Cleo's smile is captivating. Her face is gorgeous and the glow that radiated from her may have been partially related to her pregnancy, but I have little doubt that it's always a part of her. She's everything that a woman could strive to be and when I thought she was Maisy, I didn't feel threatened. I only felt an obscure sense of gratitude to the universe that Dane had walked into my life.

"You said that you've been looking for her." I motion towards the portrait with my hand. Dane had set it back on the easel after he took my smartphone from me to find a picture of Maisy so I could compare it to her sister.

"I have been," he says quietly. "We had a disagreement."

"A disagreement?" I ask even though I'm not sure I have a right to know anything about Dane's relationship with Maisy's sister. I'm still basking in the relief I feel knowing that he's not having a baby with his ex-girlfriend.

His gaze roams over my face. "Maisy and Cleo had a disagreement. I was pulled into it. We lost touch after that."

In an age of smartphones, social media and email, it's hard to imagine anyone losing touch. There has to be more to it than Dane's letting on but I'm too exhausted and feeling too protective of myself to push. "I'm sorry to hear that. It seems as though Cleo was important to you."

"Cleo was like a big sister to me." He rubs his left bicep with his right hand. "She looked a lot different when I knew her. Her hair was shorter and blonde. She looks happy in that portrait."

"She was very happy."

He rakes his hand through his hair. "I'm glad. I miss her."

I don't respond because I'm unsure of what I could offer that would provide him any comfort at all. I have questions about what transpired between us just before he realized I drew Cleo.  He dropped to his knee and proposed to me under the weight of what he thought was a shared child between the two of us. He professed his love for me and now in the shadow of all of that, his mind is focused on that delicate, yet strong, woman I met in the museum. It's a woman who is a part of his past, a direct connection to his last love and someone he obviously cares for deeply.

I may have gotten out of this with my relationship with Dane still intact but something tells me that now that he's gotten a glimpse into Cleo's future, he's not going to rest until he finds her.

***

"I know that you have a lot of questions." His lips flutter against mine. "I want to answer those."

I nod as I reach up to grab hold of the front of his blue dress shirt. "I need you to answer those, Dane."

His mouth finds mine again but this time the kiss is deeper, lush and fueled by more than a need to quiet my lingering doubts. "I wish I could stay and make love to you. I need to be inside of you."

My body may be craving the same thing as his but I'm grateful that he doesn't push for more. I tap my hands against his hard chest. "We'll talk soon and then we can be together."

The corner of his mouth slides into a smile. "I love being with you, Bridget. I want to be with you now."

I know that his need to touch me and feel my body against his is rooted in the fact that he's been through the emotional wringer this afternoon. Since he spotted me on the street, he's gone from believing that we were having a baby to learning that Cleo is.

"I need to get to work but I can come over tomorrow morning when I'm done."

I want to tell him that I'll be waiting for him but I can't. I may have escaped virtually unscathed from my mistaken belief that he was having a son with Maisy, but I feel beaten and battered emotionally. I need time to digest everything that he's said, and the things he hasn't said to me today.

"Why don't you call me after your shift?" I offer. "We can talk then."

He eyes me before he lowers his mouth to mine for one last, lingering kiss.

Chapter 8

"I'm sorry, Bridge," Vanessa says softly as she leans forward in the chair. "I honestly thought it was Maisy."

"I know." I tap the top of her hand with mine. "I saw a picture of Maisy. Dane found one online. She looks a lot like her sister."

She pulls her hand back to fumble with the edge of the paper coffee cup. "I know it was Maisy that I met here in the cafeteria that day. Dane's mom introduced us."

I'm tempted to ask how exactly Dane's mom, Anja, framed that introduction. Dane hasn't spoken that openly about his relationship with his mom other than to say that she's important to him. Judging by the fact that she was in the hospital with his ex-girlfriend for an appointment, I'd wager a bet that Maisy is still important to her.

"I guess that was Cleo I saw in the corridor with Anja the other day?" She furrows her brow.

I half-shrug my shoulder. "You're sure you saw them together? You said Dane was there too, right?"

I want to sound as nonchalant as I can about this. I had wanted to ask Dane about why his mother would be hanging out with his ex-girlfriend or her sister, but I don't have enough insight into his family dynamics to throw the question at him. I also didn't want to delve into the topic of Vanessa seeing Anja and Cleo with Dane until I could get confirmation from Vanessa. After I took Vanessa at her word about the portrait being Maisy, I realized that her perception may be skewed by the fact that she barely knows any of these people.

"Dane wasn't with them," she clarifies. "I saw him about an hour after I saw them. Actually, it could have been around the same time you have your appointment with Ben."

I feel relief wash over me. I remember that day vividly. Dane had kissed me in the bustling lobby of the hospital before I'd rushed to my appointment. It was only a few days ago in literal time but because of everything that's happened, it feels like it was years ago now.

"Did you know that Cleo was pregnant?" I stop to consider what I need to say next. "I was just wondering why you didn't mention that to me if you thought she was Maisy."

She leans back in the plastic chair pulling a faint cracking sound from it. "Cleo wasn't pregnant when I saw her the other day."

"You're sure?" I ask because I'm not a medical expert.  I can't tell if a woman is six or eight months pregnant. I know that Cleo's belly was round enough to be visible once the blanket was pulled down but when I'd first started to draw her, I hadn't noticed it because of the oversize purse on her lap so it wasn't part of the finished portrait.  The purse, she had been clutching in her hands, was there in the portrait.

"I'm absolutely sure," she chuckles softly. "We get a lot of pregnant women coming into the ER, Bridge. I know one when I see one."

***

"I'm looking for someone."

The woman sitting behind the reception desk pops her head up until her gaze meets mine. "What can I help you with?"

"Can you tell me if there's been a patient named Cleo Trimble admitted to the hospital?" I rub my hand over my eyes. I could have asked Vanessa to check for me but that would have only complicated things more.  I didn't want to drag out our conversation about Maisy or her sister. I want Vanessa's focus to drift back to her upcoming wedding, not the complicated dynamics of Dane's ex-girlfriend's family.

"There's no one by that name registered." She doesn't look up from the computer screen in front of her. "Do you want me to try a different surname? Sometimes patients are admitted under the name that their insurance has listed."