Emily's Daughter by Linda Warren Page B

daughter?”
    “Yes, but I never saw her. I only heard her crying. I asked to hold her, but they wouldn’t let me.” She spoke matter-of-factly, and that angered him.
    He got to his feet, his body rigid. “You gave our daughter to strangers? ”
    “Yes.”
    His eyes narrowed. “How could you do something like that? How could you? She was our flesh and blood. Didn’t that mean anything to you?”
    “Do you think it was easy for me?” she snapped, her control slipping. “I was seventeen, alone and scared.”
    “You weren’t alone. You had your parents.”
    “My mother was having problems with her own pregnancy. They couldn’t help me.”
    “That’s bull and you know it,” he shouted. “You just wanted to get rid of it as fast as possible so you could get on with your life, your big career.”
    She rose to her feet, her eyes enormous with the emotions that consumed her. “How dare you! You weren’t here, so don’t tell me how it was. You didn’t have to live through the horror and pain of hurting your parents. And you have no idea what it was like to give birth all alone in a cold, sterile room and have that child taken from youbefore you could even see her face. I live with that agonizing memory every minute of every hour of every day. I hear her crying and I ache to hold her. So don’t stand there and act holier than thou—because you are not blameless.”
    He paled under the attack and sank onto the sofa with a shattered expression. Emily wanted to say something, but any words she could have spoken were trapped between her need to console and her own desire for some sort of comfort from him.
    Jackson thought of all the years he’d wanted a child and all along he’d had a daughter. A daughter! He had a daughter. The words went around and around in his head until he was dizzy with a sensation of loss and despair. He wasn’t blameless, just as she’d said, and that intensified the feeling until he was afraid he might be ill.
    “Jackson?” Emily found her voice.
    Slowly he raised desolate eyes to her. “How could you give her away?”
    She bit her lip, striving to explain, but the only thing that came out was “It’s something I bitterly regret.”
    “Then why, Emily, why?”
    She turned away, unable to answer. She had asked herself that same question so many times and never found a reason, an excuse, that gave her any peace.
    “Why are you telling me now? Is this some sadistic way of getting back at me for what I did?”
    She whirled around. “No! I never intended to tell you at all. But last night, when you talked about having kids, I, ah, I wanted to tell you that you had a daughter. I couldn’t do it. Then later the feeling grew—and I have to admit it was purely selfish.” She drew a shuddering breath. “I have this need to share her with you. I’ve never done that with anyone.”
    Jackson raked both hands through his hair. “God, Emily, I’m having a hard time taking this in.”
    She knew that, and there was nothing she could say to ease his pain.
    “Why didn’t your parents help you?”
    “Remember, my mother was pregnant, and it was a difficult pregnancy. When she found out I was pregnant, too, she went into a rage, and the doctor said if she didn’t calm down, she could lose her baby. I was devastated. I didn’t want her to lose Rebecca.” She paused. “Later, she said I’d shamed and disgraced the family, and adoption was the only answer.”
    “Oh, my God.”
    “I was torn between my child and my parents. When I couldn’t reach you, I—” She choked back tears. Right now, those emotions seemed as real as ever.
    “So you agreed to give the baby away?”
    “Yes.”
    He stood and knew he had to go. This was something he didn’t know how to handle and he was struggling to keep his temper.
    “I came here tonight hoping we could salvage something from the past. But there’s nothing left except a deep, ugly void that keeps growing by the minute. I’m trying to