Broken (Manhattan Ruthless Book 1)

There’s not much to be seen in the grainy image on the screen, but the obstetrician is smiling as she points out our baby, and the sound of the rapid heartbeat fills the small exam room.

But most of my focus is on Mel’s face. Previously a mask of worry, it’s now lit up like a Christmas tree. Her eyes shine with unbridled happiness, and I have never seen her look more beautiful than she does at this moment.

“You’re six weeks and three days pregnant,” Dr. Walker says.

“Wow!” I blink at the fuzzy image on the screen again. “You can be that accurate?”

“Sure can,” she says with a smile, before she directs all of her attention to Mel again. “Because of your history, we’ll schedule another scan at ten weeks and again at twelve weeks.”

Mel nods her understanding, and Dr. Walker removes the wand and sanitizes her equipment while Mel cleans herself up. My hands twitch by my sides as I resist the urge to help her, but I’m pretty sure she doesn’t need my assistance to get her panties back on.

The doctor is making notes on her computer, and she glances up at Mel. “Remind me how far along you were with your previous miscarriages.”

I watch my wife’s slender throat thicken as she swallows. “Six weeks with the first, and sixteen with the second.”

Holy shit. I know enough about pregnancy to know that sixteen weeks is pretty far along. No wonder she was so anxious on the drive here.

Dr. Walker hums, makes a few more notes, then gives us information on prenatal vitamins and care. I listen intently, swearing to myself that I will do everything in my power to make sure my wife and our baby are taken care in the best way possible.

We’re back in the car on the way home when I finally broach the subject of Mel’s previous pregnancies. “How old were you?”

Her eyes fill with tears, and I want nothing more than to wrap her in my arms and take the hurt away for her, but I’m painfully aware that I have no right to do that anymore. “Nineteen.”

Jesus fucking Christ. She was just a kid.

“You know that whole story about me leaving college because I had ‘issues’?” She uses air quotes for the last word. “And everyone assumed I had a coke addiction?”

“Yeah.”

“Not true. I got pregnant by my biology professor. My family couldn’t bear the shame of it, so they allowed everyone to think that I went off to rehab rather than have anyone find out I was grieving for the two babies I lost.”

“He got you pregnant twice?”

She nods. “The first miscarriage was early. Like six weeks, so they brushed it off as one of those things that just happen. But the second was at sixteen weeks and …” She takes a breath before she continues. “Well, that’s a whole lot different. And that’s why they want me to have regular scans with this one.” Her lip trembles, and I hate that she’s having to relive those painful memories. I don’t want to force her to talk about the pregnancies, so I focus on her college professor, who was a dick for knocking up his nineteen-year-old student.

“Did you love him? The father?”

“Yeah,” she says softly, and I’m filled with burning hatred for the guy, and not because he probably took advantage of her, but because she loved him.

“What happened with him?”

“After the first time, we agreed to try again—”

“Even though you were still in college?” I frown.

She shakes her head. “I know it sounds crazy now, but after my dad died, I felt like I had nobody. I was mixed up. I was just looking for …” She brushes a tear from her cheek.

She was just looking for someone to fucking love her.

“He was so sweet. So cool and mature, you know? I thought he was the most incredible person I’d ever met.”

Of course he seemed fucking mature when you were nineteen. I fucking hate him.

“He sold me a future that seemed so much better than the one my mom and brother had mapped out for me. So, when he suggested we try again, it made perfect sense to me. We agreed I’d stay in college to keep up appearances and then drop out as soon as the pregnancy became impossible to hide.”

“He sounds like a fucking asshole,” I spit, unable to hold back and half expecting her to defend him.

Instead, she lets out a harsh laugh. “Yeah, he sure was.”

“What happened between the two of you?”

Her beautiful face pinches in a frown as she stares over my shoulder. “After I lost the second baby, he blamed me. He said I partied too hard and hadn’t taken good enough care of myself. I went to one party and had a single sip of wine.” Another tear rolls down her cheek, and I go to wipe it away, but she roughly swats it away before I can. “We stayed together for a few weeks after that, but he kept getting worse with his bullshit about how it was all my fault. I couldn’t deal with the grief, so I left and …” She blows out a breath. “I went home and told my mom and Bryce, and they stirred up that stupid rumor about why I dropped out.”

“And the professor? He just got away with what he did to you?”

“It’s not like he broke the law or anything. Bryce and my mom wanted it all swept under the rug. I believe he was questioned by the dean about our alleged relationship, but he denied it all. He went on living his life like nothing had ever happened, and I was …” She wipes her hands on her jeans. “No point reliving the past right now, huh?”

“Where is he now?”

“According to Tyler, who stalks him on Facebook, he’s living in Ohio with his wife and two kids.”

“You want me to take care of him for you?” I ask, only half joking. All she has to do is say the word. “Because I know people.”

That gets me a soft laugh, and fuck me, but I love to see her smile. “I’m sorry I never told you, Nathan.” I fucking hate that she calls me Nathan, but I bite back that particular retort. “It’s just … It hurts to talk about that with anyone, but I should have told you. I guess my mom and Bryce thought it was easier to marry me off if I was a reformed coke addict than someone who couldn’t have kids.”

I reach for her hand, and she doesn’t pull away this time, so I thread my fingers through hers and kiss her knuckles. Making a mental note to have Helen find the best obstetrician in the country, I silently promise to get her and our baby the best medical care money can buy. But I don’t tell her that right now because I’m not sure if she’ll view it as me overstepping, and I’m still on thin ice here. “You might have owed me a lot of things, Mel, but not that. And you can have kids, corazón. We’re having one,” I say instead. S~ᴇaʀᴄh the Find ɴøᴠel.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

She gives me a faint smile. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”