this…
She hated her body for betraying her. Why couldn’t it co-operate with her dearest wish? And how was she going to tell Bryce they had failed again?
A wave of sickening depression rolled through her. It made no sense that she hadn’t conceived when they’d been making love every night. Over and over again she had lain in Bryce’s arms, smiling, wondering if it was happening…the miracle of life beginning. Happy dreams…
Except they weren’t coming true!
Feeling totally wretched, Sunny walked slowly back to the office Bryce had set up for her in the Los Angeles headquarters of Templar Resources. It was a wonderful office. Normally it gave her pleasure to enter this room, knowing Bryce had every confidence in her ability to carry off her new position as head of sales presentations, advising the team under her and monitoring their results. She had enjoyed the challenge of being in charge.
But she wasn’t in charge of her body.
The fear of being infertile started hovering. She sat down at her desk and stared blankly at the printout of figures in front of her. Her womb ached with the draining of hope. It was impossible to concentrate on work. All she could think of was not measuring up to motherhood.
If there was something wrong with her…if she couldn’t have a baby…what was this marriage worth? She loved Bryce with all her heart, but if she couldn’t give him a child…it just wouldn’t be right to even try to hang on to him. He wanted children, and not only to satisfy his father.
As it was, time was slipping away on giving his father a grandchild. Would Bryce start thinking Kristen Parrish might have been the better choice of wife? Sunny shuddered at the unbearable thought. He was her man, her husband. Yet if she couldn’t deliver what he wanted…and he had spelled it out before he’d married her…
A hasty marriage.
Repent at leisure.
The words were coming back to haunt her now.
They should have waited. She should have had tests done first. No doubt Bryce would have insisted on tests during his premarital wrangle with his first choice of wife. Sunny couldn’t bring herself to question his potency. She was sure it was beyond question. The fault had to lie with her.
Somehow she dragged herself through the rest of the working day, though she did cancel a meeting she’d scheduled, too aware of not being able to give her best to it. Her head was pounding by the time Bryce came by her office to collect her for the trip home. She looked at him—this man amongst men—and it was totally heart-ravaging to think she couldn’t give him the progeny he deserved.
‘Something wrong?’ he asked, frowning at her, the perceptive green eyes sharply scanning.
She grimaced. ‘Raging headache.’
‘Have you taken some pain-killers for it?’
‘Yes.’
‘Let’s get you home then. You don’t look at all well.’ He took her bag from her, ushered her out of the office, then tucked her arm around his, keeping her close to him for support on the walk to the basement car park. ‘Do you suffer from migraines, Sunny?’ he asked gently.
‘Not as a rule,’ she muttered, feeling horribly guilty for letting his sympathy flow over her instead of telling him the cause of her pain.
‘I guess you don’t feel like talking,’ he said, his understanding making the guilt even worse.
She had to tell him. He had the right to know. It couldn’t be hidden anyhow. Sheer misery made her hold her tongue until they were in his car and heading for home, but her sense of fairness forced her to speak at the first long traffic stoppage on the freeway.
‘I’ve got my period again,’ she blurted out.
She sensed more than saw his head jerk towards her. Her own gaze was fixed on the road ahead. Her hands were clenched in her lap. She could barely stop herself from bursting into tears.
Then a big warm hand covered hers. ‘I’m sorry, Sunny,’ came the soft, gruff words. ‘I know how much you were counting on being pregnant this time.’
The tears welled and spilled over. She had to bite her lips against breaking into sobs. Speech was impossible. The traffic started moving again and Bryce returned his hand to the driving wheel. She heard him heave a deep sigh and that was the worst thing of all…knowing how he must be feeling now.
Overlooking her first failure was one thing. They’d only been married two weeks and the contraceptive pills she’d been using might have messed up any chance of getting pregnant. There simply wasn’t any reason for failing this month. If she was fertile, there should be a baby growing inside her right now. Bryce had to know that as certainly as she did.
She swiped the stream of tears from her cheeks and leaned forward, fumbling in the bag at her feet for some tissues. Her make-up was probably running everywhere. Not only was she a mess inside, she was fast becoming a mess outside, as well. She grabbed the little packet of tissues she always carried with her and sat back again, removing a couple to mop up her face.
‘Please don’t take it so much to heart, Sunny,’ Bryce said quietly. ‘It’s not unusual for many couples to try for months before…’
‘We’re not just any couple!’ she cried. ‘You know we’re not.’
He sighed again.
She closed her eyes and willed the tears to dry up.
‘I’m sorry,’ Bryce murmured. ‘If you’re worrying about my father…I just wish you’d stop. I hate seeing you in this state.’
She took a deep breath, trying to ease the tightness in her chest. Nothing could ease the pain in her heart. She understood that Bryce didn’t want to see her weeping. Men were invariably uncomfortable with displays of deep emotional stress. Apart from which, he undoubtedly had his own inner dismay to deal with. He’d married her to have a child, the child was not forthcoming, and it was certainly not from any slack performance on his part.
Sunny had no idea how long it took to drive to their home in Santa Monica. Bryce remained silent and her mind was in a total ferment. Only the rolling open of the garage door, triggered by the remote device in the car, alerted her to the fact that the journey was over and facing up to the situation with Bryce was now imminent.
Her legs were hopelessly shaky as she walked ahead of him along the short hallway that led from the garage to the space-age kitchen with its gleaming stainless steel surfaces. Her churning stomach refuted any idea of food. Preparing any dinner for them was beyond her tonight. She went past the kitchen, wishing she could make a bolt for the staircase and a bed where she could curl up and quietly die, but there really was no hiding place.
‘Sunny…’
The concern and soft appeal in Bryce’s voice forced her to stop halfway across the open-plan living area. She took a deep breath, straightened her spine, and swung to look back at him. He’d halted by the kitchen serving bench. He gestured towards the refrigerator.
‘Can I get you anything?’
Her heart turned over. He wanted to do something for her…help…but there was no help for this.
‘A cup of tea?’ he suggested, knowing she preferred it to coffee.
‘Do you know where I should go to have a fertility test, Bryce?’ she asked, determined on not evading the issue.
‘Yes, but…’ He looked pained by the question.
‘I’ll go next week. If it turns out that I’m…I’m barren…’ What a terrible word that was, so redolent of empty devastation!
‘You don’t need to put yourself through this, Sunny,’ he protested.
‘Yes, I do. Both of us need to know if I can or can’t have a baby.’
He