Chapter 57
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Tori
I run out to the backyard, barefoot, chest heaving, the breeze whipping through my hair. I run towards the woods and keep going until my head feels light and my chest burns with exhaustion. I collapse to the ground, leaning against a tree and wailing into the empty space, my heart shattering.
In some sick twist of fate, I have found myself right back where I started—saying goodbye to the man I love.
Pregnant with his baby.
Alone.
How could life be so cruel?
They say life gives his hardest battles to his strongest soldiers, but when did I enlist? When did I sign up for the war? When did I agree to this endless cycle of pain? How have I found myself back where I started when I fought so hard to get out of it?
Maybe it was the day I fell in love with Noah. Maybe this is a test to see how strong and resilient I can be, and maybe it will all be okay, because surely lightning couldn’t strike twice in the same place?
I have to believe this will all be okay.
I rub my hand over the swell of my belly, and it brings me a small amount of comfort that I have a piece of Noah with me. I have to be okay. For her, for him. Guilt worms its way through me as I realize I did what I always did. I ran. I left him.
I hurry to my feet and make my way back to the house, needing to get back to him.
I push through the screen door, and there he is, pacing the room.
He stops, pain etched all over his face, and it makes me want to fold into him.
“I’m sorry,” I sob, racing to him, and he instantly pulls me into his embrace.
“I’m sorry,” he repeats.
‘I’m sorry I ran. I just, I just needed a second,” I say hurriedly, needing him to know I never would have left him. I just needed space to breathe for just a second.
He peppers kisses on top of my head as he says his words on repeat, “I’m sorry I lied, I’m so fucking sorry, darlin, it broke me keeping this from you. I never meant to hurt you.”
I know Noah. He lied to protect me, to protect our baby. I know it, yet I need to hear him say it. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t want to risk anything happening to our baby so early on.
I’d never have forgiven myself, Tor.” He pulls back, resting his forehead against mine, and I feel the tremble that runs through his hands as he says, “I promise you I tried to get out of this, and after this tour, I’m done, I’m leaving.
You and our baby are all I want, all I need. I’m done with that life.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, his words both reassuring and painful. I don’t want him to go.
“How long do we have?” I ask in a hesitant whisper.
“Sixty days.”
I wince, the number slapping me square in the face. Sixty days to make the most of each other. Sixty days to prepare for our baby together. Sixty days until I have to do another hard goodbye and prepare to do this all alone.