[REBECCA]
My shoulders slumped, regret filling my voice. “I know. I’m sorry, Lynda. Sorry that he turned out to be a traitor.”
Lynda shook her head, her tears streaming down. “No. I lost him. I lost… my baby.”
The words were heavy with emotion, whispered yet piercingly clear. Lynda’s knees buckled, and she sank to the floor in silence. Curled up, she clutched her stomach, sobs wracking her body.
The weight of her confession hung in the air: “I lost… my baby.”
I gazed at Lynda, my voice rendered powerless by the surge of emotions that washed over me. The cadence of my heart faltered, and a sudden tremor weakened my knees. A reflexive gesture brought my hand to my abdomen, cradling the delicate swell where new life was blossoming.
Lynda, pregnant? The revelation hung in the air, an unspoken question heavy with its implications.
Tears blurred my sight as her anguished sobs reverberated in the depths of my being. Her words echoed ceaselessly in my ears, each syllable etching a profound mark on my soul.
My gaze returned to Lynda, her anguish a palpable presence that gnawed at my heart. The ache for her radiated from within me, the mere thought of losing my own precious child an abyss of unimaginable despair.
At that instant, a tender flutter broke the heaviness, and my hand naturally cupped the life growing beneath my touch.
“He shot me… he actually shot me… and stole my baby’s life. How could he? Why?” Lynda’s cries echoed, a lament that pierced the air.
Closing the distance, I endeavored to kneel beside her, the effort overcoming the emotional turmoil. Eventually, I settled next to her, arms encircling her quivering form, pulling her close to mine.
Lynda buried her tear-streaked face in the curve of my neck, her weeping an unrestrained cascade. “He took… my baby…”
Understanding the depth of Milandro’s actions, though not the full extent of the devastation, a sense of shared grief connected us. He had extinguished their own flesh and blood.
My arms tightened, cocooning Lynda as our collective tears mingled. Her anguish seeped into my very pores, as if her agony was a reflection of my own.
“I’m here, Lynda. I’m so terribly sorry,” I murmured, words inadequate yet sincere, the only solace I could offer. Her loss was a chasm beyond words’ reach.
“They were the only words I could summon,” I continued, while Princess stirred within me, a poignant reminder of the fragility of life.
Lynda’s eyes witnessed my burgeoning pregnancy daily. My belly, once a beacon of hope, must have been a dagger of pain for her, a relentless reminder of what she had lost. How did she endure it?
Why didn’t she resent me, the embodiment of her dashed dreams? I bore the living testament to the future she would never experience.
Lynda’s gentle touch graced my abdomen, a feather-light connection between our shared sorrows.
“At this point, my baby would have been too small for me to feel its movements.”
I clenched my eyes shut against my own burgeoning guilt. “I’m so sorry.”
Another gentle prod from Princess followed Lynda’s caress. “Now, I’ll never sense my baby’s kicks,” her voice quivered through the tears. “The chance to hold my child… taken away.” Lynda cradled the unseen life within, a fragile, protective gesture.
Her affinity for holding my stomach suddenly made sense. Her longing to feel life’s vitality, even vicariously, echoed in every touch.
My hand joined hers, both of us embracing Princess, the unborn bridge between us. “They could have grown up side by side,” I whispered.
Lynda’s nod was sorrow-laden. “In an ideal world, I envision them playing, squabbling, laughing-a bond unbreakable. Perhaps even a future wedding.”
Suppressing my own heartache, I struggled to remain steadfast for Lynda.
“They would have been inseparable,” she murmured.
“Lynda,” I soothed, letting silence embrace us as our minds wove an alternate reality, bittersweet and unrealized.
Then, a revelation fell from her lips like a fragile petal-unexpected and heart-rending.
“I can’t bear children anymore.”
Her words detonated within me. My heart, suspended for a beat, erupted into a tumultuous rhythm.
“What?” I stammered.
“Cancer stole my chance at motherhood long ago. I’d resigned myself. Then a miracle: pregnancy. The joy, Rebecca, was indescribable. A gift reclaimed from despair. But it was snatched away. My womb, damaged by that bullet, silenced forever.”
“I recoiled in shock,” I recounted, my voice tinged with horror.
Lynda’s head bobbed in agreement, her eyes reflecting the weight of her words. “The ability to bring a life into this world was stolen from me once. I was granted a solitary chance, only to have it cruelly snatched away,” she confided.
Her tears mingled with the fabric of my dress and wet my neck. My own teardrops traced glistening paths down my cheeks.
How had Lynda shouldered this burden for so long?
My heart ached in sympathy for her.
“Rebecca, you see, after losing him, I’ve often wondered… why was I chosen? Why did I have to endure the loss of my child?” Her words hung in the air, laden with a mixture of pain and contemplation.
I remained silent, letting my hands communicate what words couldn’t, soothing her with every gentle stroke of my fingers on her back.
Lynda lifted her tear-stained face from my shoulder, locking her gaze with mine. I tenderly brushed away her tears, and she squeezed her eyes shut momentarily. “I view it as destiny. A sacrifice made, a perspective that eases my healing. It sounds strange when spoken aloud,” she managed a brittle chuckle. “In relinquishing the grasp on my own child, fate returned you to us.”
Her words struck me with undeniable force, my eyes widening in comprehension. “So it was meant to be. You believe that my intervention rescued you. If I hadn’t caught Milandro that fateful day, perhaps we would never have found you. This series of events, improbable as they were, brought you back into our lives,” she continued as my silence urged her on. “The loss became a sacrifice to regain you, and I have no regrets.”
I shook my head in disbelief, refusing to accept the weight of her words. “Lynda, you can’t truly mean that.”
A small, fractured smile played on her lips. “Yes, my heart aches for my lost child. The chance to be a mother slipped through my fingers forever. But in that loss, I gained you. I bestowed upon Artemy his Angel. It’s a decision I’ll stand by.”
Her fingers tenderly grazed my rounded belly. “And Princess, too, I saved. The life I couldn’t rescue, I found in her. Our family sustained a loss, yet we welcomed a new life.”
“Lynda…” I began, my voice wavering.
“You sought the truth, Rebecca. This is my truth,” Lynda asserted.
I sagged under the weight of her words, my eyes fixed on the hand that rested on my abdomen. “I’m sorry.”
Lynda shook her head, enfolding me in a warm embrace. “This isn’t your burden to bear. No apologies. It’s a struggle, a pain that often engulfs me, Rebecca. Nights are filled with tears; sleep eludes me. But I press on. The hurt will fade with time.”
As she pulled away, a wink softened her expression. “I have my princess, too. She’ll mend the wounds.” A pause, then her smile returned. “What am I saying? She’s already a balm for my heart.”
Leaning down, Lynda planted a gentle kiss on my belly. “I have no regrets,” she murmured.
This woman’s strength left me in awe. How she endured, I couldn’t fathom.
“Lynda,” I began, only for her to hush me.
“Promise me we’ll leave this behind, never to revisit. You asked, I answered. But dwelling on it serves no purpose. I want to bury it and move forward. Please, Rebecca. Promise.”
I could only nod, our embrace tightening.
“I love you,” I whispered.
“Love you too, babe. We got this together.”
I nodded solemnly, my gaze locking with hers. “Indeed. Just make me a promise, though. Don’t let the weight of your struggles consume you. When it becomes overwhelming, reach out to me. I’ll always be here for you. Sometimes, sharing your thoughts can alleviate the burden.”
“I promise,” she affirmed, her fingers disentangling from mine as she pulled back slightly.
We exchanged a tearful smile, our hands both resting on my swelling belly.
At that moment, a sharp, angry growl pierced the air, causing me to startle. My head snapped up, and I found Artemy’s intense eyes fixed on us as he advanced towards our spot.
“What’s happening here?” he demanded, his tone a mixture of anger and concern. He stood beside me, his tall form casting a shadow over us. His face was a blend of fury and anxiety.
His protective gaze swept over me, his touch grazing my body, searching for any signs of harm. “Are you alright? Damn it. Are you in pain?” Panic tinged his words.
Artemy knelt down, gripping my arm, while Lynda grasped my other arm, their combined effort helping me rise. Artemy enfolded me in his embrace.
His hands roved gently over me, seeking any traces of injury. “Rebecca, are you hurt? Tell me!” His tone was edged with urgency.
I shook my head, reassuringly. “No, I’m fine. Calm down, Artemy.”
“Then why were you on the floor?” His accusing gaze shifted to Lynda.
“We were having a heartfelt conversation,” Lynda retorted defiantly, crossing her arms.
“On the floor?” Brayden interjected, leaning against the doorway with a curious gaze fixed on the scene. “Your eyes are swollen. It’s evident you both were crying.”
Brayden’s words added fuel to the already tense situation.
Artemy’s eyes narrowed, his agitation palpable. Placing my hand over his chest, I attempted to soothe him. “I’m truly alright. We were talking. Emotions got the better of us, that’s all. Please, ease off.”
He let out a sigh, his shoulders slumping with relief. “You’re unhurt.”
Artemy’s statement was more a reassurance than a query.
Offering him a tender smile, I pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. It was an instinctive gesture, impossible to restrain.
He reciprocated with a kiss that exceeded my expectations. When a low groan sounded behind me, I pulled away, my cheeks ablaze.
“You should be resting. Promise me you’ll take it easy while I’m away,” Artemy’s voice was a soft murmur by my ear, his arms encircling my waist like steel bands.
“Alright, I promise,” I agreed readily, well aware that debating with Artemy would be futile. He would probably carry me upstairs himself and assign guards to my door, preventing any chance of escape.
Artemy fixed me with an intense gaze. “Have you eaten?”
I nodded towards the untouched food. “I was about to.”
His lips brushed my forehead feather-lightly. Leaving a chaste kiss there, he withdrew. “Good. I’m heading out now, but I’ll be back tonight.”
A contented hum vibrated in my chest as I stepped out of his embrace. He acknowledged Lynda with a nod before turning to depart. Brayden shot me a reassuring smile before following Artemy.
In the corner of the doorway, I glimpsed Howard. His hands were tucked into his pockets as he observed me. This wasn’t the first time I caught him watching from a distance.
Our gazes locked briefly, and I sensed his discomfort before he hastily retreated. An odd sensation lingered, but before I could delve into it, Lynda’s voice cut through.
“Let’s dig in, darling.”
I nodded, turning towards the stool, ready to focus on the meal at hand.