It would be someone I made up and all the while the real Dara would be standing there, unloved. I can’t do that to myself. And I can’t do it to my child. I want to be a woman and a mother I can be proud of first. Before anyone else. I have to love and be at peace with myself, and you know what? I am. I liked me just fine. Was I perfect? No, but I was happy in my own skin and my family and friends accept that person.

Someday there’ll be a man who’ll accept me, too. Until then, I’d rather be alone and true to myself than with someone who places conditions on his ability to love and accept me.”

So stunned was he by her declaration that he stood while she walked quietly toward the door. When he realized she’d already slipped by him, he whirled around, calling her name, the lump in his throat so huge that it came out as a mere croak.

But the door had already closed quietly behind her, leaving him standing there so numb…and broken.

Dread consumed him. The realization, the true realization of just what he’d done threatened to completely unravel him. Oh, God. What had he done?

His legs buckled and would no longer sustain his weight. He staggered back onto the couch and slumped forward, burying his face in his hands.

She was right and so very wrong all at the same time. The realization was as clear to him as if someone had hit him over the head with it.

He’d destroyed something infinitely precious and he’d never forgive himself for it. He didn’t deserve forgiveness.

Dear God, was this what he’d done to her? She’d come into his office and delivered the news of her pregnancy in a dispassionate fashion, as if she were telling him that she had a dentist appointment or that she was buying new shoes.

Where she’d once jumped up and down and squealed her joy over her cousin’s pregnancy and vowed she’d do the same over her own pregnancy, she’d related the news with dead eyes and