“Loving each other isn’t our problem, Rach,” he said tiredly. “It’s living with each other that is.”
He was right.
So right.
“I know,” I agreed shakily. “But that’s half the battle, isn’t it? I love you. I’m not sure I’ve told you that—”
“Not in eighteen years, six months, two weeks, and four days.”
Eyes flaring wide, I whispered, “You remember?”
“Of course.” He scoffed. “I’m a fucking idiot where you’re concerned, Rach. Ain’t you figured that out yet?”
Shivers rushed through me at his self-deprecating tone. The bitterness hurt, as did the realization that I’d brought this beautiful, strong man to his knees.
It hadn’t been out of selfishness, nor out of a desire to tame him. It had been self-preservation. Pure and simple.
Of course, nothing was simple about my past.
Neither was it pure.
“What’s your proposal, Rachel?”
“That while you’re away, whether it’s for six days or six months,” I managed to get out, “we talk. Every day. Every single day. Maybe even twice a day. And not about work. We haven’t done that in—”
“—eighteen years, six months, two weeks, and four days,” he drawled.
“We have a lot to discuss,” I concurred hoarsely.
“What if I end up riding home tomorrow?”
Well, that wasn’t a no, was it?
“W-We can still talk every day. You’ll just be down the hill and not across the country.”
Rex blew out a breath. “What’s the end goal?”
“For us to be more than what we are now.”
“Not concrete enough,” was his grim retort. “I want us to work toward being together or I’m out, Rachel. I’m telling you that I can’t do this anymore. In fact, I’m telling you that I won’t.”
The threat inherent in that hiss had me flinching.
This time without him had proven how badly I needed him to be a part of my life. It had also shown me how limited the interactions were between us.
If this didn’t work out, there’d be no one else for me. Not even if I saw him cozying up with another woman. Rex was it for me. He always had been. Always would be.
If this didn’t work out, then I loved him enough to let him go.
I just prayed that wasn’t how our story ended because I had a lifetime ahead of me, and I didn’t want that to mimic the recent past.
Baby or no, I had to protect him.
Baby or no, I needed to make sure that if this did work out, it was because we could be together and be happy as a couple first, then be a family second.
“Okay.”
“Okay?” he repeated.
Was that relief that made his voice shaky?
I had to hope so.
“Okay,” I confirmed.
“How long?”
“How long do I want us to do this for?” His answer was just a hum, so I mumbled, “For as long as it takes?”
He was silent. Considering. “Every time we call, we get to ask each other two questions, and we have to answer them. They don’t have to be life-changing, but they have to be answered.”
“I can do that,” I said softly. Deciding to bite the bullet, I continued, “Your dad stipulated in his will that we be together, in person, when you read his last wishes, but over the phone should fulfil that clause. When I’m back home, do you want me to read it to you?”
“If you want to,” he replied, his tone disinterested.
Having read through Bear’s Will & Testament, however, and knowing where he was, I figured he’d appreciate my suggestion once he realized what Bear wanted of him.
I wasn't unhappy about delaying the reading.
It was a nightmare waiting to happen.
“Where are you if you’re not at home?”
“A friend’s place in the city.”
“A friend?”
“Is that one of the two questions?”
He snorted. “No.”
I almost smiled. “Rory. You remember her, right?”
“From college?”
“Yeah.” I didn’t tell him that Rory was now Aurora. New York’s DA. For all I knew, he was well aware of that already.
“Why are you there?”
“We hadn’t caught up in a while. I’m currently drunk on sugar.”
“Ice cream?”
My lips quirked into a full smile this time. “Yeah.” I paused. “I wouldn’t have had an abortion, King.”
It was weird to call him that, but maybe he was right. Rex was the MC. He was business and he was an outlaw. King was the kid I’d fallen in love with. Wynter’s father.
“No?”
“No. S-She was made from our love. I could never have killed that. It’s why I had to go through with it all. Even though it was hell.”
“Why was it? Why was pregnancy so hard on you?”
My mouth twisted as I whispered, “Are you sure you want to have that conversation tonight?”
I thought he’d be angry at my evasion, but he merely rumbled, “That bad?”
“Oh, it’s the worst,” I said, my tone bizarrely bright.
He heaved a sigh. “Before I come home, I want answers.”
“You’ll get them. Just… when I’ve prepared myself?”
Telling his brothers had already been like getting a knife and dragging it down a long, badly healed scar, tearing it open again without pain meds and then letting it fester without antibiotics.
With him, it would be ten times more brutal.
Something else I wasn't looking forward to, even if he was right—it was time we got it out in the open.
“Okay.” He sucked in a breath. “It’s late there. You should get some sleep.”
It was late.
But…
Turning off the lamp, I clambered to my feet and rolled into bed. It was dumb, so dumb, but I placed a hand on my belly, promising that child that I’d do my best to make this work so he or she could have both parents living together, and I whispered, “Rex?”
“Yeah, Rach?” A soft laugh escaped him, so different than any of the other harsh sounds that’d come from him tonight. “I love you. Is that what you needed to hear?”
“It is,” I said gently. “I hope tomorrow goes well.”
“Do you want me to bring you up?”
I bit my lip. “Selfishly, yes, but I know that that’s a bridge I have to build on my own.”
“When did shit get so complicated, Rach?”
“I think we were born complicated, Rex. Speak to you tomorrow?” At his hum, I whispered, “Night.”
“Night.”
The whisper lingered in my ear, and I stared into the darkness, hand still on my belly, well aware that things were more complicated than he even knew.
But as I drifted to sleep, there was hope in my heart which was ‘day’ to the ‘night’ that came from the sorrow of knowing I’d pushed Rex away for good.
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