Misty strode into Sawyer Ellison’s office and pulled the door closed behind her. “Thank you for seeing me again,” she said as she offered her hand to the young detective.
A tight-lipped and irritated-looking Ellison shook her hand and motioned her to a chair. “You said in your phone call that you and Mr. Navarro have been playing spy and have turned up more evidence your brother is innocent. You allege that some mariachi band is involved and that something odd is going on. So let’s hear it.”
So he was cutting to the chase. Fine. So would she. “My main points in a nutshell.” Misty held up her hand with her fingers out. “Kirby was not present the night the first bag of drugs was discovered and hadn’t been for several nights.” She put one of her fingers down. “The locker in which the drugs were found was not secured in any way, shape or form. Anyone could have put drugs in the locker.” She put a second finger down. “On the night Kirby was arrested, Kirby overheard an admonishment to ‘hurry up’ and a locker door slammed. Then he overhears a little drama enacted by three of the band members, Ren Navarro, the Sauceda girl and the Morales boy, to explain their presence in the locker room.” She ticked off another finger.
“So based on this information, you posed as Alex Navarro’s girlfriend and crashed your way into the band?” he asked.
“Yep. Then I was invited to play with them on my own merit as a musician. Alex has gone with me to every gig. Twice as many eyes and ears. And we’ve learned some things. A lot of things, come to think of it.”
“Commendable,” Ellison said sardonically. “Do continue, please.” Was it her imagination, or was he starting to look a bit alarmed?
Misty nodded. “At a Corpus Christi quinceañera we played, a young woman with no prior history of using mysteriously gets her hands on something that night and overdoses. Oddly enough, the authorities mysteriously don’t want to investigate.
“Then the guest of honor at a San Antonio party, again where we’re playing, gets high in front of her politician father and all his guests. Although this young woman does have a history of drug use, she has no handbag with her and is not high until she gets to the party. Again, the investigators refuse to investigate.” She ticked off a fourth finger.
“Last night, in an effort to shake the apple tree a bit, Alex approached the bartender asking to be hooked up with a dealer and the bartender laughed in his face and said that of all people Alex should know who to ask.” She ticked off her last finger.
“Someone in that band’s involved and twice the authorities have refused to investigate. And you blithely insist that you have your guilty party, a young man who isn’t even involved with the band and was at neither of these incidents.” She leaned forward and stared hard at Ellison. “So what the hell is going on and why are the authorities so determined not to find out what?”
Ellison’s face turned red and a vein throbbed in his forehead. She’d rattled him. He was definitely alarmed now and it showed. “Well, Officer?” she said softly. “Can you explain what’s going on?”
Ellison leaned forward and nailed Misty with a glare that would take paint off the wall. “Nothing is going on, Miss Martinez, other than a couple of amateurs chasing their tails. Your brother is as guilty as sin and his little butt is going to jail where it belongs.
“And even if your allegations were worth investigating, which I assure you they’re not, that band could be as guilty as the day is long and that wouldn’t mean your brother is innocent. So I strongly suggest that you and Mr. Navarro stay the hell out of it. Take your Sherlock Holmes routine somewhere else before I have your asses arrested for interfering with an official investigation.”
Misty fixed her face to look disdainfully amused. “Isn’t that going to be rather hard to do since there’s no investigation to speak of? And again, I have to ask myself why, with the kind of evidence a couple of amateurs chasing their tails were able to scare up.” She stood up and nailed Ellison with a glare of her own. “Get up off your ass, Ellison, and investigate that band.”
“You stay the hell out of what’s not your business.” Ellison slapped his palms on his desk. “Go back to your office and write a will or something, and leave well enough alone while you still can.”
Leave well enough alone while I still can? Just what the hell is that supposed to mean? Misty gave Ellison a haughty sniff and left his office, her heels clicking angrily all the way to her car, where a sudden wave of nausea caught her by surprise. She leaned on the steering wheel and breathed deeply a couple of times, not sure if the nausea was a result of her pregnancy or the implied threat in Sawyer Ellison’s parting shot to her.
Had he actually threatened her and Alex? Was he the one blocking investigation of the two overdoses? Was he using his authority to protect someone in that band?
Is Sawyer Ellison crooked?
Misty was beginning to smell a rat.
*****
Misty, Alex and Rolando sat at her kitchen table eating the breakfast tacos Rolando had picked up on the way over. Well, Alex and Rolando wolfed down their tacos while she sipped her coffee and nibbled a mild egg and potato taco and tried not to gag at the smell of the chorizo and bacon concoctions Alex and Rolando were enjoying. She just hoped she could get through breakfast without throwing up. She had to tell Alex about the baby and she had to do it soon, but she didn’t want to do it by losing her breakfast in front of him.
“So Ellison not only refuses to investigate the band and continues to insist on Kirby’s guilt, he actually told you to leave well enough alone while you still could? Dios, that sounds like a threat to me.” Rolando’s eyes glittered indignantly.
“Yes, but just what was he threatening?” Alex asked tiredly. His eyes were bloodshot and his hands were trembling, and Misty bet he’d spent the better part of the evening before in the company of Jack Daniels or Jim Beam. “That could be taken either as him threatening to arrest us, which is foolishness because we aren’t breaking the law, or that we are somehow putting ourselves in danger.”
“Danger from him or danger from someone else?” Rolando mused.
“Does it really matter?” Alex asked.
“It might be the difference between a nuisance arrest and a bullet in your head,” Rolando said dryly.
“Either way I don’t like it,” Misty said as Rolando unwrapped another taco and her stomach turned another flip. “He’s using his authority to cover something up, and my bet is that he’s protecting the dealers themselves. Wouldn’t be the first cop on the take. So what do we do next?”
“Exactly what we were going to do anyway. I tell Ren I’m looking to buy and we see what happens. Only if Ren takes the bait we turn over the evidence to the DEA and leave the presumably corrupt police department out of it.” Alex ran a shaking hand through his hair. “Jesus. My own cousin, a drug dealer.”
Misty had a sudden thought. “Will your father and uncle try to cover for him? They have the power to do that if they choose.”
“Mijita, no. Ernest Navarro may be many things, ruthless being one of them, but he is an honorable man. He will not let my innocent son go to jail to protect one of his own who’s guilty.” Rolando swallowed the rest of his taco. “Let me know what happens with Ren.” He washed down his food with coffee and was out the front door.
“It’s kind of sad, really. He’s trying so hard to save Kirby. He sure as hell wouldn’t have tried like this if it had been me in trouble.”
“You don’t know that.”
“The hell I don’t.”
Alex eyed the last taco in the box. “You want it?”
“God, no. Knock yourself out.”
Alex unwrapped the taco, a particularly garlicky and oniony chorizo and egg concoction. He eyed it for a moment and shook his head. “I’ll pass. Here, you go ahead.” He shoved the aromatic taco across the table and right under Misty’s nose.
The mingling aroma of the onion and garlic was just too much. Misty felt her stomach lurch and jumped to her feet, running for the bathroom, making it just in the nick of time. Spent and more than a little dizzy, she clutched the side of the vanity and groped for a towel and gasped when Alex held a warm wet washcloth to her face. He lowered the lid and pushed her down to sit on the toilet, wiping her face and handing her a glass of water.
Misty grasped the glass of water and sipped gently. “Better?” Alex asked tightly as she handed him the glass.
Misty nodded. “I think I’ll be okay. I’ll sit on the sofa until this passes completely.”
Alex nodded and helped her to the sofa. “Can I get you anything else? Maybe a little sparkling water?” He stared at her without expression.
“Please, no. I can’t stomach the stuff at the moment.”
Alex sat down across from her and clasped shaking hands in front of him. “So is this a tummy bug or what I think it is?” He looked at her, his bloodshot eyes begging her not to confirm his worst fear.
Misty had no choice but to tell him the truth. “It’s pretty much what you think it is. We were so hammered that night in Corpus Christi we forgot about protection.”
Misty watched Alex collapse in on himself. “Damn. I thought you were protected. You’re not on the pill?”
Misty lifted her chin. “Not since the assault, no. I didn’t have any in the hospital and I just never went back on them. And I won’t point my finger and blame you if you don’t point your finger and blame me.”
“Whatever.”
Misty leaned forward. “I could say I’m sorry. I am sorry that you’re involved when it wasn’t your choice to be, but I’m not sorry I’m having a baby. I’ve wanted a child all my life and apparently in a strange turn of events the universe has seen fit to send me one.”
Please, Alex. Please say you want this baby too.
“Well, I am. I’m damned sorry. I don’t want this pregnancy and I sure don’t want this baby.” He stared dully at Misty. “I don’t want to be any part of this whole thing.”
Misty felt herself rear back as though she had been slapped and she felt her face start to turn red. “You don’t, huh? You don’t want this baby?” She stood up, her eyes sparking ire. “Why not? This one not good enough for you?”
Alex stared at her, stone faced. “This isn’t the way it was supposed to be.”
“I guess it’s not, in your pinched little universe.” She glared at him. “This one’s not by your huera beauty, is it?”
“No, it isn’t,” Alex said quietly. “I was supposed to have a child with the woman I love. I don’t love you and I can’t love that child the way I would have loved Leigh Anne’s.”
“I get it that you don’t love me and you never will, but a little baby? An innocent little baby? You don’t think you can love your own child, just because I’m having it and not Leigh Anne?”
“No, I can’t. I just can’t love this one the way I would have loved her child.”
“Then you don’t have to love it at all.” Misty made no attempt to disguise her contempt. “And you sure as hell don’t have to be part of this baby’s life. Not at all. You don’t have to be part of the miracle of its birth. You don’t have to feel its little arms around your neck or hear it call you Daddy. You don’t have to read it a story or take it to the park or teach it how to drive a car. You don’t even have to pay child support. You can walk out of here right now and never see me again after this shit with Kirby is over. And someday, when your little one asks me about their father, I’ll tell them that you were a chicken shit who’d rather pine over your dead child than love your living one. That you were too stupid to take life up on a second chance at being a father. That you weren’t strong enough or brave enough to be a dad.” Misty stopped and took a breath. “So to put it bluntly, to hell with you, Alex Navarro. To hell with you and your cowardice and your self-serving grief. You’re not man enough to be the father of my child. So get out. Now. I have a child to raise by myself.”
Alex stared at her wordlessly before shouldering past her and leaving. Misty sat back down on the sofa. She felt the nausea coming back but stayed put, figuring she had nothing left to vomit, and sat listlessly for a few minutes while she replayed the scene with Alex in her head. She had been harsh. She said some things that were downright cruel. But to reject his child outright? To say he didn’t want his own child? Grief or no, how could he do such a thing?
She wiped the tears that had spilled out. In spite of her better judgment, a part of her had hoped that Alex would be happy about his baby and would be willing to love the child even if he wasn’t willing to love her. But she should have known better. This baby couldn’t have any more taken the place of his lost son than she could take the place of his beloved Leigh Anne. Disappointed, but not surprised.
Misty fired off a quick text to Caroline.
Alex knows. Not good.
She took a shower and was putting the finishing touches on her makeup when her phone chimed with Caroline’s ringtone. “So you finally told him,” Caroline said without preamble.
“No, I lost my breakfast in front of him and he figured it out.”
“Well, did he get mad that you’d waited so long to tell him?”
Misty sighed. “He didn’t even care. He didn’t say a word about that, and he didn’t he ask me when the baby was due.”
“So what did he say?”
“That he didn’t want any part of the pregnancy or the baby. That he didn’t want any part of the whole thing.”
“Ouch. Did he say why?”
“He said he didn’t love me and that he couldn’t love this child the way he would have loved Leigh Anne’s baby.”
Caroline whistled. “That makes me mad just hearing it. And I suppose you told him off?”
“Big-time. I said some unkind things, but if I had it to do over I’d say the same damned words. He’d rather wallow in the past with his dead child than move forward with his living one, and I told him just what I thought of that.”
“Hmm. So he just found out this morning? How was he feeling when he got the big news?”
“Hung over as all get-out, if his bloodshot eyes and shaking hands were anything to go by.”
“And he probably had the headache from hell to go with it. You can’t expect him to react decently after being blindsided when he’s in that condition. Why don’t you give him some time to think about it before you condemn him outright? Not only has he had no time to get used to the idea, but he’s coming at the pregnancy from a whole different perspective than you are.”
“I can do that. By the doctor’s little chart, I can give him six months and two weeks, more or less. But I don’t think it’s going to do any good, Caroline. I could give him the rest of his life and he’s not going to want the baby he fathered by the wrong woman.”
“Maybe, maybe not. But give the man a chance to come around. Don’t shut down the lines of communication.”
“I won’t, Caroline. I promise.”
And she wouldn’t. She would talk to Alex again when he’d had time to process the news and think about the child they had conceived together. And she would keep the lines of communication open, hoping for a change of heart.
But she doubted it would do her any good.
*****
Alex leaned against the bar and listened as Los Muchachos Ochos played the last number of their first set. They were due to play twice tonight, which would make it after eleven before they got out of the club. Thankfully tomorrow was Saturday and Misty wouldn’t have to get up at the crack of dawn and go into work.
Now that he knew she was pregnant, he wondered how he had missed the signs.
She had become choosy in what she ate, she was bone-tired all the time, and her breasts in the tight-fitting charro suit were definitely larger. For that matter, her breasts had changed between Corpus Christi and Verde; they had become fuller and even more luscious. But it hadn’t occurred to him to wonder why.
He’d thought her gorgeous from the moment he’d laid eyes on her years ago, but now she was absolutely glowing and was more beautiful than she’d been before. But she was tired and obviously suffering from morning sickness. Hopefully she could sleep in and catch up on her rest a little, and when she did wake up he would cook her something her dicey stomach could tolerate.
She would probably object to his coming over; she’d been as cold as ice all evening and he supposed he really couldn’t blame her, but that was just too bad. He really didn’t care if she objected. She needed to take better care of herself, and as the baby’s father it was his job to see that she did.
Not that he was thrilled about the pregnancy or the coming baby—far from it. He still wasn’t sure he wanted this child. He wasn’t sure he wanted any child that he and Leigh Anne hadn’t made together, but in the two days since Misty told him about the baby, he had done some serious thinking about the situation and decided that whether he wanted this child or not, he had a responsibility to the baby and to its mother. Plus, this baby was a Navarro, and deserved to be acknowledged as such. He and Misty needed to talk about what that meant.
But first they had a drug dealer to finger.
The band finished its first set and the band members wandered off to use the restroom and get a drink. Alex waited until he spotted Ren by himself in the break room before sitting beside him. “Got a favor to ask,” he said softly to Ren.
“So ask.”
“I’m looking to buy. Know anybody willing to sell to me?”
Ren’s face froze. “Buy what?”
“You know what.”
Ren looked at Alex like he’d grown a second head. “You have got to be kidding,” he hissed through clenched teeth. “You don’t act like that.”
“And you know that because?”
“Oh, for God’s sake, Alex. You’re already falling in the bottle. Why do you want to add that shit on top of it?” Ren was doing a creditable job of appearing horrified.
“Do I need a reason? Not that I don’t have one, thanks to that bastard who killed my wife.” Quit arguing and take the bait, Ren. Unless it isn’t really you that’s dealing.
“You don’t have a reason. You don’t even have a decent excuse. Get a grip and stay away from that shit.” A furious-looking Ren abruptly pushed himself away from the table and stalked out of the break room.
Well, hell. Either Ren was the best actor this side of Broadway or he wasn’t involved. And wouldn’t that be something, as sure as he and Misty had been that Ren was at least one of the guilty parties?
Alex listened with half an ear to the band play their second set and wondered what he and Misty should do next. If the bartender wasn’t willing to stick his neck out and give him a name and Ren wasn’t involved, then what rock did they look under next? Who the hell was the bartender referring to when he’d laughed at Alex’s request?
He and Misty were halfway to the car before the sidewalk was deserted enough for them to talk. “I approached Ren during the break.”
“And?”
“He not only wouldn’t give me a name, he told me to stay away from that shit. He’s either the best actor in San Antonio or he’s not involved.”
“Lovely,” she said dryly. “So where do we go from here?”
“Damned if I know.”
The parking garage was dark and Alex almost missed the tiny scrap of paper wedged under the windshield wiper. “What the hell?” he asked as he carefully extracted the little folded square. They got in the car and he turned on the overhead light. “Well, will you lookie here,” he said as he showed her the phone number scrawled across the paper.
Misty stared at the number. “Somebody took the bait.” She picked up her purse and unearthed a pair of tweezers. “Here, handle it with these. There may be fingerprints on it.”
Alex felt his lips thin as he took the tweezers from her. “Ren took the bait, you mean. Damn it, when he protested, I thought he wasn’t involved after all.”
“I guess the big protest was just for show. He has to be the source.” She looked over at him. “Alex, I’m sorry.”
“So am I. I’m sorry and I’m disappointed. Jesus, Ren’s a Navarro, the same as I am. Why did he have to go and mix himself up in that kind of crap?”
“God only knows. I’ll call Dad and let him know what happened tonight. We can talk with him tomorrow and decide where to go from here.”
She put a quick call into Rolando, who said he’d come over later the next morning to discuss their next step.
They drove to her house in silence and he followed her inside. “What do you want?” she huffed when he went in the kitchen and peered in the refrigerator. “Besides that,” she added when he found a cold bottle of Pinot Grigio in the back.
“We need to talk again, now that I’ve had time to think. But before we do that, what do you think your stomach will tolerate in the morning? I can swing by someplace and get breakfast for the three of us.” Alex found a corkscrew and dealt with the wine, pouring himself a generous glass. “What can I get you?”
“Just tap water. And you don’t have to bring breakfast. Dad usually brings tacos or something.”
“And that went over so well when he was here last time. What can you eat?”
“I would kill for some decent pan dulce and fruit.”
“Then pan dulce and fruit it is. And not just tomorrow morning. You need to take better care of yourself now that you’re pregnant. I can bring you breakfast in the mornings until you feel better.”
“And why would you want to do that?” She plopped down at the kitchen table. “You don’t want any part of me, the pregnancy or the baby.”
Alex paused. Why did he want to do that? “Well, that is my child you’re carrying and I want you both to be all right.” He sat down at the table across from her and took a sip of his wine.
“Oh. I thought from the talk we had the other morning you’d just as soon we disappeared into that crack in the floor over there.”
“I never said any such thing.” He was irritated and saw no reason to hide it. “Forgive me if in my obviously hung-over state I was both honest and blunt. Not that you weren’t.”
“Yes, we both were honest and blunt. So why are you suddenly concerned about our welfare? Why this sudden change of heart?”
His conscience ached at the hopeful expression on her face. Should he tell her he loved her and wanted this baby after all? That would be the easy thing to do. But Misty wasn’t a stupid woman and she would see through him sooner than later, and that would make things worse. No, better to be honest up front. “I haven’t had a change of heart. Not really.” He sighed as her face fell. “Look, I don’t know what I feel right now. I just know that I don’t want something to happen to either of you because I didn’t take care of you like I should have.”
“Whoopee, just what I’ve always wanted to be. An unwanted responsibility. What are you going to do next? Offer to marry me?” He cringed at the bitterness in her tone.
“Yes, actually. That is my child and even if I don’t quite know how I feel about the baby or you, I have a responsibility to the both of you. It’s my responsibility to take care of you and take care of the baby, and yes, part of that responsibility is to give that child my name and all the privileges that go with being a Navarro. So yes, I intend to marry you. In fact, I’m going to be quite insistent about that.”
He stared across the table. She appeared to be thinking something through and he sensed that he needed to give her time to do that.
“You know, if I honestly thought you loved the baby, or even that you would eventually learn to love the baby, I would take you up on your offer so fast that it would make your head swim, never mind the fact that you don’t love me and that you never will. But since I know you don’t love this baby and probably never will, I’m going to have to turn you down. I don’t care how insistent you are, I’m going to turn you down point-blank and tell you that marrying you under these circumstances is the last thing I want for both of us.” She rested her hand over her stomach. “But thank you for asking.”
He stared at her, dumbfounded. “What do you mean, it’s the last thing you want for you and the baby? Two mornings ago you were infuriated that I didn’t want to have anything to do with the whole thing, and now I’m offering to marry you and take care of you and the child and you’re turning me down?” Indignant didn’t cover how he felt. “Care to tell me why?”
She sat back and he saw a sad wistfulness cross over her face. “Because this baby deserves to be more than just a responsibility. I’ve gone over our discussion the other morning in my head any number of times and I’ve heard you again tonight. Although you’re offering to do your duty, your heart’s still not in it. You say you ‘don’t know’ how you feel about this baby, but I think you do. This baby might be yours, but in your mind it’s a second-best baby, because Leigh Anne’s not its mother. Right?”
He gulped. She’d nailed it. “But that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t be good to the baby or take care of it.”
“I’m sure you would. But it’s not enough. No, hear me out,” Misty added when he opened his mouth to argue. “I know you’re probably thinking I’m being ridiculous, but because of my parental history, I refuse to let this baby be second best, to anyone, but especially to its father. I spent too damn much time feeling second best and I’ll be damned if this little one will know that feeling. Ever.”
Okay. Something more was driving Misty than just what was going on with them. “So tell me. Why did you feel second best? What did your parents do to make you feel that way?”
“Neither one ever put me first in their life or their affections. I was the result of a young and foolish student teacher’s escapade with one of her good-looking football playing seniors and was not wanted by either parent.”
Alex couldn’t help it—his mouth dropped open. “Your father got it on with his student teacher? Your mother slept with a boy in her class?”
Misty shrugged. “It happens. In those days you got married and so they did, but needless to say the marriage didn’t last. After the divorce they both put me on the back burner, and while they were kind to me—at least Mama and Papa Pete were—I never came first with either of them. Mama and Papa Pete preferred smuggling refugees across the border to spending time raising Maggie and me, and my father was so absorbed in the son by the wife he actually loved that I barely saw him after Kirby was born.
“So, yeah, I have an issue with the fact that in your mind this child is, and always will be, second in your heart to the son you lost. I can’t live with that, Alex. I cannot and will not do that to this child.” She looked at him with deep sadness in her eyes. “I would rather he or she has no father at all than have a father who will make that child feel like my parents did me.” She wiped a tear off her cheek and looked him in the eye. “This baby will not be made to feel like I did. This baby will be second to none, and he or she is going to know it.”
Alex sat back in his chair, pole-axed. Sure, he’d known she had issues with her father, but to feel like she came second to both of her parents? He thought of the love and the devotion lavished on him as a child, and how his parents, his mother in particular, made sure that he and Lalo knew they were first and foremost in importance.
Misty had never had that kind of love, and he understood completely why she would insist that her child come first to him and that he love her child in a way that she hadn’t been.
He also knew that he was incapable of what she needed. He would never love her the way he loved Leigh Anne. He would never love this baby the way he would have loved Leigh Anne’s.
And admitting the horrible truth to himself just about tore him apart.
Alex felt the tears gathering in his eyes. “Damn it, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” He picked up the wine and downed the rest of the glass in a single gulp. “I understand why you feel the way you do. And you’re right. Your baby does deserve to be second to none. And I wish I could give him or her that. I wish I could love this baby the way I loved the other one. Hell, I wish I could love you the way you deserve to be loved. But I can’t. I just can’t.”
He had to get out of there before he broke down in front of her. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
Uncaring of what she might think, he practically ran out the door and made it as far as the car before he broke down completely, deep sobs ripping through his body as he leaned on the steering wheel and cried like a baby.
Misty was right. He was blowing it. He had been given a second chance at love and fatherhood on a silver platter and he was blowing it royally. He cried for long minutes, sobbing his heart out for the woman and the child he’d lost, and for the woman and the child he’d just walked away from.
As much as he wanted to, he knew deep in his heart he’d never love Misty or any other woman the way he’d loved Leigh Anne, and he’d never love another child the way he would have loved the son he’d lost.
*****
Misty sat at the kitchen table and stared down at the wine glass, her heart shattering into a thousand pieces as Alex’s anguished words echoed in her ears. He wanted to love her and the baby, he really wanted to, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t love them as much as he’d loved Leigh Anne and her child. And that cut deep.
Not wanting to love them would have been one thing. But wanting to love them and yet couldn’t? That was beyond hopeless.
Tears gathered. Well, she’d gone and done it, she thought as she let the tears overflow and wet her cheeks. She’d fallen in love with him. She’d probably loved him for a while now, but seeing his tears and anguish as he had apologized for his feelings cemented it for her.
She had fallen in love, deeply in love with the tortured, grief-stricken Alex Navarro, a man so in love with his late wife that he wanted to love again and couldn’t.
Misty kicked off her shoes and shucked her charro jacket and lay down on the sofa. So what now? After hearing what she had tonight, did she take him up on his offer of marriage anyway? Did she go ahead and marry him, knowing he would never love her and the baby?
Ah, no. If it were just them, things would be different. She would give him all the time and love he needed and marry him if he asked her to, and if he never came to love her the way she wanted him to, then she would live with being second place in his life. If it was just her, loving Alex would have been enough.
But the baby changed everything. She might have taken second place for herself, but she couldn’t do that to the baby. And with him unable to love the baby, there was no future for them.
And that was a shame. A heartbreaking, crying shame.
If things had been different, if Alex could have found it in his heart to love them, they could have been happy together.