Thank you all for still reading and for your great responses! Here's the next chapter - enjoy! :)
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Daniel stood there as Betty clung to him; his arms wrapped around her, but only by instinct. He couldn't comprehend anything at the moment - he just felt numb. "H-how did this happen?" he finally managed. Betty pulled away and wiped her tears.
"I-I don't know . . . I was at my fitting with Christina and all of a sudden I had these really bad cramps in my stomach. They went away after a while, so I brushed it off and told Christina not to worry. But then they got worse – I could feel them all the way in my shoulder . . ." she shakily began.
"So we went to the emergency room. They did an ultrasound and found I had an ectopic pregnancy . . . that it had ruptured," she choked back tears. "They had to rush me to surgery and repair the damage . . . I lost one of my fallopian tubes," she revealed. Daniel wasn't exactly sure what that meant, but it was obviously bad – any type of operation was, in his opinion.
"Oh, god! Betty, why didn't you call me?" Daniel gently berated her, his voice cracking from devastation. Ironically he had thought the worst few days were over, that he could come home to something better, something happier.
"I'm sorry – you were on the plane, and I didn't want to worry you when you had that big negotiation . . . and by the time I found out it was serious . . . I just thought you deserved to be told in person . . . I'm so sorry, Daniel!" she began to cry.
"Shhh . . . It's okay . . . everything's going to be okay . . ." he held her, comforting her the best he knew how as tears ran down his own face. He couldn't believe their baby, the tiny life he and Betty had created, was gone. Sure, they hadn't planned to bring a child into the world so soon, but it didn't make the pain subside.
From the minute he found out Betty was pregnant, Daniel loved that baby. He was looking forward to teaching his child everything, laughing with it, loving it, giving it everything his parents, despite their fortune, failed to give him as a kid.
Now his child was dead. He didn't even have a chance to see it on an ultrasound, find out whether it was a boy or a girl . . . Not that it would've mattered either way. He would have loved it just the same. His heart ached. He and Betty were so happy. Why did something always have to screw up their lives together?
And why wasn't he told sooner? He knew it wouldn't have made a difference in the outcome, but there was something about the thought of not knowing when it happened, not being able to be there, unable to hold Betty's hand, be by her side before and after the procedure – even just talk to her . . . she must have been so scared . . . it tore him up inside.
He knew she had had Christina to take care of her and he was very grateful, but it wasn't the same. He knew Betty was trying to do the right thing by waiting and he wouldn't fathom telling her how he felt about it – at least not now. She was too fragile . . . her heart was breaking and she was still physically recovering as well, he assumed.
He just had to let it go and get through this with her. "Hey, let's get you in bed, okay? You need to rest," Daniel softly told her. Betty nodded and allowed him to carry her up the stairs. He tucked her in, planting a brief but loving kiss on her lips before beginning to leave. Betty reached for him, grabbing his hand.
"Don't go – stay with me until I fall asleep?" she pleaded. "Sure, whatever you need," Daniel laid down beside her, stroking her hair. He wished he could make it all go away for her, for both of them. Bring the baby back . . . bring their lives back to normal, where they were looking forward to the future.
"You wanna know something funny?" he asked, trying to take her mind off of the baby so she could get a restful sleep. "What?" she wondered, sniffling. "I got so nervous at the presentation that I started talking in an Irish accent," Daniel admitted, and started to laugh at himself. Betty began laughing too, until they were both hysterical.
"I even got this . . ." he softly added. Swallowing back the tears he pulled out a onesie from his pocket that said 'Kiss Me – I'm Not Irish, But I'm Still Cute'. "Aww! That's so sweet . . . it would've been perfect . . ." she whispered, giving him a bittersweet smile. "Babe, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to make you upset all over again – I was only trying to make you smile . . ." Daniel apologized. He wasn't sure what to do.
"It's okay – you did. Even if it was only for a few minutes, it helped. But what can I do for you? I know how much you loved our child . . . you're hurting, too. I just feel so bad that I lost your baby . . . th-that I let you down . . ." she brought her hand up to his cheek. He gently held onto her wrist. "Hey, it wasn't your fault. It wasn't anyone's fault – you did nothing wrong. You have to remember that, okay?" Daniel insisted, turning his head to kiss her palm. Betty meekly nodded.
"I'll be fine," he cleared his throat. "I'm more worried about you. Come on, just relax – I'll go turn off the light," he told her. "Daniel? Could you get me another pillow, first?" Betty asked. "Yeah, do you know where any are?" he asked, still unsure of where everything was since they'd moved. "There should be one in one of the other bedrooms' closets," she answered.
Daniel randomly went to the one directly across the hallway and opened up the closet door, finding a pillow at eye-level. His eyes briefly glanced down below and fell on the refinished rocking horse. The pillow immediately escaped his hands. He ran his fingers over the beloved heirloom, crouching down as his knees weakened and the flood began.
"Daniel? Did you find one? Daniel . . .?" Betty called and finally climbed out of bed and hobbled down the hall to check on him, after receiving no answer. She found him kneeling on the floor next to the rocking horse. Her heart broke all over again at what this was doing to him – what she had done to him.
"Oh, Daniel, I'm so sorry . . ." she cried, gently holding him as he wept into her stomach. He hated having her see him like this, knowing it would make her feel guilty no matter how many times he told her it wasn't her fault. But he couldn't stop the tears from falling.
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A little over a week had gone by. Christina had gone back to Edinborough the next morning. Betty was still recovering at home, but her assistant Emma was constantly running back and forth . . . scheduling video conferences, bringing proofs and drafts and mock-ups, making sure that their first issue's launch was still on schedule.
She might as well have gone to the office for all of the work she was doing at the house. The only consolation was that at least she was staying in bed for the most part. Daniel had read laparotomies took up to six weeks of recovery depending on the person, but there she was, basically acting like nothing had happened.
He worried that Betty was over-doing it not only physically, but mentally as well . . . burying herself in her work to forget about the pain - not that he wasn't doing the same. After the disastrous business trip, he had to do everything to make up for it - study the terms, work late hours . . . he couldn't lose this job.
Even though it wasn't easy for him to be out of his element, he was actually enjoying the challenge. And he couldn't deny that having a distraction was helpful. Work and the punching bag at the gym were what kept him sane recently.
He and Betty hadn't really talked after that first night. Well . . . they talked . . . but it was more what to get for dinner, how work was, what movie or TV show to watch, who was going to empty the dishwasher than anything serious. He wanted to talk . . . he knew they should, but every time he tried to bring it up she evaded the topic.
He didn't want to push her, only he knew keeping everything bottled inside, not continuing to grieve together wasn't healthy for them or for their relationship. However, he also didn't think constantly wallowing in their loss was good either. He didn't know what to do, really. He just wanted them to be okay again.
It was now the night of the launch party and Daniel tried everything he could to convince Betty to stay home and rest, but she refused. She claimed one night out wouldn't kill her after being cooped up in the house for two weeks and that it was her magazine so she had to be there.
Daniel just hoped she wouldn't collapse or feel too overwhelmed by the press. Under normal circumstances, he had complete faith in her. Sometimes she handled things better than he could. But tonight was different, she was vulnerable and under a lot of stress - two things the media preyed on. He was glad he'd be there as back-up.
"Are you sure you don't want to stay home?" Daniel attempted one last time to reason with her. "Daniel, for the thousandth time – I love you, but I'm fine!" Betty insisted, gingerly putting on her dress. "Now zip me up. I can't believe I still feel bloated . . ." she shook her head in disbelief.
"It's because you're still recovering. I'm sure the surgical site is sore and I know it's swollen. It's not like you've given it much of a chance to heal . . ." he frankly pointed out. "Are you going to zip me up, or do I have to go to this thing backless?" she snapped, half-frustrated, half-joking. "That would be really sexy, if you think about it . . ." he teased, trying to lighten her mood.
"Daniel . . ." Betty protested. "Ok . . ." he caved, kissing a trail up her back as he zipped her dress, causing an erotic shiver to go through her spine. "Babe, this really isn't fair . . . you know we can't do anything for another few weeks . . ." Betty turned around, molding her hands against Daniel's chest.
"Probably not until the wedding," he lowered his head down to hers. "The wedding . . . right . . ." she faked a smile and proceeded to put on her shoes. "Is something wrong?" Daniel wondered, something about her reaction seemed off. "No. Everything's fine – I promise," she assured him, not allowing him to see the true expression on her face.
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The launch party went off without a hitch. The venue was perfect, the food was great, and the music was current with a mix of British and American artists on the playlist. Everyone was buzzing about the magazine and amazed at what an incredible job Betty had done with it. The press was eating it up and she was sure the first issue would get rave reviews. She couldn't have asked for a more perfect night . . . until the press asked one last question - which escalated into many more . . .
"We heard you just lost a baby with New York's publishing heir, Daniel Meade. Did you plan this pregnancy?" a reporter asked. "Were you getting married because of it?" an editor from a tabloid inquired. "Is the wedding still on?" another wondered. "Are you planning on trying again?" yet another wanted to know. Betty froze.
The multiple questions about her personal life threw her. She knew they shouldn't have. It wasn't like she didn't expect the media to pounce on her. Daniel had been fighting off press from the time he could walk, so the mere association with him in an intimate way made her a target. Not to mention that she was now an EIC, herself. Plus, Justin had told her about Suzuki's over-the-top splash about their engagement, on Fashion TV. She just hadn't expected anyone to know about their baby.
She hadn't even told her family – what if they found out about it through the media? Her staff only knew because there was no other way of explaining her absence. And fortunately, they were kind enough not to bring it up. However, someone must have accidentally leaked the information to the press. Betty was being bombarded with questions and flashes from cameras, attempting to get her first reaction. She took a few seconds to regain her composure before speaking.
"This is a private matter between me and my fiancé. Unless you have any other questions that are related to the magazine, then let's call it a night. Thank you all for coming – I appreciate your support!" she replied before stepping off the stage. Daniel shielded her from the crowd of paparazzi as they headed out of the building and into the awaiting town car.
"You were great tonight. I don't think I could've done it better myself and this was only your first time," he smiled at her in awe. "Really? I was so nervous I thought for sure I'd do something stupid like forget to thank Lindsay or knock down the podium or something," she joked.
"Betty, you were amazing . . . the way you handled the press at the end . . . so polite and composed . . . you never lost your cool or freaked out. Truthfully, I was ready to pommel them . . . but you did the right thing. You just surprise me more and more every day," he gave her a look of admiration as he grazed his fingers against her cheek and softly kissed her. "You okay?" he wondered, noticing a distance between them.
"Mmm-hmm – I'm fine," she quickly feigned assurance. "You sure? The press was really rough on you," he made certain she wasn't just avoiding him. "Daniel, I'm fine. We've talked about this before – hell, I've helped you get away from them, made sure you didn't stick your foot in your mouth and start chewing, that you showed restraint at times. I know how brutal they can be. It's just the price of being in the industry," she reminded him that she wasn't clueless as they got out of the car.
"You're right. I'm just worried about you. You've had a really big night and have been working so hard the past two weeks, despite what Dr. Andrews told you," he explained his concern. "Daniel, I'm okay. Really," she told him as they walked in the front door of their home.
"All I want to do now is take a long hot shower and go to bed," she removed her LouBoutins and motioned for him to unzip her dress, before pushing her aching feet up the stairs. "Don't forget –" Daniel began. "To tape saran wrap over my stitches. Yeah, I know," she scoffed, amused at how attentive he had become of her post-op care.
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As Betty shampooed her hair, she recalled the events of the evening, her mind sticking on the last questions of the reporters. She loved Daniel more than anything, but was it really fair of her to marry him knowing she might never be able to give him a child of his own to hold and raise? She rinsed her hair, closing her eyes, letting the warm water trickle down her face as her fears flowed through her head.
She didn't think Daniel realized how much her chances had decreased since having the miscarriage. How much they had increased in having another ectopic pregnancy. She'd tried not to think about it. She couldn't even talk about the loss of their child anymore, much less deal with this.
But the time of their wedding was getting closer . . . she couldn't put this off much longer. She ran the soapy loofa over her skin, careful not to irritate the surgical site. She couldn't tie him down like that – not when Daniel had shown how much he had wanted to be a father . . . with DJ . . . with their own unborn child . . .
But she didn't want to let him go . . . she couldn't lose everything . . . not now . . . not all at once . . . She slumped to the bottom of the tiled shower floor, the water of the stainless head washing away the tears that continued to stream down her face.
"Hey, babe – I just wanted to get my stuff out of the closet and change . . ." Daniel came in the bathroom and suddenly noticed Betty huddled in the bottom corner of the shower with her head in her hands. "Betty! Oh my god! Are you okay?" he exclaimed, turning off the water although unable to avoid getting soaked in the process.
He grabbed a towel and sat down next to her, wrapping it and his arms around her as she proceeded to cry. "Did you hurt yourself?" he asked, gently lifting her chin up. She slowly shook her head, before burying it back in his chest. He kissed the top of her wet head and breathed deeply, unsure of how to help her.