“I realized something…”
“Realized what?” He asked when I hadn’t finished.
“I can’t give up my dream.” I choked out the words.
He halted his approach, his hands dropping. “Your dream?” He whispered.
“Having children of my own. Experiencing pregnancy. A family of my own.” A knife slid an inch into my chest at the devastation on his face. At the betrayal. And I fucking hated myself. Wanted to rip my own tongue out. But…it was the only way he’d believe me. The only flaw he’d ever seen himself as having, when in reality it didn’t even matter to me. “When I saw you carted off that field...I realized I wouldn’t even have a piece of you if the worst happened.”
Liar. Wench.
But I had to save him.
“You said…” he shook his head. “About adoption—”
Oh, God, he could see right through me. He wouldn’t take this without a fight...
“Think about that wall in my home, Roman. We just saw it on Thanksgiving,” I said. “The one that charted our heights?”
His eyes widened. “Adopted children grow just the same.”
“It’s not the same,” I cried, unable to hold on to my emotions anymore as my soul fucking crumbled. I had to make him believe me. Had to. Had to. “If I stay with you, I’ll never be able to measure a little girl with your eyes and my hair. Or a little boy with your confidence and my creativity.”
Roman stumbled back a few steps, his hand flying out to the lip of the island like he needed the stability to keep himself upright.
That knife slid in another inch, slicing into my heart with a white-hot pain as I saw it in his eyes.
The acceptance.
The belief.
That he wasn’t good enough for me.
That he couldn’t give me everything I ever wanted.
When it wasn’t further from the truth—all I wanted was him.
He was too good for me.
And he wasn’t safe if I stayed here.
I couldn’t pretend Rick wouldn’t do this the next game Roman was in…not twenty-four hours away. I couldn’t cower and allow Roman to get hit again, for Rick to pull another block, or worse…
To save Roman, I would destroy myself.
Destroy him.
Because he would hate me after this, I knew that in the depths of my fractured soul.
But he’d be alive. He’d be safe.
“Why are you doing this,” he whispered, his voice low and rough.
I twisted the ring off my finger, the move alone carrying a weight I knew would drown me as I set it down on the island. “I’m sorry,” I said, and fucking meant it. “I can’t put myself in another situation where I give up what I want most.”
God, he would hate me after this.
I wasn’t only losing the love of my life. I was losing my best friend.
He’ll heal. He’ll live. That’s all that matters.
And what would I do? Could I recover from this? What would the next demand from Rick be? I shuddered at the thought, knowing he could demand anything from me now, and I’d succumb. Now that I knew just how badly he could hurt Roman.
“You’re scared?” Roman’s eyes were locked on mine, and I tried to blink away the fear coating my skin.
“It’s over, Roman,” I said, clearing my throat and raising my chin ever so slightly. “Once I sell my next piece, I’ll send you a check.”
He scoffed. “For what?”
“For all the clothes and food and…” A sharp breath stung my chest. “Everything you did for me.”
His gaze narrowed as he shook his head. “Don’t fucking bother,” he said, and I hated the bite in his tone.
But he needed to be there. At that level of anger. Anger would prevent him from looking too closely. From seeing past my walls and discovering the fraud I was.
That couldn’t happen.
“Roman I—”
“Get out,” he said, his words colder than I’d ever heard them. He laid his palm over the ring on the island.
“I’ll come back for my things later,” I said.
“Just go, Teagan. Leave before I say something I can’t take back.”
I backed toward the door, my soul bleeding from the wound I’d hand-delivered to it.
I love you.
I’m sorry.
“Goodbye, Roman,” I whispered with my hand on the knob.
He didn’t look up from where he still stood by the island, even when Walt hurried to his side, some animal instinct alerting him to the danger I’d posed to his owner.
Roman didn’t part his lips for any more words.
Didn’t move, as I opened the door and shut it behind me.
And an hour later, long after I’d fallen into the bed at my apartment, I still hadn’t managed to stop crying.
A small relief pooled at the edges of my pain, knowing Roman was safe. Knowing I’d done what I could to protect him in the only way I knew how—which was to crush us both.
Me: It’s done. Leave him alone unless you’re protecting him on that field.
I typed the text to Rick, my eyes glistening with tears. I tucked my head against my pillow, breathing in Roman’s scent from the last time he’d slept over, and mourned the moment it would be washed clean.
I’d pulled out every doubt, and insecurity Roman had ever had about our relationship—about his inability to have children.
Heartless.
Cold.
Wench.
Rick: Smart girl.
I scowled at the return text and tossed my phone to the other side of the bed, burying my head in my pillow as I bawled and cringed and felt every inch of my soul die.
But Roman would be safe. Rick wouldn’t be able to doubt it, not when he saw Roman. Because Roman believed it.
He’d be safe.
That’s the only solace I could take in this dark, brutal situation. And I could spend the rest of my forever convincing myself that I'd done the right thing.
Even when I felt like a part of me had died.
19
Roman
Three fucking weeks—that’s how long it had been since Teagan had come to her senses and walked out on me. Three weeks of complete, abject misery.
Not that I blamed her.
Who the hell would ever settle for less than they deserved? That was something I never wanted for her. I’d rushed things. I’d missed the signs. For fuck’s sake, the woman had moved out, and I’d proposed?
The worst of it was that I’d taken advantage of her emotional vulnerability to play out my own dreams while forsaking hers.
“I still feel like this is a miscommunication of some sort,” Mom said through the speaker in my car as I zipped through traffic on my way to the stadium.
“It’s not.” I pulled onto the highway and cursed at the traffic. If one thing could go my way right now, that would be great.
“Well, I talked to her mom and we both—”
“No!” I cut her off and merged into traffic. “This isn’t up for discussion. We’re not kids anymore, Mom. This isn’t something that you can fix by having a playdate or work it out with Mrs. Hall. Teagan wants things that I can’t give her.”