CHAPTER FOUR #2
He exhales slowly, dragging a hand down his face. “Exactly.”
Something sharp twists in my stomach. I hate how easily he’s letting this go now. How unfair it feels after I spent months begging him—silently, stupidly—to just see me. To recognise my pain and heal it.
“You’re a joke,” I spit. “Who in their right mind rocks up with nothing to say, no preparation to at least try and undo some of the damage you caused?”
His jaw clenches like he’s holding back the words he really wants to say. “I’m trying not to make this harder for you.”
“Yet here you are.”
He steps closer without thinking then stops himself, like he’s remembered he’s not allowed to touch me anymore.
“I wanted to fight for you,” he admits quietly. “Every second of every day. But you left. You made a life here. And it was clear from your little letter that you wanted me to leave you alone.”
My mouth falls open. “You left first,” I snap back.
The words hang there, ugly and true.
Silence stretches between us, thick and suffocating. I hear laughter from inside the pub, the sound of people who don’t know what it costs to stand this close to someone you still love and hate them.
“I didn’t come to make it worse or point blame,” he says eventually. “I came to tell you I’m sorry. Properly. To tell you I see where I fucked up.”
My chest aches. “Seeing it now doesn’t change what happened.”
“I know.”
“And it doesn’t fix me,” I add, pressing my hand to my ribs like it might hold everything together. “I had to rebuild myself without you.”
He nods once. “I can see that.”
The scan photo crinkles in my grip, reminding me why this conversation can’t end the way my heart wants it to.
“So don’t . . .” I say quietly. “Don’t stand there like you’re giving me permission to move on. If you’re here, be here. Say what you came to say.”
He meets my gaze fully now, eyes dark, stripped of every title he wears so easily.
“I came to tell you I still love you,” he says. His voice doesn’t shake, but something in his eyes does. “And that walking away from you was the worst mistake of my life.”
My breath stutters, lodging painfully in my chest.
“And I came too late,” he adds. “So, I’ve got no fucking right to ask for you back, Eden.” He swallows. “I don’t want to hurt you anymore, so if letting you go is what you need . . . then I’ll let go.” His jaw tightens. “But, please, don’t cut me out of our child’s life.”
Those eight words hit harder than anything else tonight.
A tear slips free, trailing down my cheek before I can stop it. His eyes track it instantly, his hand twitching like it aches to wipe it away.
“I’d never do that,” I whisper.
Relief flashes across his face, raw and unguarded. He exhales slowly, like he’s been holding that breath for months.
“You look fucking good, Queenie,” he murmurs, his gaze burning into mine. “Pregnancy suits you.”
My heart fractures.
I’m about to tell him the truth—that I lied, that there is no one else, that there probably never will be—but the pub door opens.
“Your five minutes are up, biker,” Martha snaps.
I almost laugh at the sudden ferocity in her voice.
Kade looks amused too, arching a brow at me before checking his watch. “Is there a hotel nearby?”
“What for?” Martha bites.
This time, he doesn’t even try to hide his smirk. “Why do you think, Mart?”
“Martha,” she corrects. “Only friends call me Mart.”
“There’s a B and B ten minutes away,” I say quickly.
“Just for the night,” he adds, eyes back on me. “I’m exhausted.”
I bite my lower lip. “We’ve got a spare room.” Martha gasps like I’ve just betrayed her. “It’s one night.” I shrug weakly.
“For him to claw his way back in,” she snaps.
“I told him,” I say, forcing confidence I don’t feel. “I met someone.”
Martha seizes the lie instantly, grinning. “Good,” she strides past us, “because Peter’s worth ten of you.”
My heart slams violently.
I hadn’t planned on a name, let alone one that belongs to a real man.
“Peter,” Kade repeats, testing it. “Sounds . . . responsible.”
“Like I said,” Martha throws over her shoulder, keys jangling, “worth ten of you.”
I give Kade an apologetic look, my chest tight with too many emotions colliding at once. Him. The lie. The baby. Everything.
Inside, he pauses in the doorway, scanning the room. “Nice place.”
It reminds me painfully of the first time I brought him home and how nervous I was, how big he seemed in my small world. Standing here now feels like history folding in on itself.
I hang up my coat as Martha drops into an armchair, eyes never leaving him.
He shuts the door behind him. “Maybe we could order food?”
“We’re way past that,” Martha says flatly.
“You’re eating again,” he says, ignoring her. His eyes settle on me. “You look good.”
I rest a hand over the small swell of my stomach. His gaze follows instantly, pain carving lines into his face.
“I’m eating for two now,” I say quietly. “I don’t really have a choice.”
“Is it moving?” he asks, his voice barely above a breath.
“A little. Just bubbles.” I smile faintly. “Nothing that steals my breath yet.”
He inhales sharply. “Can I . . .” His hand hovers, waiting.
“No,” Martha snaps, diving up and stepping between us. “You don’t get to walk in here and act like you never left.”
“I didn’t leave,” he starts.
“You checked out,” she fires back. “When she needed you most, you shut down.”
“I didn’t handle it right,” he admits. “The news . . . the . . .” He swallows. “The attack. I see that now.”
“Well, you’re too late, so keep your hands to yourself.”
I should stop her, but I don’t. She stayed when I fell apart. She left the club for me. She earned this moment. And he needs to see how much he’s hurt us both.
“Tea?” I ask softly, heading for the kitchen.
Martha follows, shutting the door behind us. “What are you doing?” she hisses.
I grip the counter, lowering my head. “Seeing him brings everything back,” I admit. Her expression softens. “I don’t know what I’m doing, but I know I need to talk to him about the baby.” I fill the kettle. “We made this child together. I won’t shut him out completely. I won’t let Liam win.”
She wraps her arms around me from behind, pressing her cheek to my back.
“I love you,” she whispers. “Whatever you decide, I’m with you.”
When we return, Kade spins towards us, shoving his phone into his pocket. My chest tightens, and I picture the woman from the photo. Jealousy flares before I can crush it down. Because maybe that’s the real reason he doesn’t react with jealousy over Pete, my non-existent boyfriend.
Martha passes him. “Don’t upset her,” she mutters, heading upstairs.
He leans against the doorframe. “She hates me.”
“You earned it,” I say gently.
He nods once. “I know.”
We end up sitting in silence. Not the comfortable kind. Not the kind that means everything’s okay. The kind where every breath feels too loud and every movement feels like a mistake.
Kade perches on the edge of the chair opposite me, forearms resting on his thighs, hands loosely clasped. He doesn’t look at me at first. I stare at the mug between my palms, watching steam curl upward like it’s trying to escape.
Eventually, he clears his throat.
“How are you doing?”
The question is tentative, careful, like he’s afraid the wrong word might cause me to explode.
I swallow. “I’m fine.”
He nods, accepting it even though we both know it’s a half-truth. “And . . . the pregnancy?”
“It’s okay,” I say. “Tiring. Emotional. Weird.” I give a small shrug. “Normal, I guess.”
“I’m always wondering,” he admits quietly. “Yah know, how you’re feeling, if everything’s going well.”
“You only had to text,” I whisper bitterly.
“Yeah, and I was always going to.” He sighs heavily. “That’s a lie. I convinced myself you were better off without me. Both of you. After everything, I didn’t think I deserved a family. I still don’t.”
I don’t respond because I don’t have the energy to stroke his ego anymore. To convince him he’s deserving when I’m not even sure he is.
He huffs out a breath, almost a laugh. “I Googled it.”
I glance up despite myself.
“While you were in the kitchen,” he adds. “Apparently, it’s about the size of an avocado now.”
My lips twitch before I can stop them. “Tom said that earlier.”
“Yeah?” His eyes soften just a fraction.
“We’ve made some good friends,” I tell him. “They’re all excited about the baby.”
“That’s good. You’ve found a support network. It says it’s important,” he mutters, holding up his phone to explain his sudden fountain of knowledge.
Another stretch of silence falls, and I realise just how far apart we’ve grown. This is the same man I’ve told everything to for the last few years. The same man who’s seen me completely naked and done unspeakable things to my body. And here we are, struggling to make conversation.
“It feels real,” he says quietly. “Seeing the scan picture, seeing you growing.”
“Yeah,” I agree, “It’s happening, whether we’re ready or not.”
He nods slowly. “Did you get bad sickness?”
“A little. In the first few weeks. I thought maybe it was the stress of everything . . .” I trail off.
“And you did the test,” he says, like he’s trying to think back to those days when he was never around.
“Yeah. You were crashed out in the office.”
A look of shame washes over him, and he stares down into his drink. “And you didn’t think you could tell me?”
I shrug. “It was just another thing,” I mutter. “Another thing I didn’t want to bother you with.”
“Eden,” he whispers, his frown marring his brow, “you were never a bother. You could have told me everything.”
I almost scoff but fight the urge. I don’t want this to be an argument. “There’s no point going over it now,” I say, pushing to my feet. “It’s done. And now we’re here, having a baby together,” I pause, the pain twisting my heart, “Just like we always wanted.”
A knock sounds at the door before he can respond.
I freeze, listening to Martha’s footsteps as she rushes to answer it.
Her head pops around the corner. “Edes? Pete’s here.”
Kade straightens immediately, shoulders squaring in a way that’s instinctive. Defensive.
“Send him in,” I say, my stomach flipping violently.
Pete steps inside, his smile already in place until his eyes land on Kade. The smile falters. Just for a second.
“Oh,” he says. “Hey.”
Kade rises to his feet, polite but guarded. “Alright.”
The air thickens instantly.
“This is Peter,” I say, hating the way my voice wobbles. “My . . .” I hesitate just a beat too long then force it out. “Boyfriend.”
The word tastes wrong in my mouth. I wince slightly and flick my eyes to Pete, silently begging him to go along with it.
He doesn’t hesitate.
He steps closer, looping an arm around my shoulders with surprising ease, pulling me gently into his side. “Yeah,” he says easily. “Hi.”
Kade’s gaze drops to Peter’s arm. It lingers there a moment too long.
“Good to meet you,” Kade eventually mutters, offering his hand.
Pete releases me just enough to shake it. “You too.”
Kade nods towards me. “I didn’t realise I’d be intruding. If it’s not okay for me to stop over, I can—”
“It’s fine,” I blurt. My heart is racing now, panic fuelling bad decisions. I glance at Pete. “You’re staying tonight, right?”
The words hang there, heavy, dangerous.
Peter blinks then nods, a little stiff. “Yeah. Yeah, I am.”
Kade’s jaw tightens for a second.
“Right,” he says evenly. “Good.” He turns back to me. “I won’t get in the way.”
And I realise too late that the lie hasn’t protected anyone.
It’s only made everything hurt more.