Free Sugar Daddy by Rie Warren Page B

makin’-a-family problems were just one more reason I was the perfect mistress.” The glass slipped from my fingers, shattering on the floor. I couldn’t hold onto it, I hadn’t been able to hold onto her. Ice cubes bounced. I swooped down to clean the mess, but I couldn’t see. Tears spread down my face, and sudden sobs forced me in half.
    Gripping my wrists, wrenching my fingers from my hair, Reardon’s touch unleashed the hysterics I always, alwaysstuffed back inside.
    “Stop, darlin’, you’re going to hurt yourself.”
    The keening ache ripped me apart, tossing me into blackness I’d fought so hard to return from.
    Pulling me into a protective embrace, he rocked me back and forth. “Shay?” He held me through wails I’d never released in front of anyone else. “Sshh …”
    I wound my arms around him and held on, clawing at him for more and closer and touch while pain and panic engulfed me.
    That hole. It wouldn’t shut. It burst open. “She died!”
    “Who?” He shook my shoulders. “Who, damn it?”
    “Delilah. My baby. My daughter.”
    He froze. His face described all the agony I felt. And pity .
    “You wanna make sure you’re protected? Well, y’all don’t have to worry about me gettin’ pregnant because infertility runs in my family as much as infidelity.”
    “Damn it. Goddamn it!” When I flinched, he gentled, capturing my hands. My fingers clambered to his, a solid lifeline. “What happened?”
    Once started, I was helpless to stop. “They said it’d be fine, all I needed was bed rest. I had a rocky first trimester, so with my family history, because there’s my momma...”
    Teardrops destroyed my face faster than Reardon scooped them away. “Your momma?”
    “She couldn’t hold no baby but me. She lost three.” I snagged the tissue from him. “Guess I was the lucky one.”
    “I’m sorr–”
    I slashed my hand across the air. I didn’t want his pity. I didn’t want anything but to get it out and get it over with, get back on track. “They lied . Those assholes lied to me, lied to Palmer. Just like they’d lied to Momma.
    “Things weren’t cushy, but Palmer was doing well enough I could quit my job if we were careful.” I shook all over. “I was so excited when I finally got to wear maternity clothes, when we heard her heartbeat, when she moved inside me. My ankles swelled and my face got puffy and heartburn made sleep impossible, but all of that just made it real.” I remembered the feeling of her growing inside me, it was real. “I probably looked like shit, but I felt like I was glowing.”
    “I bet you were beautiful,” he hushed.
    I chanced a look at his drawn face, his eyes focused on my flat belly where my hands joined protectively. “Don’t say that. You don’t know. You don’t know anything about this.”
    Alarm flared across his irises. “I’m sorry.”
    “Don’t say that!” I turned away. “It was only last year. Five months pregnant.” I locked down, unmoving, unfeeling. “I woke from a nap, napping was what I did, and eating, I did a lot of eating. Cake–that was my weakness. Those frozen Pepperidge Farm cakes. Addy hated my cravings because she says she makes the best pastries. When I woke, I didn’t feel any different, except wet. A twinge, the start of cramps, the sheets were so wet. I stared at my hand, I remember that. It was dark red, sticky.” I gasped through the tears. “I was so scared, Reardon, and no one was there.”
    He pulled me onto his lap. Unable to fight his compassion, I collapsed against him, sobs seizing my body.
    “I guess I called everyone I was supposed to, I don’t really remember. The OB, Palmer. He threw a plank of wood through his windshield after we hung up, someone told me later. I called Momma.”
    Reardon passed a handkerchief over my cheeks. He swiped under his eyes, his mouth grim. He hugged me closer.
    “Hospital and doctors and ultrasounds. Teaching hospital, there were always students in my room,