"Sarah, sweetheart, don't cry." He hauled her back into his lap.
She didn't resist this time and he held her close, stroked her hair, her back, whispered things she didn't hear, his voice a deep rumble against her as she fell apart.
SARAH'S HEARTBROKEN SOBS DESTROYED ABE. He wanted so much to take away her pain, fix things, but he could do nothing except hold her safe while she splintered into a million pieces.
"I don't know if I can do this," she said after a long time, her voice a thin whisper.
A deep ache in his chest, he cupped the back of her head. "I'll back whatever you decide." That was all he could say, Sarah's pain too violent for any other response.
She didn't answer for a long time. When she did, it was another punch to the gut. "What if my body can't hold on to our baby?"
Abe didn't know how to ease Sarah's hurt, but he couldn't stay silent when the guilt in her voice was a heavy, suffocating blanket. "It wasn't your fault," he said. "You did everything right." He knew that without having been there for her second pregnancy, because during the first, she'd religiously followed all medical advice. "You hear me, Sarah? You did all you could. Some things in life we can't control."
Sarah didn't answer.
It wasn't until maybe an hour later that she stirred. Sliding out of his arms, she left without a word; he wanted to follow, see that she was all right, but he told himself to give her space. She knew he was here, his shoulders ready to help her bear this weight.
She returned after five minutes, having washed her face and redone the knot into which she'd twisted her curls. "We need to work out the logistics."
Abe wasn't surprised by her sudden calm. Sarah had always liked to organize things, had found serenity in ticking off items on a list. Back at the start of their marriage, she used to make lists for what he needed to pack when he went on tour. He'd find the list beside his phone, smile because she'd always add smiley faces next to stern warnings about essentials he couldn't afford to forget if he didn't want to be caught short. Those lists had been for fun anyway--Sarah had ended up packing for him more times than not.
He could still see her standing alone in the doorway, waving good-bye as he left her before that last tour. It would've been easy to convince himself that he didn't know why he'd left her behind rather than bringing her along, but Abe was through with self-deluding lies. He hadn't taken Sarah on tour because she'd meant too much to him. He'd been in no headspace to love anyone as much as he'd loved this sweet, smart, beautiful woman who'd tumbled unexpectedly into his life. So he'd tried to keep her at arm's length.
He'd been a coward and she'd paid the price for his spinelessness.
"I want to be there," he said today. "For the whole deal."
Sarah walked into the kitchen, busied herself chopping up ingredients for a salad. "We can work out visitation for after the baby is--"
"No, Sarah." Having followed her, he took a seat on the stool directly opposite her, only the speckled gray of her counter between them. "I want to be there for the pregnancy too." If she'd made a different decision, he'd have gone with her then too. "The scans and the vitamins and all that shit."
Sarah's knife stopped moving on the carrots she'd cut into teeny, tiny slivers. Huge, dark eyes lifted to his. "What?" Open disbelief.
He didn't look away, didn't flinch. It was time for him to man up and step up. No more hurting her because he was so fucking scared of how much she could hurt him if he let her in. No more being so terrified of losing her to death one day that he'd rather push her away. No more being an asshole who left her alone.
"I want to be there to drive you to the doctor's," he said, "and I want to be there when you find out if it's a boy or a girl." He took a deep breath, his chest shuddering with the force of his emotions. "I might have been a failure as a husband, but please give me the chance to be a good dad."
Sarah blinked really fast, then returned her attention to the pale wood of her chopping board. Scraping the demolished carrot into a bowl, she picked up an orange bell pepper and, slicing it in half, began to clean out the seeds. "What about your music?"
The sharp words bit hard. But Sarah had more than earned the right to demand an answer, demand certain promises. "We're not planning to tour again for at least a year or two, and any other appearances that come up, I'll check first with you to make sure it doesn't clash with baby-related stuff."
Sarah began to cut the bell pepper into thin, rectangular pieces. "The others won't mind? Fox, Noah, David?"
"Hell no." He rubbed his face. "It was never about them, Sarah. You know my behavior was my responsibility."
The magnificent Amazon who was his ex-wife continued to slice the bell pepper, her expression difficult to read. "It's not a short-term commitment, Abe."
Putting down the knife at last, she placed her hands on the counter and took a deep breath. "If... if this baby makes it"--one hand going to her belly--"he or she is going to need you always. Do you understand that? It doesn't matter if life gets hard or if your addictions start howling, or if something horribly sad happens, you still have to be a dad."
She held up a hand when he would've spoken. "I know losing Tessie hurt you. So much." A thickness in her voice. "But what if your mom dies or one of the guys in the band? Would you still be able to maintain?"
Taking a quick breath, she continued. "Because if you can't, if you have even the slightest inkling that you might break, then you need to walk away." No anger in her tone, nothing but a passionate conviction. "I don't want my child exposed to a father who's here one minute, gone the next. I won't have a little boy or girl heartbroken because their daddy disappears for weeks or months at a time."
Abe took the quiet verbal blows without attempting to defend himself. Hell, those blows were far softer than he deserved. "I'll maintain," he vowed. "You can trust me."
No response.
Panic knotted his gut. "Give me the pregnancy to prove myself. That's nine months--"
"Four weeks less," Sarah corrected, a sudden heat in her face as she stole a glance at the counter where they'd come together in naked passion.
Abe's blood pounded. "Right, eight months, give or take." He coughed past the roughness in his throat, damn glad she couldn't see his lower half. Now was not the time to be sporting a rampant cock. "That's two-thirds of a year."
He waited until she met his gaze. "If I prove myself to you in that time, promise me you'll let me be a dad to our baby." He knew he could take her to court, get visitation, but Abe didn't want that. He wanted to be an everyday part of his kid's life, feed their baby a bottle, change a dirty diaper, sing him or her to sleep.
To do that, he'd have to become a part of Sarah's life.
Abe didn't think Sarah had realized that yet. She was thinking only of the baby. But Abe, he'd been thinking of Sarah for a long time. From the way she laughed, to the way she danced, to how she'd looked at him once, before he'd tried his fucking best to snuff out that rare, beautiful light inside her.
"All right," she said slowly. "Let's see how it goes."
It wasn't the most ringing endorsement, but Abe would take what he could get, work with it. This time around, he'd be the man Sarah deserved.
CHAPTER 19
LYING ALONE IN BED THAT NIGHT, Sarah thought of the way Abe had pulled out his phone and made the call for her follow-up appointment with Dr. Snyder. Because of her history, the doctor would be monitoring her closely throughout her pregnancy. He'd also told her he'd be referring her for specialist scans at a far earlier point than he did with most women.
Sarah had no argument with any of it, just wanted her baby safe.
Appointment made, Abe had promised to return at ten the following day to take her to the first visit. Sarah knew that if he kept his word about wanting to be there for everything, the media would sniff them out sooner rather than later. However, the possibility that had horrified her only days ago was no longer her primary concern.
She stroked her belly.
If it meant her baby would have a father, a real father, then she'd suck it up and find a way to weather the harsh glare of fame. "Stay," she whispered to her belly. "Please stay. I promise you I won't ever hurt you. Please don't go."
Her eyes grew hot, her chest agonizingly tight.
Turning over onto her side, she stared out the window she'd left slightly ajar to let in the night breeze. Her bedroom was on the second floor and the window had a security latch, but she couldn't actually fall asleep until she'd closed and locked it. Even after all these years, she still didn't trust the night.
Bad things happened in the night.
Today she had no reason to get up and shut the window, her mind wide awake. Picking up her phone, she went to message Lola to see if her best friend was up, hesitated. She wasn't ready for anyone else to know about this pregnancy, which meant the only person she could talk to was Abe.
She scrolled to his name in her address book, hesitated with her finger hovering over it.
I want to be there for the pregnancy... The scans and the vitamins and all that shit.
Setting her jaw, she decided to take him at his word and made the call. To her surprise, he picked up almost at once. "Sarah? What's wrong?"
She bit down on her lower lip. "I can't sleep."
"Yeah, me either." Abe sounded like he was moving around. "You want to go get ice cream?"
"It's half past eleven at night."
"So?" A verbal shrug. "We live in LA. Someone's gotta be selling ice cream at this hour."
Sarah smiled, the tightness in her chest evaporating under the sudden bubbles of delight. "Why are you breathing so hard?"
"I was doing weights. It keeps the demons at bay."
That he'd said that without hesitation, trusting her with his continuing emotional struggle, threatened to crack the shield around her heart.
Telling herself to be careful, go slow, she said, "If I eat midnight ice cream every day of this pregnancy, I'll get fat."
Certain people might already consider her fat, but Sarah knew she wasn't. She was simply bigger than the current cultural norm--and in Hollywood, that norm was twisted to insane levels of thinness. She had the physique of a toned and healthy woman who could take care of herself--and of her baby. "I need to stay fit, keep my body strong throughout the pregnancy."
"Sarah, honey, you've got nothing to worry about, never have." Abe's response might as well have come with a visual of him rolling his eyes he was clearly doing it so hard. "But," he added as she glared at the phone, "if you want, I'll create an exercise program for you so you can eat midnight ice cream without guilt. Baby-belly friendly."
Sarah turned over onto her back, her stupid heart going all mushy at the affectionate tone of his voice. "Let's go get ice cream."
IT FELT LIKE SNEAKING OUT WHEN she got into Abe's SUV, as if the two of them were doing something naughty. And then she caught a hint of his masculine scent, saw the bulge of his biceps as he put the car into gear, and it definitely felt like she was setting herself up for trouble. She should stop him right now, open her door, and go back inside the house.
She didn't.
Instead, she settled in and said, "I did a search, found an all-night grocer where we can grab ice cream."
"I got something better. Flossie going to be okay?"
And now he was asking about her dog. Next thing she knew, he was going to turn up with an armful of puppies and totally demolish her defenses.
"Happily asleep in her inside bed," Sarah told him even as she fought to keep her mushy heart from overflowing its bounds. "She won't need to go outside till morning now."
Waiting for her gate to close behind the SUV, Abe glanced at the skinny black jeans and red top she'd put on with black heels. "How did you manage to dress so nicely so quickly?"
Sarah's toes curled. "Practice." She'd also done her face in five minutes flat; it was part of her armor, how she survived this world where she was an imposter who didn't have the right background or connections. "You look good too."
Her rock-star ex was wearing blue jeans and boots, but instead of a T-shirt, he'd thrown on a collarless white shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. It was probably designer. When Abe was sober, he liked clothes... and he'd liked buying them for her too. Once, while he'd been on tour, she'd received the most enormous delivery from Chanel.
It had made her feel loved, made her almost forget that he'd left her behind.
"Thanks." His voice merged with the bittersweet memory of the phone call they'd shared that day, her in LA, Abe several states away. "I figured you'd look good so I better not turn up in sweats."
Sarah knew that even if he had, he'd have looked hot. Abe was just generally hot, so any effort at dressing up only took him into uberhot territory. And she should not be noticing that. This new relationship of theirs was about the baby, nothing else. "Where are we going?" she asked, recognizing the street seconds later. "The restaurants along here will all be closed."
"You hear that Florentina Chastain is doing a limited run of midnight dessert sittings?"
Sarah's eyes widened. "No?" She was an acknowledged Scrooge with her money, but the one thing she bought without fail every month was a small box of Chastain's handmade chocolates. "She probably sold out weeks ago." The boutique chocolate and dessert shop had a five-star reputation among the chocoholics and the glitterati.
It was a pity many of the latter just came to see and be seen.
Such a waste of the most exquisite desserts known to mankind.
"This dessert-sitting deal is to support charity," Abe told her. "I rang and promised them twenty grand for a table."
"You just spent twenty grand on dessert?" It came out a squeak.
A shrug. "I have enough money for five lifetimes--and the charity's for feeding hungry kids, so I figure it's worth it."
Sarah went quiet.
"Hey." Abe glanced at her as he slid into a parking space not far from the boutique's storefront; the seating section was in the covered and air-conditioned courtyard in back. "I thought you'd like this, but if--"
Sarah made herself speak. "No, let's go. I'm excited." No lie--she wanted to do this, even if it reminded her too much of her past.
Because she had far more in common with those hungry kids than she did with the no doubt dressed-to-the-nines crowd inside. "How much were the actual tickets?" she asked after they'd exited onto the quiet and otherwise empty sidewalk.
"A grand each, I think."
It took them less than a minute to reach the boutique.
And then slender, striking Florentina Chastain with her dark Cleopatra eyes, pure cream skin, and hair as black as midnight was welcoming them. Dressed in a simple knee-length black skirt that hugged her form without being too tight, a white shirt, and black heels, her hair in a smooth roll at the back of her head, she epitomized effortless sophistication.
"You put me in a tough spot, Mr. Bellamy," she murmured in a soft voice that held the liquid accent of a faraway land. "I couldn't turn down the donation, but my courtyard won't fit another table."
Abe just held out the check he'd snagged from his pocket.
Sighing, the chocolatier took the check and shook her head, but it was with a smile. "Follow me--but first let me give this check to my assistant."
That done, she took them past the glass cases filled with chocolates and other sweet treats, through a door marked Staff Only, and up a flight of stairs so narrow that they had to go single file... only to emerge on a small, square rooftop that would be overshadowed by a nearby building during the day. At night, it had a glorious view of the sky and just enough room for a table for two. That table was draped with a pristine white tablecloth, atop which sat a grouping of white candles in crystal holders that refracted the light into a beautiful pattern of shards.
"Oh." Sarah lifted her hands to her mouth, undone by the sheer romance of the setting.
Abe put his hand on her lower back, rubbed gently. "Better than th
e courtyard?"
She just nodded, though her already mushy heart was threatening to melt. She kept reminding herself that Abe was doing this to support her through the pregnancy, that it was really about the baby. Still, part of her wanted to believe that it wasn't, that it was just as much about her.
Florentina's expression made it clear she was pleased by Sarah's response. "I will return in a moment."
Smiling with the smug satisfaction of a man who knew he'd hit a home run, Abe pulled out her chair. She took it with the surreal sensation of being in a dream--as if one of her beloved romance novels had come to life. Abe had just taken his own seat when Florentina returned.
"We've paired a number of award-winning wines with tonight's dessert-tasting menu," the other woman began.
"No wine," Abe interrupted.
Sarah winced inwardly. She hadn't had the chance to tell Abe that she wanted the pregnancy to be their secret for a while. Until it advanced further, until she knew if their baby was going to stay. If she could, she'd have kept it secret until she held her living, breathing baby in her arms.
But Abe didn't give away her pregnant state. "Alcohol's permanently off the menu for me," he said in a voice that made it a simple fact of life. "Sarah's keeping me company in my sobriety."
Florentina smiled and didn't offer them the little menu in her hand. "In that case, I will accompany your desserts with our most decadent teas. Yes?"
Sarah was a coffee woman and so was Abe, but too much coffee wasn't good for the baby and this was an adventure. "Yes," she answered for them both. "We'd love to try the teas."
The first one that came up was, according to Florentina, "a light, aromatic herbal infusion with a hint of grapefruit and vanilla." Sarah liked it enough to reconsider her coffee-only habit.
Abe looked at it askance before making a face of total martyrdom that had her laughing. Then he threw back half the cup. "Fancy hot water," was his conclusion.
He was far more impressed with the poached pear in a light pomegranate cream that was their first course.
Sarah took a bite, groaned, eyes closing.
She opened them to find Abe staring at her in a way that sent the blood rushing to her cheeks. And not from embarrassment. A little breathless, she took a second bite, bit back the moan this time.