Free Baby, Come Back by Erica Spindler

that the way you felt, Alice? About our child?”
    And about you. And Jeff. She squeezed her eyes shut, recalling her dizzying hope and happiness, then her utter despair. In one fell swoop, she had lost everything.
    â€œIs it, Alice?”
    She opened her eyes; she knew they were glassy with tears. “Yes.”
    â€œI’m sorry, Alice. I’m so sorry.” He moved his fingers over her hands, stroking, caressing. “I didn’t realize. I didn’t know how much...the baby meant to you.”
    It took a moment for his words, their meaning, to sink in, but when they did anger took her breath. “Because it meant nothing to you! When I got pregnant, all you felt was trapped. You agreed to marry me because that was the honorable and manly thing to do. But you never wanted me and you never wanted our baby.” She yanked her hands from his grasp and stood. “Now, excuse me. I have things to do.”
    Tears flooding her eyes, she started for the door, moving blindly between the tables and patrons, praying she could keep from humiliating herself until she made it outside.
    She cleared the front door, and the tears spilled over. The cold stung her wet cheeks, and she realized she’d left her sweater inside. She’d sooner die than go back for it and have Hayes see her this way, she thought. Maggie would save it for her.
    Hugging herself, she hurried across the porch and down the steps to the parking lot. She reached her car and fumbled in her purse for the keys, coming up empty-handed.
    Her keys were in her sweater pocket. Damn.
    She sagged against the car. She couldn’t go back in there. She couldn’t face Hayes. She—
    â€œYou forgot this.”
    He’d followed her. Alice brushed the tears from her cheeks, then turned. She took the sweater from his outstretched hand, not meeting his eyes. She didn’t think she could bear to see the pity in them.
    â€œThanks,” she murmured, her voice still thick with tears. She dipped her fingers into the pocket, found her keys and pulled them out. “I guess I’d better— ”
    He covered her hand with his. “I’m sorry, Alice.”
    â€œOur relationship didn’t work out,” she said stiffly. “That’s life. There’s nothing for you to be sorry about. I don’t want your apologies or your pity.” She slipped her hand from his. “Just leave me alone.”
    â€œI wasn’t referring to our relationship.” He turned her gently to face him. “I’m sorry we lost the baby.”
    She drew in a shuddering breath, her eyes welling with tears again. She fought them spilling over. “Right. I really believe that, Hayes.”
    â€œYou should. Because I am truly sorry.” He slid his hands up to her shoulders. “I didn’t want the baby the same way you did. I couldn’t, don’t you see? We were so different, and at such different places in our lives. But the baby was mine. Ours. It was alive, growing. A part of my life already, even if only for a few months.”
    Alice battled to breathe evenly. The pain balled in her chest, her throat. Twelve years ago they’d hardly spoken about the miscarriage; now, all these years later, it felt as if it had just happened. As if she were alone in that antiseptic hospital room, stripped bare of all her dreams.
    â€œIt...hurt...so much.”
    Her breath caught on a sob, and he drew her against his chest. “I know, sweetheart. I know now.”
    She slipped her arms around him, holding tightly, sobbing against his shoulder. “I wanted her more than...anything. She was mine. She was inside me. Growing. A part of me.”
    For a long time she cried, until she didn’t have any tears left. But still he held her, murmuring sounds of comfort, gently rocking. The heat of his body warmed her. The scent of him seeped into her consciousness until it filled her senses. Beneath her hands, she became