Free A Lasting Love by Mary Tate Engels

that
medical term, but at least she could say it now. She had been alone
and shed many tears over this.
    "Abortion! My God, Loren, how in hell could you?" He
grabbed her arms with such a forceful grip that, for a moment,
Loren feared his strength.
    Angel stood in the doorway, switching her tail and
me-owing.
     
    Chapter Five
     
    Loren tried to wrench free from Reid's powerful
grasp, but found herself lifted almost nose-to-nose with him. She
could feel his steady breath falling evenly on her face, while hers
was an irregular rasping that caught in her throat. Her immediate
fear of his masculine strength was replaced with cool anger. Reid
wouldn't dare hurt her. Through clenched teeth Loren muttered, "I
was all alone here in Washington. You were out in God-knows-where,
Arizona, getting ready for your big wedding when I had the
miscarriage. It didn’t seem to be the right time."
    Reid shook her slightly, his breath hot on her face.
"Miscarriage . . . abortion—which was it? Your choice of words is
confusing."
    "What difference does it make?" Her voice was grating
and hard. "You weren't here, didn't care what happened to me. Or
our child."
    His ebony eyes cut into her, and he clamped his jaw
tightly. A muscle flexed across the dark cheek as Reid shoved her
roughly from him. Fury raged through him, affecting his formerly
even breathing. "Of course, I care. Cared," he retorted. "Oh,
Loren, how can you say that? You act as though you don't know me at
all, when you actually know me better than any woman ever has. I .
. . loved you. I trusted you."
    Her hands rubbed the throbbing forearms where
he had gripped her. "Trust?" she stormed. "We don't
know each other at all now."
    "I can tell you this. If only I had known, if
you had told me you were pregnant, I would have been
here, by your side, immediately. "
    Loren's voice countered coldly, left that way
from too many tears shed alone over the years. "No one
could have prevented what happened, Reid. Even if you
had been here . . . and cared. I told you that I
miscarried, aborted naturally. I wouldn't have an abortion. Couldn 't! Surely you realize
that."
    He turned to her, crumbling inside at her
words. "Mis carriage?" The full implications rocked
through him. "Loren, Loren, honey, I'm sorry. So
sorry." Suddenly his voice was shaky, and he attempted
to take her in his arms. He craved to comfort her, to
hold her. But it was too late. She was stiff and cold in
response.
    "I wish to God I had been here
with you. More than ever, mi amor. "
    Loren quivered inside at the sound of the old
affection ate phrase. With effort she pushed his arms
from her. "Please, don't, Reid. It's over now. Long
time over."
    Then another thought struck him. "What if . . .
what if you had been able to carry my child, Loren?
Would you ever have let me know? My own
child!" His broad chest heaved with emotion, and he
struggled to keep from touching her.
    A vengeful smile curled Loren's lips, and she
folded her arms across soft breasts. "Oh, you bet! I
would have slapped you with a paternity suit so
quickly! What a lovely wedding present that would have
made!"
    He sighed heavily as his hands knotted into
impotent fists. "I wish you had, Loren. Oh, God, I
wish you had."
    Loren watched him carefully, almost
vindictively. After all, she had been through a lot of
hell because of him. Because of him? Was
that entirely fair? She had been a willing lover. Now he was saying
he wished he had known about her tragedy. Their
tragedy. He would have been here. Helped ... shared
... comforted. Should she believe him? She tried to explain,
feeling that he deserved to know.
    "It all happened so fast. I was having some physical
problems, which is why I stopped taking the pill. By the time I
realized that I was actually pregnant, my condition had worsened. I
thought my physical problems were emotional, caused by our
separation. There was nothing to be done to prevent the
miscarriage. The doctor assured me it was for the best. At the