Chapter 33
I should’ve stopped her.
When she ran to her room, packed a bag, and left me here alone, I should have fucking stopped her.
All night, I’ve been miserable. Waiting on her to get back, wondering if she’s coming back, or if we’re done for good.
The lock disengages and my head jerks to the entryway from my spot at the kitchen counter. I’ve been sitting here for the last hour, sipping coffee and debating calling her to ask her to come home.
Home.
Where she belongs.
With me.
“Hey,” Taylor says, quietly, looking as tired as I feel.
“Hi.” I swallow and take her in. Her hair is up in a messy bun and she’s wearing my old New York sweatshirt and a pair of shorts that barely peek out beneath the hem of the worn and oversized top.
I haven’t seen that sweatshirt in years and it gives me a thrill knowing she’s kept it. That she’s wearing it now. That she came back to me.
“Do you want coffee?” I ask at the same time, she says, “We should talk.”
“Sure.” We both answer at the same time and grin at how we’ve talked over each other.
She clears her throat and says, “Sure, a coffee would be great. I’m just going to put my bag in my room.”
Put my bag in my room.
The statement replays the entire time I take a mug out of the cabinet and wait on a fresh pour to brew for her. The fact that she still considers it her room despite how things ended yesterday gives me hope. Even though I’d rather it be our room, our house, our life.
One step at a time.
Taylor comes out and sits on the couch. Her hands are tucked into her sweatshirt sleeves. She looks so small huddled in the corner. It kills me to see her making herself smaller in preparation.
I make myself a second cup of coffee, deciding I need the extra caffeine after a restless night’s sleep and to buy time before this conversation. Hoping beyond hope it’s not the end of us.
“Thank you.” She takes the cup from my hand and crosses her legs, facing me when I sit on the opposite end of the couch.
“Thank you for coming back.”
Taylor sips on the coffee, looking at me over the rim before speaking. “Sorry I left like that.”
“No, I’m sorry for how I acted when I came home. It was a rough trip, but that’s no excuse for taking out my bad attitude on you.”
She shakes her head. “You had every right to say what you said.”
“That may be true, but I could’ve kept a cooler head.”
“We’ve both made mistakes.” She averts her gaze to the side.
I lightly touch her knee until she looks back at me, unable to resist touching her. “You’re not a mistake to me, Tay.”
“I don’t think you’re a mistake either. Or us. We were never a mistake.”
I didn’t know how much I needed to hear those words from her until they left her mouth.
“What did you want to talk about?” There’s plenty I want to say, but I want to give her the chance to get out what she needs to before we dive into what I want.
She stares into her mug and sighs before meeting my eyes again.
“I wish I had a time machine so I could go back to the day I walked out and wait. To talk to you. To be honest with you and tell you everything that was happening. All the thoughts cluttering my mind. Most of all, so that I could tell you how much I love you.”
Love. Not loved.
“I love you too, Tay baby. I never stopped.”
“I didn’t either.” She wipes a tear from the corner of her eye. “But I also don’t know that it’s enough.”
“Okay.” I brace myself, already knowing this will hurt like hell.
“I made a lot of mistakes that I want to apologize for. One of those is that I let you believe it was your family that tore us apart.”
“I wouldn’t blame you if it was. They were out of line in their treatment of you. They still are. That’s why I was pissed when I came back from New York.”
Her face scrunches in confusion. “Did you tell them we were together?”
“Theodore mentioned seeing you in pictures from Bark in the Park. It led to a conversation.”
“After all this time . . .”
“Nathaniel and Carter have at least moved on from thinking you only want my money. Now, they’re allegedly enraged on my behalf because you disappeared. Mother still thinks you’re bad news.”
“Constance never did like me.” A smirk graces her pouty lips. “As for your brothers, can they make up their minds? Either they want us together or they don’t.” She rolls her eyes.
“Do you want us together?”
Tears well in her eyes again but she smiles softly. “I do.”
The relief that hits is overwhelming. It feels like I’ve been holding my breath for years and finally let it go. “Thank god.”
“But, I don’t know if you’ll still want me when you know the whole story.” Her voice is so small, it cracks my heart wide open.
“Whatever it is. We can get through it.” If she’s worried about what happened while we were apart, I don’t care. I didn’t exactly live like I was married the entire time. I doubt she did either.
“Let me get this out first,” she begs. Nodding, I move closer to her on the couch, needing the feel of her touch to ground me. Her knee brushes my thigh, and I place my hand there again.
“I told you about my endometriosis, but I left something out.”
I wait patiently for her to find the words, lightly stroking her knee with my thumb.
“Endo doesn’t only cause a lot of pain and a heavy flow during my periods, it also comes with infertility issues.”
Everything in me freezes. “What does that mean?”
She clutches my hand as if her grip alone can hold her together when the devastation on her face tells me what comes next is even more heartbreaking.
Her voice cracks when she tries to talk again and it takes a beat before she can get the words out.
“It means I likely won’t be able to have children.
One of the treatment options is a hysterectomy instead of just a clean-up surgery. ”
If I weren’t so consumed with Taylor, I may have been more shocked by this admission, but right now, all I can think about is her.
Pulling her into me with my free arm, I wrap her in a hug and absorb her weight as her tears spill over and drip onto our joined hands.
My own eyes fill with unshed tears but this moment isn’t about me.
How long has she been carrying this weight on her own? It’s unfathomable.
After a few minutes, I pull back and ask, “Is that why you left?”
“You’ve always wanted kids.” Taylor shifts further away from me and won’t meet my gaze as she says it, like the words themselves are too hard to bear and that a look at me will send her over the edge.
“I’ve always wanted you!” Anxious energy floods my system. I need to move. Getting up, I pace by the windows.
I run my fingers through my hair as I process the words, then I turn back to her. She shakes her head but stays silent as tears stream down her face. “Jesus, Tay. Did you seriously think this would make me not want you? Not want a life with you?”
She can’t be serious right now. Doesn’t she know how much it wrecked me when she left and went no contact? Doesn’t she know I’d choose her over everything?
“I don’t know what I thought. It’s just—once I realized how real this was, how probable it was that I wouldn’t be able to give you the family you’ve always talked about, I freaked. I ran.”
And she never stopped running. Taylor Baker has been running her whole life. She slows down every now and then, but there’s never a time where she completely stops.
She draws in a shaky breath. “It was easier to break my own heart than to tell you that your dream for our life wasn’t possible.”
This woman. She infuriates me. Needing a beat, I face the windows again and draw in a deep breath to calm my racing thoughts and pulse.
Spinning back to her, I ask “And what? You thought running away and refusing to talk to me while also serving me divorce papers wouldn’t break my heart? That wasn’t taking my dream of our life away just the same? Maybe worse?”
“Hearing it out loud makes it sound worse.” Her bottom lip trembles when she looks up at me.
“No fucking shit!” She flinches, like the words physically hurt her, and I take another calming breath. She doesn’t need me shouting at her.
Crossing the room, I drop to my knees in front of her and take the coffee cup from her hand.
She tucks her trembling hands into the sleeves of her sweatshirt then wipes the tears from her cheeks, biting her lip nervously and refusing to look at me.
Hooking a finger under her chin, I force her eyes to mine.
“You’re the love of my goddamn life, Taylor.”
I can’t imagine what’s going through her head right now, what’s been going through her head all these years. To silently fight this disease—this battle—by herself. The tears I’ve been holding back fall. She starts to shake her head, so I palm the back of her neck and bring my forehead to hers.
Leaning back, I grip her hands and beg for her to really hear me. “A life without you in it is one thousand times worse. That dream for a family? For kids? It only worked if you were in it.”
“What are you saying?” She sniffles.
“I choose you. Over everything. I chose you on that beach when we said our vows. I chose you when you mailed me divorce papers. I chose you when you refused to answer my calls. I chose you with every single breath and thought and action ever since. I chose you when my phone randomly rang three years ago when you finally called only to ask for a favor.”
“Technically, it’s not a favor if I own half,” she smarts. A small smile finally touches her lips.
I smirk. There she is. Snarky as ever.
“I choose you. Always you.” I bring her hand to my mouth and kiss it. “Only you.” Flipping it over, I kiss her palm like I used to do when we were together. Then each finger. She sucks in a breath as tears fall down her cheeks. “It’s always been you, Tay baby.”
“I don’t deserve you,” she cries. I frame her face with my hands and wipe the tears from her beautiful cheeks. I’ve dreamt of this face more than anything else. Taylor Baker has been my first, my always, my forever.
“What if I deserve you? Or better yet, we stop the narrative all together. It’s not about being worthy of each other.
It’s just us. You and me. None of the outside noise.
You’re worthy of anything and everything good in this world.
I could have done more. Been better. Fought harder. I never got over you. I never will.”
“You know, part of me was happy you wouldn’t sign those divorce papers, and that you never did. It’s why I stopped sending them and stopped asking. I think a small part of me was hopeful that we could find our way back.”
I kiss her cheeks, her eyes, her forehead. “More than a small part of me knew we would. That we will.”
“I’m so sorry, Grant.” She clutches my shirt, dragging me off the floor. Picking her up, I sit her in my lap and hold her close.
“I am too.”
Taylor peers up at me through her wet lashes. “Can I move in for real?”
“Only if it means you’re in my bed every night and in my arms every morning when I wake up.”
“There’s no place I’d rather be.” She seals her promise with a kiss. It’s a homecoming. A reunion. A vow to stay.