Love You Always (Buttercup Hill #5)

Chapter 33

CHAPTER 33

A rcher

Looking at my phone for the fifteenth time, I see no calls or texts from Ella. I’d give anything right now for an emoji. Anything.

I’ve been pacing on the sidewalk for the past hour, my stomach in knots, wondering how it’s going. And also thinking about what it means for the two of us if she can adopt a baby in the next few months or even weeks.

Walking back and forth on the same block, I’ve decided one thing for sure—no matter how much I love her, I can’t be the one to stand in the way of what she wants. She wants a baby. Which means she probably won’t want me, the man who can’t be a father.

I just can’t.

With my family obligations and work situation, I’d be exactly the kind of dad my own father was, and I refuse.

As I’m twisting my brain trying to come up with any other conclusion, the door to the skyscraper opens and Ella walks out. I can’t tell from her expression whether she’s happy or sad. She just looks…concerned.

I jog over to her and grab her shoulders in case she needs steadying. “How’d it go?”

Her expression doesn’t change. “Well, I guess. No, it went well. I think I’ll be able to adopt her.”

“That’s amazing. I’m so, so happy for you.” I pull her in for a hug but find her stiff instead of the usual way she melts against me. I want to be the guy who says the right thing. More than that, I want to be the one who does the right thing.

She backs out of my arms, still looking dazed.

“Hey,” I say, rubbing her arms. She feels cold. “What’s wrong? What aren’t you telling me?”

Ella shakes her head as though she’s knocking sense into it. She blinks a few times, but I’m not expecting what she says next.

“My lawyer says…there’s still a risk I could be denied as a single parent. It could work, but my past reputation…it could blow up. She actually asked if there was a chance I’d get back together with Callum and go through with the wedding.”

“Like hell you will.” My alpha male wants to beat his chest and stand on that asshole’s neck until it snaps.

“I know, it’s just…” Her brow creases, and it hits me.

The anguish on her face isn’t just disappointment. A part of her wonders if getting back with Callum is a good idea. She’s actually considering it. At least, that’s what I allow myself to believe.

My brain fills with conflicting thoughts, some about killing Callum for hurting her in the first place, but most of them about how I could be the hero in this scenario. Be the guy she needs.

Could I?

“Maybe there’s a way for me to help. We could get married. I could be the guy.” The words rush out before I have time to consider what I’m offering. Because I don’t just want to be a suit filler on a wedding day. I’d never want to be just that to her. But I’m not sure I could be more. I know my limitations. I’m my father’s son, as he spent my life telling me, and I’d only be an absentee father like he was, given my responsibilities to Buttercup Hill and my family. Ella and her baby deserve better.

She gives me a closed-mouth smile that looks more sad than happy. “Archer, no. I don’t want you as just a stand-in husband in my plan. I’d want…more. With you, I’d want it all. And I know I can’t ask that.”

Ask it. Please ask.

My inner voice begs her to want me for more than a stand-in. Maybe knowing she sees me as capable of more would push me to… No. I can’t.

“I know,” I say, resigned.

“It wouldn’t be fair. We’re so new and we haven’t built enough of a foundation yet. There’s no way I’d ask you to take this on when I know it’s not what you want,” she says, tears filling the corners of her eyes.

She closes her eyes for a moment, but when they open, there’s a question behind them. An invitation? Here is where I should tell her I’ve changed my mind, that I do want to have kids, that everything I thought I knew about myself is wrong.

But is it?

So much of me just wants to hear her say that we should do this together. I need to know how she feels about me as a part of her future, as the father of as many children as she wants to have with me. Not just as any port in a storm who would give her adoption application the best hope of going through. I can’t be a placeholder.

I also don’t want to lose her, so I offer what I can.

“I know I love you. And I know I want to help you.”

“I’m not sure that’s reason enough?—"

I interrupt with a finger over her lips. “I could. Even if we don’t know where this is going, I could give you that bit of security to help the adoption go through. I want you to have what you’ve always dreamed of.” I almost want it more than I want my own happiness. Almost enough to push aside my fears.

But not quite.

“Archer…” She gives me the barest of smiles. Like it’s hard. “I don’t want to be one more person in your life who needs you to be someone you don’t want to be.”

Her words break something deep inside me because she sees me more than anyone ever has.

Right now, it feels too tender and too painful for me to understand the full significance, but I do know I’ll never be the same from this point forward. I stare down into a deep abyss of the truth she’s already accepted—that this is the end of us. It causes the fight to leave my system. I feel a dull ache in my heart and a searing pain behind my eyes as I hold back the sting of tears I can’t let her see.

There’s no way for her to understand how deeply it hurts that I can’t be what she needs. So I stand here, stuck. “I love you. So much.” I want that to be enough.

Ella takes a step back and puts her hand up as though she’s blocking anything else I have to say. I feel the distance between us like a chasm neither of us can bridge. “I love you too, but we have no future. I have a baby to think about and I need to put that child’s needs before my own. Even if it breaks my heart. So maybe it’s time…to walk away.”

My animal brain can’t make sense of what she’s saying. Once again, I want to kick myself for being so bad at expressing my feelings because I’m not getting this right and I know it’s going to cost me.

“I don’t want that.”

“Archer, you know it’s the right thing to do.”

“The right thing?!” Of course it is, but I’m hurting too much to accept it. I don’t mean to raise my voice, but my emotions are ruling me the same as when I’m on the ice. I’ve never been good at controlling my anger, and right now I don’t have the benefit of a puck I can smack with everything I’ve got. “There’s nothing right about saying goodbye to you.”

I don’t know what to do with my sadness and frustration, so I do what comes naturally—I act like a dick.

“I’m not going to fight you, if that’s what you’re hoping for. I’m not going to beg you to stay.” I want to beg. I want to push back against the idea of her leaving with every ounce of strength I have. Or at least, that’s what my heart wants. My brain has other ideas. It digs in, stubborn as always.

She turns her back and for a moment I think she’s going to walk away without saying more. I’d deserve it. I know I’m being a dick, but I don’t know how to sugarcoat my feelings, never have. When she turns to face me, I see the hurt—it’s in the way her shoulders slump. The beautiful features of her face sag in sadness. That’s when I know I’ve gone too far.

“This. This is why I need to go.”

The sadness is etched in her features and I’m itching to wipe the lines away with the pads of my thumbs, like if I can smooth out her skin, I can erase the pain I’m causing. But I say nothing. I do…nothing.

“Okay,” she says softly.

“You want what you want, and you should have it,” I tell her, not seeing a path forward.

“Right…” She cocks her head to the side as though there’s more to my declaration than I’m saying.

“We’ve talked about this. I’m not having kids.”

“You don’t have to keep saying it. I get that you don’t want to have kids with me,” she says, voice hoarse. She nods and takes a step away from me.

My hands come to my face to try to block the anguish that wants to pummel me for my shortcomings. But it’s useless.

“I don’t want to have kids with anyone.” I hate that it’s true and I hate myself for not doing a damn thing to make it untrue. I feel myself pull away, almost as though I’m hovering above the two of us and watching the interaction unfold. Like I’m not a part of it. Like I have no ability to change trajectory.

I hate myself for that weakness. I hate my father for dooming me to be like him. Then I hate myself again for not having the spine to change those very things about myself that are keeping me locked in a cycle of unhappiness. Especially when I have the chance for something different, and I’m about to let her walk away.

“I’ll mail the clothes and stuff you left at my house, so you don’t have to come back there. Just easier that way. For both of us,” I say, feeling slightly better about being pragmatic.

Ella shrugs. “If that’s what you want.”

“It is.”

It’s not.

Not at all.

But if I’m going to give Ella the chance at her dreams, I need to get out of the way. And maybe I want that more than I want my own happiness. It sure seems that way.

As she turns to leave, I let out the breath I’ve been holding, releasing the last tether that’s been attaching me to hope. It breaks with a snap I feel deep in my chest—and what’s left of my heart crumbles with it.