Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 90337 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90337 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
She swipes at her cheeks as her shoulders begin to shake, the sight of her breaking down banishing my fear.
Fuck fear.
I have to do whatever it takes to prove to her that I feel the same way, before it’s too late.
“You aren’t just valuable and important,” I say, my voice thick with emotion. “You’re irreplaceable, Elaina. You’re fucking irreplaceable, and I’m so fucking sorry.”
She gulps and her glassy eyes go wide.
She’s clearly shocked.
I can’t tell if it’s happy shock or just…shocked shock, but there’s no turning back now. It’s time to lay it all on the line.
“You’re clever and funny and sexy as hell,” I continue, throat loosening as I speak. It feels good to say these things, good to tell the truth after months of pretending I wasn’t missing her every damned day. “You’re insightful and hard-working and driven, but you’re also kind and generous, and one of the most honorable people I know.”
Her bottom lip trembles. “I am honorable. I have a code, Hunter, and part of that is keeping my promises no matter what. That’s the only reason that I didn’t tell you about the surgery. And yes, I should have probably walked back the promise once I realized what a big deal it was, but your mother was dying. Do you know how hard it is to tell a dying woman ‘no, lady, sorry, I can’t keep your secret?’ Super hard.” Fresh tears roll down her cheeks as she adds, “Super crazy hard. Even when you know the secret could hurt the man you love. I never meant to hurt anyone, least of all you, I just… I didn’t know what to do, and I fucked up. And I’m sorry, okay? I really am.”
I cross the last of the distance between us in two big steps, kneeling beside the lounge.
I try to take her hand, but she pulls away, shaking her head. “No, I can’t. I can’t do this. I have to stay strong. I’m going to be a mom to two tiny, helpless human beings any day now. I can’t afford to mess with you. I can’t afford to be broken again.”
“Then let me mess with you,” I say, my heart writhing like a wounded animal with pain and regret. “Let me do all the work. Let me take care of you and support you and…love you.” My voice breaks on the last words, but I force myself to keep going. “Let me love you until you aren’t broken. Until you know I can be the man you need me to be. Until you trust me enough to maybe…love me back again someday.”
Her tears fall faster. “I hate you,” she mumbles, swiping them away.
“I know. I’m sorry, love,” I say, resting a gentle hand on her thigh. “I’m so, so sorry.”
Her next sob becomes a hiccup. “I’m sorry, too. I hate you, but I should have told you about the babies. I just didn’t think you’d c-care. I didn’t think you liked me anymore, let alone loved me.”
“I’m so sorry.” I gather her into my arms, so breathlessly grateful when she lets me. I stroke a gentle hand over her hair as she sniffles against my sweater. “So sorry. I was an idiot. A selfish, stupid idiot. And so scared I should be ashamed of myself.”
“Well, of course you were scared,” she says between sobs. “You thought you might lose your mom, and I know how much she means to you.”
I cradle her closer, chest aching as she wraps her arms around me. I pull in a breath, forcing myself to speak my thoughts—and fears—aloud. “Yes, I was scared of losing her. But deep down, I think I was more scared of you not being who I thought you were.”
She pulls back, frowning.
“I was scared that you might have lied about more than the surgery,” I explain. “That everything between us was a lie, and I’d walked into a trap that was going to destroy me. Because losing who I thought you were, and what I thought we had…it felt like an annihilation. Like something I might not survive.”
Understanding softens her features. A beat later, she nods. “I get that. I felt the same way. All the way up here on the train and…for a long time after. I won’t lie, Hunter, you not being who I thought you were destroyed me for a while.”
I wince, hating that I did that to her. To us. “I’m so sorry.”
She sighs, but she doesn’t look like she hates me. And she’s stopped crying. “We’re too much alike. It’s a problem.”
I nod as I drop my gaze, misery churning like acid in my core, until she adds, “But maybe a problem we could work on in therapy?”
I look up, searching her face, hope surging as her lips curve the smallest bit.