out aloud until now. Not once. It feels like my world starts to crumble all over again as I repeat the truth about my life to him and he freezes. His hand come to a halt on the lid of the box as he meets my eyes.

"What?"

"She had a miscarriage."

I see the way his expression turns from already existing worry to worrier. He doesn't move for a few seconds, but when he does, he wraps himself around me in a tight hug, "Fucking hell, James! Why didn't you tell me?"

A breath leaves me, a very painful exaggerated breath as I gulp, returning the hug momentarily. I don't think Hale and I have had a lot of moments of affection, because he knows I'm not one for it. But it doesn't matter right now. Nothing matters right now.

He pulls away and his eyes search for my face. "Shit. Is she okay?"

I shake my head. "Not at all. I don't know what to do, except I can't leave her alone, Hale."

"Of course, does Carrack not know? Fuck, he must not. That's why he was furious. You've got to tell him."

I immediately shake my head again. "No, no. We haven't told anyone. I don't think she even realises you're here. I didn't want to tell anyone until she was ready, but then you showed up."

Was I wrong to tell him? God, I hope not. I don't want to hurt her more than she's already hurting but he's my best friend. I had to talk about this. It's been killing me from inside.

He nods at the explanation. "But she's going to be okay, right? Both of you are going to be okay."

I don't want to tell him more, not until we get second opinion at least so I keep my mouth shut. I look down at my wounded hand and that feels nothing compared to how I've been feeling inside.

"Hopefully, yes. It's just a lot, so I don't know when I'll be back at work, but don't mention this to anybody. Not even Alex, alright?"

I specifically mention her because during her breakdown in the hospital, Lillian told me how Alex spilled it to Elena who mentioned she could never have imagined me being as a father. There's irony to her words now, and that's why it made the woman I love feel the guilt more. She doesn't deserve the guilt; this is no one's fault. We cannot blame ourselves for this, however badly we might want to find something to take the fall for this.

"Of course, you got it." He nods. "Are you sure you're fine? You look like shit."

I offer him a reluctant smile. "I just want her to be fine, and I'll be alright."

"I'll get out your hair, but I'm just a call away, James."

"I know, thanks for stopping by."

He passes me a weak smile as we head for the door. I sigh as I close it behind him and look at the empty apartment. I spend the next hour cleaning the kitchen with one hand and managing to take a shower in the other bathroom with my palm in the air without getting the gauze wet.

I don't go in the bedroom for the rest of the afternoon, sitting alone with my thoughts in the balcony. I peek in twice only to find her lying down on the bed. Since she had late breakfast, I already know she wouldn't eat lunch so I don't even ask her, aware that it will lead to another argument. When the evening starts to come by, I know that I have to tell her about the appointment tomorrow morning so I go inside.

To my surprise, she's sitting but her eyes are fixed out of the glass door as she stares out. The reminder of the pain comes as I gaze at her. She looks broken, and I don't know how to fix her. I know she'll come back to me, she has to, what we share is stronger than this but I don't want to push hard right now because I'd rather her come to me on her own terms than push her away.

"Hey." I make my presence known in the room and she looks back at me before looking away again. I take a seat on the edge of the bed, facing her. "I need to tell you something."

That seems to get her attention as she looks at me, staring blankly. I want to hold her, but I know our last conversation didn't go well so I am going to wait until after dinner to take that step.

"I fixed an appointment for tomorrow, just to get a second opinion." I start, reading her expressions but she immediately shakes her head.

"No."

Seventh time. A disagreement. Fucking great.

"Why not? We need to get a second opinion before taking such a huge decision."

Her face musters up in anger. "How many more times do you have to hear the same words again? If it isn't clear, one time was enough for me."

"Lil, she's the best gynaecologist in the city. There's no harm if we take–"

"We? I need to get a hysterectomy done, and I am not getting it. Fuck this shit." She turns away to stare out the window again and my jaw twitches from anger, her words piercing through my heart over and over again.

"We've come down to you and I now?" I ask, and her eyes meet mine as the realisation flashes through them. "I know you're in pain, I understand but don't say things you can't take back when you would want to move on from this, and you will. Because it's hurting right now, and it will for a while but you aren't the only one who lost or loved the baby."

I see how guilt takes over her expressions. I don't want to cause her guilt, I really don't but she has to realise the impact of her words. She isn't alone in this, and I can only go on so long before hitting the rock-bottom myself.

"And if that's what it comes down to, Lillian, for you to get a hysterectomy, then even if you hate me, we, yes, we are getting that done because there's no way in hell I'm putting your health at risk."

I know my tone is cold, I know my words are harsh but I'm not sugar-coating the words for her. If it comes down to her health and anything else, it's her health I am going to choose over everything.

Tears run down her eyes as she processes my words and I close my eyes to get rid of the tight knot around my throat. When I open them, she is staring at the wall as a sob escapes her. Fuck, James! I pushed too hard.

I move on the bed to go near her but she just shakes her head, "Not right now, please."

My fingers tighten into a fist as I gulp down the rejection. I get up from the bed and leave the room, aware that if I were to stay in there, I would've gone against her wishes to hold her, and then I would've hated myself for the same because I've never once touched Lillian against her consent. She knows that too, so she doesn't push me away until she's made her mind.

I go into the new study we made, turning one of the guest rooms on this floor into the home office space because we turned the previous one into a nursery. I cancelled the crib after she had gone to sleep in the hospital, aware that its arrival would only bring more pain but neither of us has yet stepped into the nursery. It's going to take a lot more strength than either of us are capable of gathering right now.

After shutting the door behind me, I let out a loud curse, slamming my healthy hand on the desk. I want to say that it hurts, but that's not true at all. Everything seems dull if I look back at how my life has turned into last three days.

I don't know how long it passes with my disturbing thoughts until the door opens and I look up to see Lillian standing there. Her faces flashes with relief takes when she seems me which makes me frown at her.

"I thought you left."

What?

"Never again. I promised you."

She nods, looking down at the floor before meeting my eyes again. She has bags underneath hers, and her hair are unkempt but my heart still beats for this woman, despite how much she might aggravate me.

"Can we talk?"

Fuck. I never thought she'll say those words to me again. She wants to talk. I eagerly nod my head in a second, without thinking. I don't care if she wants to yell at me or blame me for everything that's wrong right now but as long as she's speaking, I'll have it over her silence.

"Not here." She mumbles so I stand up to follow her out of the room and down the hallway.

She stops in the living area and I'm surprised when I find that she prepared dinner which is set up on the dining table. She just microwaved frozen packages, but it's still an effort. I bite back my tongue to stop myself from commenting how she shouldn't have done it.

After we take a seat across each other, I fix a plate for her and she takes it from my hand before keeping it in the middle of the table and standing up. I frown when she moves to my side and takes the chair next to me before turning it to face by my side so I move a little too.

My heart almost jumps out of my chest when she takes my wounded hand and examines it. "What happened?"

This is the first time she's touched me on her own. I blink a little to hold back my emotions and clear my throat to speak up. "Dropped a glass."

"I heard Hale. He knows?" She asks, so I simply nod in return. A sigh escapes her before she meets my eyes. "I haven't been fair to you."

As much relief her words bring me, I also see the guilt behind them. "I understand, Lil. It's fine."

"Just because you understand things doesn't mean they are alright." Her voice cracks a little as her eyes fill up. "I didn't mean what I said this morning, I am upset, and I don't know how to act or feel, or just be. You're right, I am in pain, and it hurts so much that I find it hard to breathe."

I bring my hand up to wipe her tears. "I know. You take as much time as you need."

Her hold on my wrist tightens a little as I control myself from holding her. I don't want to push her away again. "This isn't just about me, and I know that's how I've been acting but I'm so sorry, James. You loved the baby as much as I did, so I know you're hurting too."

Oh, baby. You have no idea. Her leg brushes against mine as tears sting my eyes from her words. I pull on her hand a little but the next moment, she closes the distance between us as she climbs onto my lap.

When I hold her into my arms, it's like I can breathe again. I inhale her scent as I press a kiss on her forehead, tears finally escaping me at the relief of having her so close to me.

"I'm sorry for what I said, or how I've been, I'll make it up to you. I need time, James, but so do you. But not from each other, so I really need you to call me out on my shit like you did an hour ago, please. I can get lost, and I will probably get mad or fight with you, but I'll come back to you."

Her words make the pain in my heart almost bearable as I tighten my hold on her. "What if I push you too far away?"

"I'll always, always come back to you. You're all I have to hold onto right now."

She brings up her hand, the back of it wiping my tears as she presses a kiss against my lips. Jesus! It feels like I haven't kissed her since eternity when it's just been a few days. I rest my forehead against her, her words making the tension in my body decrease as I process them one by one.

"I am so sorry, love. For whatever I've said or done to hurt you, but I just... I can't lose you too."

She nods, sniffing as I wipe her tears. "Just please shift the appointment to day after tomorrow. I need to be mentally ready for it. I'm scared."

"Of course, I shouldn't have ambushed you with it."

She turns towards the table and pulls the food plate near us before cutting into a piece of chicken and bringing it to my mouth. "I know you want to take care of me, and I let you but who will take care of you? You haven't eaten anything since past few days, and you barely sleep."

Shit. I didn't think she'd notice. My appetite and sleep both had taken a turn for worse, but I had no idea she noticed it.

"I had an apple." I defend myself and she gives me a disappointing look.

"Once, yesterday. It doesn't count."

I don't protest, I open my mouth to let her take care of me. She can have this for now, because I know how it feels to be helpless on the other side. I thought I pushed her too far, but maybe all she needed was a little push.

Just when I thought this could break us apart, I learnt that if we trust each other enough, share an understanding to let our walls down to be the most vulnerable with each other, our love would find a way to mend things, but it alone isn't enough. It never is.

I'm glad I trust her with my entire life and heart, as she does she.

•••

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