The Warmest Winter✓

Fifty-three

"We're home now," Liam says monotonously. He throws the car keys on the bedside table before whirling around to face me. "I do hope we can talk, right?" The sound of his voice is rather harsh and disturbing.

I take a deep breath and shut the door. My heart is pounding fast as I march weakly towards the bed. Everything around us seems in utter silence. I put my clutch down and sigh again.

Slowly I sit on the bed, but Liam doesn't.

"Are we going to talk like this? You standing and me sitting?" I ask Liam in a nervous whisper, gazing up at him.

His jaw ticks. He sits unceremoniously next to me.

"Where should I start?" I find myself laughing softly, my lower lip pinched between my teeth.

God, this is tougher than I thought. And my husband's arctic mood makes me even more innervated. I feel very sacred as our eyes meet.

"Anywhere, Kira," Liam replies, and suddenly his cold eyes are replaced with worry, anger thrown aside. "I wanna know what is wrong with you—with us. Why can't you talk to me? What is it that I exude for you to prefer concealing most of your troubles? Am I scary to you? Damn, Kira, you're my wife! Everything affecting you affects me as much, can't you see it?" He sounds mad again.

"I can't get pregnant," I say curtly.

Liam's face turns blank in a fleeting moment as though the mechanic of his brain is in full speed to elucidate my statement. I hold my breath, waiting.

"What did you say?" Liam asks quietly, his eyes raw and confused.

I sit straight, pulling my courage in.

"I took the fertility test a few days ago," I say with a pause, eyes on Liam's unsettling ones.

He is impassive, his posture unmoved. He's just staring at me with sealed lips, eyes blazed. I wish to know what's going on in his head, even though I'm positive I wouldn't like it.

"Dr. Adams said I can't conceive," I proceed, despair in my voice easily fathomable. "I have a . . . Some kind of hormonal imbalance that prevents me from getting pregnant." I shrug, fiddling with my fingers on my lap.

Silence follows. A long moment passes but Liam says nothing, except for his latent scowl that's ever screaming the horror in his heart, his head, or both.

I stand up briskly, frustrated.

"Won't you say anything?" I snap, wiping the unshed tears off my eyes.

Liam glances to his side, his whole body tense.

"I said I can't get you a baby as you desperately want, Liam!" I let the tears flow, but quickly I wipe them off with the back of my hand while staring at him. "There, I said it! I kept it for three days, wondering how I'm going to tell you about it. It was driving me crazy but thinking of your reaction to this was what drove me crazier."

"And when were you going to tell me?" Liam quizzes monotonously as he now looks up at me.

"Maybe today?" I reply with frankness because that was the plan for tonight. "But I was going to tell you no matter how long it took, Liam. I just needed to feel prepared for any of your reactions."

Liam's face hardens even more as he shrugs out of his blazer, eyes focused on me. He takes it off and pitches it aside. He then stands up with menace.

"And what else?" he asks, seemingly hurt and disappointed. "What else is my dear wife hiding from me, huh? Because I frankly wouldn't be surprised if there's more." He laughs briefly.