The only image in my mind was Sierra lying on the floor, the blood on her pants.

Miscarriage.

Ectopic pregnancy.

I knew what the first was, but I had no idea what the latter was, and there was no way in hell I was going to play Google Doctor and try to figure it out for myself.

Seconds turned to minutes, which turned into hours. At least, that’s how it felt. When my name was finally called, I took a glance at the clock. We’d only been there for an hour and twenty-seven minutes. That had to be a good sign, right?

As I approached the doctor, I felt like I was walking towards my doom, yet I wanted to sprint to him, order he take me to my wife, and run through the halls until I got to her.

“Mr. Banks?” he presumed, and I nodded.

My heart was beating at a frantic pace as I waited for him to give me the news. Any news.

“I’m Dr. Vaughn,” he said—as if I gave a shit who he was. “Your wife is awake, and she’s resting comfortably in her room.”

Relief rushed through me, and my shoulders sagged from the weight that’d been lifted. But that relief was ripped away by his next words.

“There’s no easy way to say this, Mr. Banks. Your wife… The bleeding.” He paused. “She was suffering from a miscarriage, and her body couldn’t handle it. Due to the amount of blood and the situation she was in, we felt it best to go ahead and perform an emergency dilation and curettage procedure.”

I stared at him as if he were speaking gibberish. “Dilation and curettage?” I asked.

“It’s often referred to as a D&C. In simple terms, we cut her cervix open and removed the contents of the uterus. The body can naturally expel them over the course of a few weeks, but we felt this was the best route to go.”

I couldn’t even process what he was telling me. I didn’t want to process it. All I wanted was my wife.

“Can I see her?” I asked.

He nodded, and I followed as he led the way to Sierra. He held the door to her room open, and I saw her lying in the bad, pale and so small. She was curled on her side, into a ball, and it took everything in me not to rush to her side, climb on the bed, and hold her close.

I glanced at the doctor. “A minute?”

He nodded again. “I’ll be back in a while to answer any questions you may have.”

When the door shut, it was just me and Sierra, and for the first time in eighteen years, I had no idea what to say.

I pulled a chair up to the edge of the bed and sat down. She was facing me, but her expression was blank, as if she were looking right through me. My hand reached out and took hers, and she finally moved her eyes to meet mine. And then she said two words that sent the tears in my eyes streaming down my cheeks.

“I’m sorry.”

My fingers clutched hers. I brought her hand to my lips and kissed it before placing my other hand on her cheek, cupping it gently. “Sierra,” I whispered, using my thumbs to wipe her falling tears away. “I…”

I had nothing to say, no words or platitudes to give her that would take her pain away. Instead, I rose and sat on the edge of the bed. She scooted back, giving me enough room to lie down with her. I laid my head on the edge of her pillow and took her hand again. I brought our entwined fingers up between us, and I held on as tight as I could. Our eyes were locked, and behind hers, I saw something I’d never seen before, something I never wanted to see: unadulterated pain laced with guilt and confusion. Tears streamed out of them, but she didn’t say a word.

She didn’t have to. Those eyes. They said everything.

I have no idea how long we laid there, barely clinging to each other, but when the doctor came to release Sierra, I reluctantly got off the bed and greeted him. He gave her orders to take it easy for a day or two and told me what to look for in case of complications.

“Doctor?” Sierra called just as he was leaving, surprising me. It was the first thing she’d said since her apology. “Was it… Did I cause…” She trailed off.

My heart squeezed—I hated that she was blaming herself.

“Mrs. Banks, no, of course not. It’s no one’s fault here. There’s no one to blame, I assure you.” He paused, and the solemn expression on his face made it apparent this wasn’t easy for him, either. “It’s unfortunate, and there’s often no reason. These things just happen sometimes.”

“These things just happen?” Sierra exploded. “How can you say that? How did it just happen?” she asked, a cry bursting from her. “What did I do wrong?”

The doctor gave me a sympathetic look as her shoulders shook with hysterical sobs, to the point that she was struggling to breathe. I pulled her onto my lap and rubbed her back, whispering to her, telling her everything was going to be okay.

What could I do? I wasn’t sure at the time, but holding her seemed like a good place to start. Everything after that? I’d figure it out.

At least, I hoped so.

THE WEEKS FOLLOWING SIERRA’S hospital visit were some of the hardest weeks of my life. She wanted to keep what had happened between us, and I respected her wishes.

But I was drowning, and there was no one to throw me a lifeline.

When we’d returned home, Sierra had retreated to the bedroom and sobbed into her pillow for hours. I’d changed my clothes and climbed into bed behind her, but for the first time, she didn’t sink into my embrace. The comfort she needed, I couldn’t offer, and it damn near killed me.

The next day, she sent me to pick Ava up from her parents on my own. I thought Ava would help, but when I got home, Sierra was a zombie version of herself. She didn’t smile. She didn’t frown. Her face was a blank canvas, and no matter what I tried, nothing would spring her to life. It continued the next day, and the next, and weeks later, there hadn’t been so much as a spark.

She was grieving, I knew that, but so was I. We’d both lost something that day. I felt like I was losing more though. It hit me hard, but it was only in the dead of night, when I lay awake, that I allowed myself to even think about what we’d lost. All of my waking moments were spent trying to care for my wife and daughter any way I could. But those long, lonely nights, when she wasn’t clinging to me? Those were the worst. She wouldn’t reach out to me, which made everything so much more difficult to handle.

I knew it was different for Sierra. As short as it had been, she’d carried our baby inside her body. For four weeks, she’d knowingly placed her hands on her belly, excited at the prospect of another little moon. Instead, an asteroid had torn through our solar system, completely wreaking havoc on the blissful existence we’d had.

I wanted to mourn, and eventually, I would, but the last thing I was going to do was mourn the loss of my unborn child and my wife. Because that’s how I felt. With each passing day Sierra retreated into her shell, she was also slipping away from me.

As her husband, it broke my fucking heart. I was supposed to be her rock. I wanted to be her strength. I wanted to be her solace. I wanted her to find her peace in me, to lean on me in her time of need. I wanted to wrap my arms around her and form the cocoon she needed so she could hide until she was ready to emerge back into the land of the living. But that’s the funny—and shitty—thing about life. You don’t always get what you want.

I would though.

I had to.

There was no other option.

Every day when I pulled into the driveway, I had no idea what to expect. I’d been working from home as much as I could, but I still had to do showings and paperwork needed to be signed. I tried to remain as present as possible at home for whenever Sierra decided she needed me though.