“You’d never—”
“How do you know for sure that you don’t have a dragon living in your dungeon, if you don’t open the door?” His face was contorted with anguish and Shaundra wanted to cradle it on both hands, but didn’t dare.
“That’s why you never wanted kids. That’s why you were so upset when I became pregnant.”
He nodded miserably. “I wanted to be with you more than anything, but I didn’t know what would happen when the baby was born. What if I turned into a monster? You’d have never forgiven me. I preferred that you hated me for leaving than for you to hate me for hurting our child. I didn’t want to risk it.”
She’d heard enough of it. She put some authority in her voice. “You listen to me. I’m sorry for what happened to you. I grieve for the childhood you lost. But that doesn’t distort who you are. Your soul is still intact. Your ethics, your morals, your sense of right and wrong, they’re still there. Untainted. I know you, Nathanael. You are not a sexual deviant. And I would put my head on a block and swear that you are incapable of hurting a child!”
In his eyes, she could read the desperate need for that confirmation, the battle between his own sense of self and the phantom of the person that an evil man had told him he would become.
She clasped his face in her hands to emphasize her point. “Think about these past few weeks since Benjamin went into the hospital. The care you’ve shown him, and how hard you’ve studied to learn to do the basic things. Youarea good father. You’llalways bea good father. That wickedness will never claim you. It has never been inside you. Do you hear me?”
He nodded, seeming to accept the fact.
Shaundra released him and added softly, “I didn’t want kids either, remember? For different reasons than you, but valid reasons, nonetheless. All those years I spent raising my brothers and sisters, not having a childhood of my own. Constantly coming to the rescue whenever my mother staked everything on a new relationship with a new man, and they tossed her onto the rocks. And when I realized I was pregnant, I was upset too. I was scared. But I went through it even though you deserted me. And here we are. Here Benjamin is. And he is wonderful.”
Nathanael seemed to be listening, staring into her face as if her words meant everything to him.
She went on, “But our mission, Nathanael, is to be there for him. To care for him and raise him to his greatest potential. And you’ll be wonderful at that. I promise. You might have missed out on the first few months of his life, but you have all the time in the world to make it up to him.”
“And what about you?”
She was puzzled. “What do you mean?”
“How can I make it up to you? What do I do to be a better man for you? To make up for my desertion?”
She felt a chill, as if the encouraging warmth that had flowed between them when talking about their son had leeched out of the room. Benjamin, she could discuss any time. But her and Nathanael? That was something different. There had been too much pain, too much hurt. The gap between them had stretched into a chasm, and she wasn’t sure if it could ever be bridged.
She hopped off the chair hastily, backing away, afraid to catch his eye lest she become ensnared by his gaze. “I’m sorry, Nathanael. You and me? I’m afraid we’re much, much too late to fix this.”
She hurried to her room and shut the door.