I found Alex curled up on the couch beneath four or five heavy blankets. There was a fire in the grate and she was sipping a cup of tea.

My heart physically ached at the sight of her, looking so helpless and afraid. I'd never seen her like that before last week. She'd always been so careful to put on a strong, ice queen façade, even in front of me. But not anymore.

I sat down beside her and wrapped my arms around her shoulders, gathering her into a warm hug. Even underneath all those blankets, she was trembling.

She pulled away from me. "I thought I told you –"

"It's okay," I assured her. "We don't have to talk if you don't want to. I love you, baby, and I want you to know I'm here for you. I love you, Alex."

She relaxed a bit in my embrace, but the walls were up again. The vulnerability I'd glimpsed just a moment before had dissipated just as abruptly as it had appeared. "Okay," she whispered, holding on tightly to me. "I love you, too." Then they crumbled and Alex burst into tears. "I'm sorry, Olivia. I should have told you. It wasn't you – it was me – and you shouldn't – I didn't mean to – I'm sorry, Liv. Please don't be mad. I love you."

I pulled her onto my lap and planted a soft kiss on her forehead, gently stroking her hair as I murmured, "Shh, baby, it's okay. It's okay. I'm not mad. I could never be mad, princess. Never. It's okay."

She nodded and buried her head in my neck. I kissed away her tears and didn't say anything else, just rubbed soothing circles into her back, trying to calm her down. This was what she needed right now.

Alex fell asleep in my arms but I couldn't get to sleep. I spent the night holding my girlfriend and making sure she was all right, planting intermittent kisses on her forehead and gently stroking her hair, just as much for my comfort as hers. Alex didn't stir. "I'm so sorry, baby," I whispered, despite – or maybe because of – the fact that she was asleep and couldn't hear me.

I still couldn't believe that she had been raped and I hadn't known. She hadn't trusted me enough to tell me and I couldn't help her and I'd made her feel guilty about being pregnant. It wasn't her fault and I knew she wouldn't have had an abortion. She would have thought it would be a sore spot for me, because if my mother had aborted the product of her rape, I wouldn't be here. She never would have wanted to do that to me.

But that wasn't a problem anymore. She'd miscarried. And as guilty as I felt about it, I couldn't help but be glad. I'm not sure about Alex, but I knew I would never be able to raise a rapist's child. Okay, I knew in my head that it would have really been Alex's baby, our baby, but I wasn't sure if I would really be able to make the distinction. And if I need any evidence to support such a claim, just look at what raising a rapist's child did to my mother.

Then I remembered Alex's words whenever I mentioned this to her. "But Olivia, look how wonderful you turned out," she told me over and over again. "That's just proof that good things can come from even the worst circumstances."

And that made me love her even more.

I gave her another kiss and sighed deeply. Alex's head was resting on my stomach, and it rose and fell along with my breathing. I ran my fingers through her smooth blonde hair as she slept. Just being close to her gave me some of the comfort I needed right now.

I felt Alex start to stir and gently rubbed her back. "Hey, princess," I whispered, planting another soft kiss on her forehead.

She snuggled closer to me. "What time is it?"

"It's three in the morning. You can go back to sleep."

"Mmm."

She was only half-awake and I hugged her tightly. "You're okay."

She smiled. "I know. I'm with you."

Review if you'd like chapter twelve!