Chapter 35
THIRTY-FIVE
F ord
Cedar Bluff comes into view. Our old spot, the one with the best view of the coastline below. From up here, the ocean looks endless. Today it’s calm and glassy, a vast pool of blue that disappears into the horizon.
She’s already here, sitting on a flat rock, knees pulled up to her chest. Her long hair is tied back in a ponytail, her face is bare, and she’s still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.
A long time ago, she told me this place made her feel like she could breathe. Now she looks like she is suffocating.
The sight of her twists something inside me and a familiar tension threads into my shoulders. I hate that part of me still aches for her while another part is still filled with anger and betrayal.
She must hear me as I approach, because she suddenly turns and looks over her shoulder. “Hi,” she says, her voice sounding small and hesitant.
I don’t answer right away. Instead, I drop onto the rock beside her, keeping a safe distance. We sit like this in silence, the sun warming our backs, the air clean and still. Seagulls float far below, their cries faint against the breeze.
“How’s your mom?” I ask eventually, realizing one of us needs to break the silence if we’re going to get anywhere.
Her arms tighten a little around her legs. “She’s going to be okay, thanks. It’s manageable…just going to take time.”
I nod, relieved. I stare at her profile, her gaze still locked on the ocean, and the words slip out before I can stop them. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Her head turns. Our eyes lock. “I’m so sorry, Ford.” She swallows hard. “I did what I thought was right at the time.”
“What does that even mean?”
“You’re mad, I know, and I don’t blame you. I should have told you?—”
“But you didn’t,” I interrupt, voice raised. “Tell me the real reason, Lan. Tell me why you didn’t tell me you were pregnant with our child. Tell me why you just disappeared.”
She stands suddenly, the tension between us breaking wide open as she puts space between our bodies.
I stand too. “I left because I knew what would happen. You would’ve given everything up for me.
For us. You would’ve thrown away everything you were building—Cove, the life you dreamed of.
I knew how important that was to you, to build something that was more than what you came from.
I didn’t want to get in the way of all of that. ”
“It wasn’t your decision to make,” I argue.
“Maybe you’re right, but I knew that you didn’t want kids. You didn’t want a family.”
My eyes widen. “I didn’t want kids?—?”
“It’s the truth,” she says, her voice louder now, the tears filling her eyes even as she tries to fight them back. “You didn’t want kids. You made it clear.”
I stare at her, confused. My brain is a storm, trying to rewind the years. “What the hell are you talking about, Landyn?”
She lets out a broken sigh. “You had all these plans. The 5-year plan. The 10-year vision. You were so laser-focused on it, and I was barely even part of it anymore, let alone a baby. I asked you about kids. I told you that I wanted to be a mom one day, that it was important to me. You said maybe, one day, but that you weren’t really sure you even wanted to be a dad.
And I understood, even if it broke my heart a little.
I know you had a hard time growing up, that your dad wasn’t good to you. I know how much that impacted you.”
I feel like the air’s been punched out of me. She turns back toward the water, wiping at her face with the sleeve of her hoodie.
“You thought I wouldn’t have wanted her?” My voice is hoarse. “That I would’ve walked away?”
“No. I thought you would’ve stayed,” she says without looking at me. “And that it would’ve killed you inside to give up the life you were building. You would’ve done it out of obligation. Not love.”
“I wouldn’t have felt trapped, if that’s what you’re trying to insinuate,” I say fiercely, my voice rough with emotion.
“I would’ve been a dad to our little girl, Landyn.
I would’ve stepped up. I would’ve shifted my whole goddamn life plan if that’s what it meant to be with you. To raise our daughter together.”
Her breath hitches, but she doesn’t look away this time. “And that’s exactly what I was afraid of.”
I stare at her. “What does that mean?”
She’s crying again now, tears slipping quietly down her cheeks. “You would’ve dropped everything, Ford. You would’ve walked away from Cove, from all the things you were building for you and your brothers. I knew that meant everything to you. Don’t you see? I couldn’t let that happen.”
I shake my head, trying to catch up with the storm of her logic. “You think I would’ve regretted choosing you? Choosing her?”
“I think,” she whispers, “you would’ve buried that regret and lived with it quietly because that’s who you are. You take care of the people you love. You never let anyone down even if it means letting yourself down.”
I pace a few steps away, heart pounding so hard it drowns out the crashing waves in the distance. “So, you just made the choice for me?”
“I made a mistake, I know that now, but, you were trying to build a better life—not just for you, but for your brothers. You carried so much on your shoulders. And I knew what you’d do the second I told you.”
“You thought I’d walk away from it all.”
“I knew you would.”
I turn back to her, my voice cracking. “And I would’ve, Landyn. In a heartbeat. None of that mattered if it didn’t include you.”
Her lips tremble, and she shakes her head. “I couldn’t let you sacrifice that. I couldn’t watch you walk away from it all when I knew how much it would change your life.”
There’s silence again. Heavier now. Raw. I close my eyes and press my fingers to my temples, trying to breathe through the ache spreading in my chest. “You didn’t trust me to choose you. That’s what kills me.”
She looks like she’s about to shatter. “I didn’t trust myself to let you.”
I don’t know how to make sense of all of it. Of the love still in her eyes. Of the years that we lost. Of the little girl I didn’t know existed. Of everything we could’ve been. “I missed six goddamn years, Landyn,” I bite out, the words tasting like blood. “She doesn’t even know who I am.”
She flinches, her arms tightening around herself. “I know.”
I step closer, my hands fisting at my sides. “I don’t know how I move past this.”
Her eyes flash, brimming with tears. “I took everything. I know that. I know, Ford.”
“You robbed me—of her, of being a dad. Of knowing her laugh, her favorite color, the things she’s afraid of.” My voice cracks, low and guttural. “You made that choice for me because you thought I couldn’t handle it.”
“I—,” she says, her voice just as raw. “I knew you’d give up everything you’d worked for. Because you loved me. And I loved you too much to let you do that.”
Her words slice me open. I look away, the truth hitting me like a freight train. She’s right. I would’ve walked away from Cove. From every damn thing I’d worked so hard to build, everything I’d bled for with my brothers. I would’ve thrown it all into the fire to be with her. To raise our daughter.
Because she always mattered more to me than anything else.
I look back at her and she’s already watching me, her face crumpled with pain.
“It was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do,” she says quietly. “Walking away from you. Carrying her. Raising her without you. There hasn’t been a single day in seven years where I didn’t miss you. Where I didn’t want you. I was miserable without you, Ford.”
We stare at each other, hearts exposed, and in that moment, I don’t know if I want to pull her into my arms or fall apart at her feet .
“Jesus, Landyn.” I rake a hand through my hair. “You had my heart since we were 20. You really thought I wouldn’t have wanted to be there for you? For her?”
“You had my heart, too.” Her face is blotchy and wet with tears. “But I couldn’t risk making you hate me. I couldn’t trap you. I couldn’t ruin you.”
“I was in love with you.” Silence drops like a bomb between us. “I still am,” I say finally, my voice breaking. “Even though I’m mad as hell at you.”
Her eyes squeeze shut.
“I don’t know if I can ever forgive you,” I admit, my chest splitting open. “But I don’t think I know how to stop loving you either.”
“I didn’t date,” she says suddenly, swiping the tears from her cheeks. “I moved away and focused on Poppy. I didn’t want anyone else. I couldn’t even think about it.”
Her words wind around my ribs like a vice. I blink at her, stunned. “You didn’t…?”
She shakes her head. “How could I when I never wanted anyone but you? I still don’t.”
For a second, all the anger, the heartbreak—it twists into something else.
Something deeper. Something that makes me want to drop to my knees and beg for the years we lost. I move toward her before I can stop myself.
“You think I would’ve been ruined by her?
By you?” I murmur. “I would’ve been made by you. ”
She breathes in sharply, tears clinging to her lashes.
“You built Cove,” she whispers. “You did it. It’s incredible. I didn’t want to be the reason you walked away from making that happen.”
Taking a deep breath, I pull myself back together. “Don’t you see? You were always the reason I wanted more.”
Landyn looks away first. The silence between us is softer now, but still heavy with everything we’ve said and everything still to come.
I let out a breath. “So where do we go from here?”
She hesitates, sniffles. “You mean…with Poppy?”
I nod. “One step at a time. I don’t need answers about us right now. But I want to know her. I need to know her.”
She smiles for the first time, her eyes lighting up. “She’s amazing, Ford. Smart. So curious. She loves animals and books and…she’s got your eyes.”
That knocks the breath from me more than anything else has today. “Does she…does she ask about her dad?”
“Not in the way you’re thinking,” she says quietly. “She knows families look different. But…yeah. Sometimes.”
I rub the back of my neck, grounding myself. “I want to meet her. However you think is best. We can take it slow. You don’t have to drop everything and throw me into your lives.”
Landyn lets out a laugh. “Good. Because she’s got a lot of questions when she meets new people. She might interrogate you.”
“I can handle a 6-year-old,” I tell her. “Maybe we start with something low-key. Ice cream, or the beach. Somewhere she’s comfortable.”
“She’d love that,” Landyn says, finally meeting my gaze again. “How about Saturday? They have story time at the library. It’s one of her favorite things.”
“Saturday,” I repeat, nodding. “It’s a date.”
Her brows lift.
“I mean…with her,” I add quickly. “Not—not that kind of date.”
She smiles, but it’s faint. Unsure. Still, it’s a start and right now, that’s all I’m ready for.