A hard knot tightened Riley's stomach as the color drained from Hannah's pale features. He felt raw and angry; the pain of years past clawed at his nerves. "I was two years old before my mother got around to marrying Bill. He didn't last long, though. None of my mother's men friends ever did."
Hannah's gaze met his. Damn, but he wished she'd say something. Anything. Until she'd demanded to know why he'd insisted on marrying her, Riley hadn't given the matter much thought. The answer was complicated by a multitude of other factors. Rather than stick his reasons under a microscope, Riley preferred not to think about them. Marriage was the best solution, or so it had seemed at the time. Riley wasn't sure of that any longer.
Unshed tears glistened in Hannah's dove-gray eyes. She'd never looked more frail, as though it was all she could do to remain upright. He noted how ragged her breathing was as she edged her way past him. Riley reached out to her, wanting with everything in him to ease her mind in some small way, but she flinched and snatched her arm from him before he could touch her.
He stood numb and empty. The power of her silence wounded him deeply. He was aware, too, of her pain; and knowing he was the one responsible cut unmercifully at his heart.
Riley watched her move down the hallway, her steps like those of a sleepwalker. As she opened the door to her room and walked inside, he experienced a weighty sadness. He was standing there trying to decide what to do, if anything, when the muted sounds of her sobs reached him. Riley wasn't sure who she wept for – him or for herself. Perhaps her sorrow was for their unborn child.
Unable to listen to her anguish and do nothing, Riley reacted to his instincts. God as his witness, he'd never meant to hurt Hannah. Her door wasn't locked, and for that much he was grateful. She was curled up in a tight ball on top of her bed, her soft dark hair cascading over her face and neck. Her shoulders were racked with sobs.
Led by impulse, Riley moved to her side and sat on the edge of the mattress. With gentle fingers, he brushed the hair from her face, fearing she'd pull away from him again. He couldn't have borne it if she had. As strange as it seemed, he needed her at that moment as much as she needed him, although he was certain neither would be willing to admit as much.
Not knowing how to relieve her anxiety, or his own, he lay down beside her, resting his head on the same pillow as hers. For long moments he simply watched her, hoping his being there would lend her comfort.
After a while her tears abated and she opened her eyes. They were round and weary, as if mirroring her soul. Her innocence and her beauty stirred him, and without examining the sudden, fierce need that flamed to life within him, he kissed her.