Chapter 28
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chance
As I crawled into my bed, I shut down on the faint stirring of uneasiness. Instead I focused on the naked woman snuggling into me.
“Welcome back,” she whispered drowsily.
“Did you miss me?” I ran my hands over her warm, soft skin.
She took a couple of seconds to respond, as if she was about to fall asleep. “Tons. It’s cold out there.”
“Ah, so you just want me for my body heat,” I teased. “I see how you are.”
She ran a hand lazily up my chest, tucked her head into me, our legs tangling together. “Heat is nice,” she mumbled. “But it’s more because…” She went quiet, her breaths audible and even, and I thought she’d drifted off. “I love you, Chance.”
Everything in me tensed. Rowan’s breathing deepened. Her words had been a whisper, but I’d heard them clear as a bell.
My eyes popped wide-open, heart pounding. None of which she could discern even if she was partially awake. I didn’t move. Waited for my freak-out to pass.
I realized I was holding my breath, then expelled it noiselessly.
Rowan wasn’t conscious enough to notice her declaration had me crawling out of my skin.
I forced my eyes closed. Attempted to breathe evenly and calm my system.
I couldn’t seem to rein in the panic, couldn’t concentrate on my breaths because my brain had locked up.
Love? She couldn’t love me. We weren’t going there, couldn’t go there. We’d agreed and for good reasons. Valid reasons.
Co-parenting was a partnership. We needed to keep it more like a business relationship than a messy, emotional one. That was the only way it would work for the long haul.
Sleeping together tonight was a serious mistake. I never, ever should’ve let it happen again. I’d fucked up. I’d turned off the logical part of my brain and gone with what my body wanted. My body and possibly my heart.
That thought had my blood going cold with pure, unadulterated fear. I shifted to my back abruptly, involuntarily. Anxiety pumped through me, turning off my brain again, sending me the message I was in trouble, pushing me to escape.
My chest felt compressed as my heartbeat raced, and I couldn’t get a full breath. I broke out into a sweat. I had to get away before I lost my shit all the way.
I rolled to the edge of the mattress, unable to worry about whether I disturbed Rowan, and climbed out of the bed. Feeling as if the walls were closing in on me, I grabbed the sweats draped over my dresser and pulled them on as I hurried out of the room, down the stairs, and into my office.
Leaving the lights off, I sat heavily in the armchair, braced my elbows on my thighs, and ran my hands over my face, feeling the damp sheen of sweat on my forehead. I squeezed my eyes shut and begged my brain to snap the hell out of this.
Rowan
As I awakened, I took a moment to remember where I was.
Chance’s room. Chance’s bed.
My lips curved into a contented smile as I rolled over and reached for him. Not finding him, I extended my arm farther. The sheets on his side were cold, the blankets shoved back.
“Chance?” I said quietly.
Receiving no reply, I glanced toward the bathroom and could tell in the darkness that the door was open. He wasn’t in the bathroom.
Wondering what time it was, sensing it was nowhere near morning, I tried to remember where my phone was. Likely on the counter in the kitchen.
Confused, I rolled out of bed and stood. The air was chilly on my naked body. I shivered as I felt around for something to put on. I came up with Chance’s button-down shirt and snuggled into it gratefully. Then I frowned, wondering where the heck he could be.
Maybe Sam had come home after all?
The other three doors on the second level were all open, telling me no one was in them.
Note to self: If you’re trying to pull off a secret tryst in Chance’s bedroom, at least make it look like you’re in your room by closing the door.
With a private, lustful smile, I imagined sneaking to his room frequently. Now that we’d had another taste, I didn’t see us staying away from each other.
I stood at the top of the stairs and listened. The house was silent.
My smile faded, and alarm crept in with every breath as I went down the carpeted stairs without making a noise.
I took a right at the bottom, glancing into the formal living room as I passed, able to see by the light filtering in through the blinds it was empty.
On to the kitchen. The clock on the stove blared out that it was 3:07 a.m., a time that made no sense for anything other than being in bed.
My concern inched up as I went into the dark family room to make sure Chance wasn’t in there. I peeked out the door to the patio. It was deserted as usual.
It had to be that Sam was home, maybe upset, and he was in the basement with her, comforting her. I went back to the kitchen and opened the door to the basement. It was dark and silent, telling me my conclusion was wrong.
As I closed the basement door, I realized I hadn’t checked Chance’s office. It had two doors, one from the kitchen and one at the foot of the stairs. The kitchen one was closed, so I went around the central staircase again and found the other door open.
When I stepped inside, I saw him sitting shirtless in his armchair, legs stretched out on the ottoman.
His elbow was braced on one of the arms, hand supporting his head.
Thinking he was asleep, I gave myself a few seconds to appreciate the sight of him in the dim light from outside, shadows playing over his half-naked body.
“Hey,” I said quietly, not wanting to startle him.
I watched his chest rise slowly with a deep breath. Then his head came up as he finally looked at me. I realized he hadn’t been asleep. Concern spiked through me again.
“What’s going on?” I asked, walking closer.
I found a corner of the ottoman to perch on in front of him.
He dropped his legs to the floor, leaned forward, elbows on knees. My relief at finding him had disappeared as an alarm went off in my head telling me very clearly he was not okay, and it likely had to do with us.
“Talk to me, Chance,” I said, not bothering to keep my voice hushed. “Why are you down here?”
He stood, as if he didn’t want to be so close to me. I tried to let that roll off, but I was getting the distinct impression he’d slammed a metaphorical door shut with me on the outside.
“I’m sorry, Rowan. Tonight…” He shook his head as he paced. “That never should’ve happened. I shouldn’t have let it. I told myself we’re both adults, and it’s fine for us to find pleasure in each other, but it’s not going to work.”
My heart pounded as I realized speaking my feelings before I’d dozed off must have spooked him. “I freaked you out with the L-word.”
“We can’t do that.”
“Do that? Fall in love?”
“Right. We had an agreement.”
“We did, but we changed it. It seemed like both of us went into that willingly.”
“I let myself believe we could handle it, but there’s too much between us. Our priority has to be the baby.”
“I agree.”
“We can’t be lovers. We can’t fall in love. Love would ruin everything.”
That was so absurd I had to hold in a disbelieving laugh. He clearly believed that. “Tell me why.”
He dropped into his desk chair. “We have to focus on the baby,” he said again.
“And you don’t think we can do that if we love each other?”
“Love would take away our chance of making it through the next two decades on good terms.”
“I don’t understand, Chance. This is new”—I gestured between us—“and I’m not trying to rush us or make us something we’re not yet, but how can you say feelings between us wouldn’t be beneficial for our child? It doesn’t make sense.”
He popped up off the chair and paced again, his agitation growing. At the doorway, he reached up, grabbed the doorjamb, and held on, facing away from me. Silence stretched out, my heart racing as I waited, wondered what he could possibly say that would make sense.
Finally he let go of the doorjamb, turned halfway, leaned his back against the frame, and crossed his arms. “The problem is me, Rowan. Look at my track record. Every single relationship that should be strong is a mess. My daughter. My parents. My brother. Erin. I’m the weak link.
I’ve tried my whole life to be what my loved ones need, and I’ve fallen short. Every. Last. Time.”
“What?” I nearly shrieked. “You can’t really think that.”
His nonresponse told me he did.
I let that sink in, tried to comprehend it. In my opinion, it was crazy, but I was starting to see he actually believed there was something wrong with him.
I stood from the ottoman. “Your daughter is a teenager, Chance. Teenagers are impossible.”
“Yet you got along with her within five minutes of meeting her. Now she talks to you ten times more than she talks to me. I’m glad she has you,” he added quickly. “Damn glad she has you because I can’t fucking seem to do anything right when it comes to helping her.”
“That’s not true. She knows you love her. I think she feels awkward talking to you because you’re her dad.”
“I can’t change that. I don’t know what do to improve our relationship, and that’s what I’m fucking talking about. I suck at relationships. Every kind.”
“You do not,” I said with conviction. His parents had done a job on him.
It was now becoming clear how much their indifference, if that’s what it was, had burrowed deep into him and affected him.
“I’ve never met your parents, but from what I’ve heard, they’re self-centered, self-important people too blind to see what a wonderful person their son is.
And your wife…” I approached him and touched his forearm, still crossed with the other one as if to shut me out.
“Chance, your wife was an addict. That had nothing to do with you.”
“What if it did?”
“It didn’t.”
“You don’t know that.”
“What I know is you,” I said. “I know what kind of man you are, and I know she was a lucky woman to have you.”
“She didn’t seem to think so.” He pushed himself off the doorframe with a loud sigh. “I’m sorry. Forget about Erin. I know addiction was a factor. We’ve gotten off track.”
“It seems like we’re right on track.”
“The point is I’m messed up,” he said quietly, earnestly.
“I don’t have a good history with long-term relationships, and I don’t believe it would be smart for us to get closer.
We agreed on our goal, Rowan, and that’s raising our child.
I don’t want anything to endanger our ability to do that.
It’s better if we make it more of a businesslike relationship. ”
Businesslike? I was admittedly new to raising kids, but I was pretty damn sure it was anything but businesslike.
“We’ve basically been in a relationship for weeks. Everything but sleeping together. We spend most of our waking ours together, talk every day, eat together, work together… We’ve been doing a relationship, Chance.”
“I can’t knowingly continue that. Not with the stakes.”
I stared at him across the dark room. “So that’s it? You quit? Never mind what we started or how we feel?”
“It’s the smart thing to do.”
“Fuck smart, Chance. I can’t just unfeel things. I meant what I said. I love you.”
“I’m sorry, Rowan.” He said it with so much finality I wanted to slap some sense into him.
I wasn’t a violent person, had never hit anyone in my life, but if ever there was a moment that called for it…“You don’t even want to try?” I asked in disbelief.
He shook his head.
“The baby won’t be born for six months,” I said. “That’s a lot of time for a trial run.”
“And when it doesn’t work out, we still have a birth and a kid’s entire life to navigate.”
When it didn’t work out? I stared at him with my mouth gaping open. This side of him was…unexpected to say the least. “What if it did work out, Chance?”
He uncrossed his arms, shook his head. “Not going to go there.”
All I could do was stare at him as I tried to process his complete, utter cowardice. I’d known he was reluctant to get involved, but I had way underestimated his fear.
“You won’t even consider trying?” I finally managed. “You won’t let things develop slowly, naturally, and see what happens?”
He wouldn’t look at me now. I’d never, ever seen even a hint of this side of Chance.
I felt sick to my stomach, sheer, utter disappointment bubbling up like acid. And heartbreak? My chest throbbed with an ache that made it difficult to breathe. I felt as if my heart was literally cracking into pieces.
The plummet from blissful euphoria two hours ago to this… I hadn’t seen it coming. Not even a hint. This was a T-bone blindside accident on the driver’s side, crushing me on impact.
“You should go to bed, Rowan,” he said, still not looking at me. “Try to get some sleep. I’m not changing my mind.”
I narrowed my eyes and summoned the energy to spit out at him, “I have experience with hopeless situations. There was no hope for my Gram, but she had no choice in the matter. It’s the most grim, awful way to exist. But you…
You’re choosing to live without hope. That’s the most tragic, pathetic, disappointing thing I’ve ever heard of.
” My voice, low with conviction and emotion, cracked a little, but I wasn’t done yet.
“I can’t fix that for you, Chance. Only you can.
Sadly you’re not the only one losing out because of your cowardice. ”
He squeezed his eyes closed, the first sign I’d seen that he might have any regrets or second thoughts. I waited to see if he’d change his mind. Gave him the chance to backpedal. All he did was drop into his desk chair and swivel away from me.
I guess I had my final answer.
“I’ll find another place to live,” I said quietly, then turned and left him there alone. The way he wanted to be for the rest of his life.