At First Sight - Nicholas Sparks [59]
She swallowed, not hiding her confusion. “It was in the journal?”
“Yeah, and so was the name Trevor Newland.”
“Wait . . . ,” she said, her confusion growing more evident.
“Just tell me,” he demanded. “I saw your initials, I saw his name, and I put two and two together. You were pregnant, weren’t you?”
“So what?” she cried. “Why does it even matter?”
“It just hurts to think that you didn’t believe in me enough to tell me. I’m tired of these secrets between us—”
She cut him off before he had a chance to finish. “It hurts? Did you ever stop to think about my feelings when you saw the journal? That I might have been hurt? That maybe I didn’t tell you because I don’t like to remember what happened? That it was a horrible period of my life, and I never wanted to relive it again? It has nothing to do with trusting you. It has nothing to do with you at all. I got pregnant. I had a miscarriage. So what? People make mistakes, Jeremy.”
“You’re missing my point.”
“What point? That you wanted to pick another fight this morning and were looking for any excuse to start one? Well, you did find one, so congratulations. But I’m getting tired of this. I know you’re under stress, but you don’t have to keep taking it out on me.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“With your writing!” she said, throwing up her hands. “That’s what this is all about, and you know it! You can’t write, and you’re taking it out on me, like it’s somehow my fault. You’ve been blowing everything out of proportion, and I’m on the receiving end. A friend is in trouble, so I talk to him, and all of a sudden, I don’t trust you. I don’t tell you that I had a miscarriage four years ago, and it’s because I don’t trust you. I’m sick of being made to feel like I’m the bad guy because you can’t come up with an article.”
“Don’t blame all this on me. I’m the one who made the sacrifice to come down here—”
“See!” she said. “That’s exactly what I mean! You made the sacrifice.” She practically spat out the word. “That’s exactly how you’ve been acting! Like you ruined your whole life by moving down here!”
“I didn’t say that.”
“No, but that’s what you meant! You’re stressed about writing, and you take it out on me! It’s not my fault! And did you ever stop to think that I’m stressed, too? I’m the one who made all the wedding plans! I’m the one who’s been in charge of renovating the house! I’m the one who’s doing all this while carrying a baby! And what do I get? ‘You didn’t tell me the truth.’ Even if I did, even if I’d told you everything, you still would have found another reason to be mad at me! Nothing I do is right anymore. It’s like you’ve changed into a person I don’t even know.”
Jeremy felt his own anger flare again. “That’s because you don’t think I do anything right, either! I don’t dress right, I don’t order the right foods, I want the wrong kind of car, I didn’t even get to pick the house I’m going to live in. You’ve been making all the decisions, and my ideas count for nothing!”
Her eyes flashed. “That’s because I’m thinking about our family. All you think about is yourself!”
“And what about you?” he shouted. “I’m the one who had to give up my family because you wouldn’t. I had to risk my career because you wouldn’t. I live in a piece-of-crap motel surrounded by dead animals because you didn’t want people in town to get the wrong impression! And I’ve been the one paying for things you want—not the other way around!”
“Money? You’re mad about the money, too?”
“I’m going broke down here, and you don’t even notice! We could have waited on some of these renovations! We didn’t need a five-hundred-dollar crib! We didn’t need an entire dresser full of clothes! The baby’s not even here yet!” He threw his hands in the air. “So you can see why I’m stressed about writing. It’s how I pay for all this stuff you want, and I can’t do it here. There’s no news to draw on, there