BROKEN COURAGE (Broken Redemption Book 3)

Chapter 12

Lucas

"I'm pregnant."

With a loud gasp, my lungs inflate with air. The rush of oxygen must be what breaks through the hazy darkness, for even as my mind is still processing her words, relief pours back into my chest, filling all the empty spaces that just moments ago felt like the end.

She's pregnant.

Pregnant!

Thinking back to when we made love this morning and I tried telling her I didn't have a condom, her words reverberate through my head. "It's okay," she said because she knew.

We're pregnant!

Rushing to her, I pull her into my arms just as my tears begin to fall. With a smile on my face, I close my eyes and whisper a silent thank you to the universe for coming through for me. After years of pain, darkness, and inconsolable loneliness, I finally have a chance at a new life.

"Oh, sweetheart. I'm so happy." Breathing her in, I drop kisses wherever I can reach that doesn't require I release her from my embrace. Why was she so afraid to tell me? Did she think I wouldn't want this? A baby with her? Our baby. "I mean it, Emb. You've just made me the happiest man alive."

"Lucas, wait," she sobs. "There's more you need to know." When she pushes away, I let her go, but not before taking her hands in mine.

"Then tell me the rest, sweetheart. Because I'm in. All in. No matter what." Reclaiming a seat on the edge of the bed, I pull her in so she's sitting on my lap.

"Lucas, I'm so sorry."

"Baby, there's nothing for you to be sorry for. Look at me." With a finger under her chin, I tilt her gaze towards me. "Nothing."

"There is." She nods in rapid succession as a sob breaks free from her beautiful lips. It's only then that I notice her fear hasn't waned. If anything, it's grown exponentially more noticeable except now it's also tinged with a look of devastation that twists my insides into knots and sends bile creeping up my throat. "The timing. The baby isn't yours, it's Creed's."

And just like that, my world implodes.

Time. Space. My beating heart. Everything stops and comes to a standstill. Like I'm suddenly submerged and sinking underwater, the surrounding air grows thicker and heavier with every second that passes. I'm drowning. Succumbing to the conditions as I'm thrust into a murky depth I'm not meant to survive. The trained warrior in me who grew out of drown-proofing training at BUD/s, screams at me to keep my wits about me and acclimate, but try as I might, I just don't see a way out this time. Especially since giving up feels far simpler and much less painful than surviving only to endure another lifetime without her.

The fucker won.

The bastard stole her right out from under my watch only to use and then discard her as though she's insignificant when, in fact, she is everything! He took her from me and then left behind this insurmountable wedge between us that I'm not certain we can overcome.

And now I see.

The way she made love to me this morning, and how she's been acting the past few weeks, is all because she knew. She's pregnant not with my child but with his and it's all my fault since I'm the one who failed to protect her.

Before I realize what's happening, she's no longer on my lap. Buried under a landslide of devastation, I drop my head into my hands and sob. From utter joy to absolute rock-bottom despair, I find myself back in that hospital bed after the rescue. Just like those mornings when I'd wake up confused and desperate to hold on to a reality that never existed, I feel so damn helpless and empty. The devastation of falling for yet another mirage, another trick of my imagination, leaves no room for any emotion other than hopeless despondency.