He Chose Her While I Lost Our Baby

Chapter 2 The Empty Space

The next morning, I held the banister as I made my way downstairs and found two workers moving my drafting table. It stood beside a south-facing window. For 6 years, I had drawn every Black Fir rescue route at that table.

Adrian stood in the doorway holding a cup of coffee. I picked up the earring from the key tray and handed it to him. "Give this back to Lia for me."

His expression stiffened for a second when he saw it. "She wasn't feeling well yesterday, so she rested in our room for a while. Don't read too much into it."

"Okay."

He waited, but when I said nothing else, he pointed to the workers. "Lia wants to use this room to practice. She says the room upstairs is too dark."

"What about my maps?"

"They're boxed up. The basement has heat too."

The workers stopped awkwardly, waiting for me to object. I removed the old compass from the corner of the table. "You can move everything else."

Adrian watched me. He raised his coffee, then lowered it again. "When we expand in the spring, I'll give you a bigger room."

"No need."

There would be no spring for us.

I took a cab to the foundation. When the driver saw the trouble I had walking, he backed up to the steps and got out to open the door for me. That small act of kindness nearly made me cry.

Conversation died away when my coworkers saw the brace on my leg. Emma turned on my computer and lowered her voice. "You can take a few more days off."

"I'm here to hand everything over."

She thought I meant I was taking temporary leave. Then she saw the complete project list I had prepared.

"Nora?"

I smiled at her.

I marked the avalanche-prone stretches of the northern route and noted which sections still needed an on-site inspection, then sent everything to Emma. As she organized my departure paperwork, her hands stopped moving. I had removed Adrian from the emergency contact field and replaced him with my father's name and number.

She didn't say anything else. She reached up and brought down a box from the top of my cabinet for me.

After packing my things, I answered another email. The county fire department had filed its report about the rescue. Someone was investigating why the first helicopter had left without taking me, and they wanted to speak with me. I agreed to meet them after my follow-up appointment.

That evening, Adrian came to my office carrying a new pair of thermal gloves. "You used to say your hands got cold when you drew."

I took them and set them beside my desk. I had said that 2 years ago, when the heating broke. Even I had almost forgotten.

His phone lay on the desk. The screen lit up with a photo and a message from Lia. She was wearing white gloves.

Lia: These look so much better! The gray ones are so frumpy. Good thing you said Nora could have them, or they would've gone to waste.

Adrian picked up the phone and turned off the screen. I put the gray gloves back into their box.

He frowned. "They're the same brand and cost the same. Why are you making this a thing?"

"I'm not. I put them away for you."

He didn't leave. His gaze fell on the half-empty bookcase. "Packing up?"

"Mm-hmm."

"I'll be busy this week. After the winter fundraising gala, we'll spend 2 days at the mountain cabin."

Last year, the bread I had baked for that birthday trip sat in the refrigerator until it went hard. This time, I didn't ask for a date. I folded the shipping receipt for my luggage and tucked it inside the notebook beside me.

I sent the last document to Emma. "I'm not going."

His expression hardened. "Nora, what exactly do you want from me?"

"I haven't asked you for anything."

"How long are you going to sulk over one little incident yesterday?"

I looked up into his impatient eyes. "Do you know what condition my car was in?"

He paused. "Didn't the next rescue team reach you?"

I nodded. "They did."

After he left, I took the emergency report out of the pharmacy bag and placed it in the folder I had prepared for the investigators.

When I returned to the estate, I moved into the guest room and called my mother. She was baking apple pies for a community sale. In the background, I heard my father looking for a baking pan.

"Sweetheart, are you coming home for Christmas this year?"

"Yes." I buried my face in the pillow. "Could I come a little early?"

"Of course. Your bed always has clean sheets."

I murmured a reply, afraid to say anything more. Outside the door, Adrian's footsteps stopped for a moment.

Then they receded.