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aren’t telling me?”
    “Well. It’s like the doctor told me. When a woman loses a lot of blood real fast like that, it…you know.”
    “What?”
    “Can cause a miscarriage.”
    “Miscarriage?”
    “I’m sorry,” she said. “She did lose the baby.”
    “Baby?”
    Their eyes met. Her confusion slowly turned to anger as she said, “Peyton was in her eleventh week. You didn’t know?”
    “She didn’t tell me.”
    She stepped closer, glaring. “Listen to me. Peyton didn’t know the name of your hotel in Providence. I called you in the middle of the night and you didn’t answer your cell phone. Now I find out you didn’t even know your own wife was pregnant. I don’t like what I’m sensing, so you’d better give me a straight answer. What in the devil is going on with you kids?”
    He paused, searching for the right response. “We aren’t kids anymore. Maybe that’s what’s going on.”
     
    Jamie. That was going to be the baby’s name. It worked well for a boy or a girl, like her own name. Jamie Stokes. Or Jamie Shields. Depending on whether…well, that wasn’t an issue anymore.
    Peyton had been alert enough in the emergency room to tell them she was pregnant. She seemed to drift in and out of consciousness as they tended to her injuries, but she heard one of the doctors mention the need for a D & C—dilation and curettage. She knew she’d miscarried.
    “Peyton?”
    She tried to open her eyes, but one remained in darkness. Her good eye followed the plastic IV tubes from the bag to her arm, and slowly she started to realize where she was. She felt woozy but strong enough to check her bandage. It seemed huge, covering one eye and half of her forehead. A wave of panic washed over her at the thought of a serious facial injury.
    “Kevin?” she said softly. She felt him squeeze her hand, then saw his face. She tried to smile, but her face was numb. At least half of it. The injured half. The God-only-knows-what-it-looks-like half. “What happened?”
    “You were in a car accident.”
    She raised her head slightly from the pillow, as close as she could come to sitting up. “I know. What I meant was, what are they saying about my injuries?”
    “The doctor can explain better than me. But she says you’re gonna be just fine.”
    “Do I look fine?”
    He didn’t answer right away. “You look like the luckiest woman alive.”
    “Now you sound like my dad.”
    “Would you rather I sound like your mother?”
    “Only if we double the painkillers.” They shared a faint smile. Then slowly she scanned the room to gain her bearings. The equipment, the monitors, the sounds she knew from her training.
    “I’m still in intensive care.”
    “Only until your vital signs stabilize. You took a pretty good whack to the head, so they’re not taking any chances.”
    “What time is it?”
    “A little after nine.”
    “I feel like Rip Van Winkle.”
    “You’re wiped out, I’m sure. You lost a lot of blood.”
    His words hung in the air, both of them aware of the bleeding’s consequences. Bandages or not, she knew she wasn’t doing a very good job of hiding the hurt expression on her face.
    “I’m sorry about—”
    “Let’s not talk about that, okay?”
    “I just don’t understand. Why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant?”
    “I’m sorry. I was waiting for the right time to tell you.”
    “So why did the right time never seem to come along?”
    “That’s…complicated.”
    “I know there’s been some distance between us lately. But things weren’t really so bad that you couldn’t tell me we were having a baby. Were they?”
    “Do you love me?”
    He showed some surprise in response to the question, but it didn’t strike Peyton as all that genuine. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but Kevin didn’t seem to be acting like himself.
    “You know I do,” he said.
    “No, I don’t. The last few months, you don’t even seem to like me anymore, let alone love me.”
    “Maybe