Chapter 59 Warren
FIFTY-NINE
WARREN
A part of me knew she’d find me. I’d hoped she’d find me.
If she were in my shoes, I’d travel to the ends of the Earth, never stopping until I found her.
I detested the idea of her seeing me like this, crouching in the middle of a cemetery, covered in dirt, shame, and regret.
I’ve spent so much time and energy wanting to protect not only myself but her from the truth until I felt ready. It was never about trust. It’s the trust binding us together that drove me to seeking help again.
“You never failed them,” she says softly. “Not once and not now.”
My eyes flutter closed, her hands in my hair soothing the ancient ache in my chest.
From the twist of pain in her voice, she knows.
Blurry memories of her and Marcus standing in the hospital room doorway returned on the cab ride over here.
My protests were lost to sleep when they talked of going to my house, and it was only when the dizziness and confusion faded that I recalled exactly what she’d find.
I’d turned that home—his room—into a tomb.
One I haven’t possessed the courage to enter since this day, eight years ago.
“What do you need?” she whispers.
Forgiveness.
I want to beg the heavens for it, to ask she forgive me for keeping my past hidden from her. Instead, I say, “I want to tell you everything.”
“Warren, you don’t need—” She pauses when I turn to face her.
“I do, Harriet. It’s time.”
I should protest when she settles onto the grass beside me. She’s almost eight months pregnant, but she doesn’t flinch at my ice-cold skin when she links her arm through mine and rests her head on my shoulder.
She kisses my cheek. “Take your time.”
She’s the pillar of strength holding me up when my gaze returns to the gravestone.
“I met Alison at my old firehouse. She lived in the area and would jog past most evenings.” I cast my eyes on the shaded sky, waiting for the first raindrop to fall.
I should get Harriet home, but I’m rooted in place, the story I should’ve told her months ago flowing freely.
“I was washing an engine out front when she ran past, tripped over the curb, and busted her ankle.
I fixed her up, and the following week, she returned to thank me, which ended with us trading numbers and arranging a date.
It was a whirlwind romance, and within eighteen months, we were married.
We were great together. She was fun, outgoing, and liked a lot of the same things I did.
“Neither of us could pinpoint the exact reason, but after five years, it changed. Maybe it was me. Maybe it was her. But the spark fizzled out, and we didn’t know what to do with ourselves.
We were too proud to acknowledge anything was different.
To cope, I threw myself at my job, taking extra shifts and staying late, while she wanted to pretend everything was normal.
Eventually, it became too much, and one afternoon I came home from a shift to find her crying on the sofa and holding a pregnancy test.” I suck in a breath, and Harriet presses into my side.
“We were na?ve to think having a baby would change things. It would, of course, but we were still the same people in denial of our failing marriage. We argued more and became strangers in our own home.”
I turn to find Harriet’s blue eyes filling with tears.
“I should’ve shown up more. Made time to fix us.
Instead, I continued drowning in work and losing track of important dates.
The day she left me, she was almost twenty weeks pregnant, and I’d forgotten about a doctor’s appointment.
I loved her and the baby, and I fucked up.
When she moved out, I didn’t fight her. I stopped fighting for her. ”
A broken sob threatens to break free.
“We don’t have to do this now, Warren,” she whispers.
I shake my head. “No. You need to hear this before deciding if being with me is truly what you want. I’ve kept too much from you.” I stare at Alison and Carson’s name. “This is the first time I’ve visited him. What kind of man does that make me?”
“A man who lost everything, one who is grieving.” Harriet cups my face, forcing my gaze back to hers.
“The crash was not your fault. Alison being out in the storm was not your fault. What happened is tragic, and I can’t imagine the pain you’re feeling, especially today. But none of it was your fault, Warren.”
Harriet shuffles closer. Her lip wobbles as she brushes away the silent tears streaming down my cheeks. “I’m so sorry you ended up there…where the crash happened.”
I lean into her palm. “We were going to call him Carson. He is called Carson.”
It’s the first time I’ve spoken his name aloud in years.
“It’s a beautiful name.”
“I never got to feel him kick.” My throat tightens, forcing my next words out through gritted teeth. “I failed him. Before he was born, I failed him.”
I’m tugged into a warm embrace, my face veiled by long waves of blonde hair as the first sob breaks free. I try to keep my weight off her, but the heaviness from my confession crushes my chest until I’m sure it’ll cave inward.
“No. No.” Harriet’s gentle voice finds its way through the jagged edges of my heart. “No, baby. You didn’t. What happened was out of your control. You need to see that, Warren. Please.”
Once the floodgate opens, years of unspoken remorse and heartbreak choke me as I tell Harriet everything.
She never stops holding me.
I tell her how Alison’s family wouldn’t look at me during the funeral.
How I forced myself back to work and ended up smashing up the kitchen in a fit of rage.
Of the nights I would sleep outside Carson’s unfinished nursery and cry myself to sleep, only to be woken by the nightmares.
“He deserved better than me,” I gasp. “They both did. And so do you—”
“No.” Harriet’s sharp tone cracks through the air.
Delicate hands frame my soaked cheeks. “No, Warren. The pain you’re feeling is real, and I will never judge you for how you’ve learned to cope with it.
I’m so proud of you for coming out the other side and for putting in the work to help yourself, but I will not sit by and listen to you tell me what I deserve. ”
A deep rumble echoes through the wind, followed by a dim flash of light.
“You could’ve chosen a different path when I told you I was pregnant, but you didn’t.
You shoved your fears and feelings aside and showed up.
” Her shaky exhale blows across my face.
“You fought so hard to be present and supportive. I know it’s been a long fight, baby, and I’m so sorry you’ve tried to do it alone all these years, but I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. ”
Rose-scented kisses brush away the tears. I tug Harriet onto my lap, off the cold, damp grass, and hold her to me, ignoring the pain in my ribs. I feel weightless with her in my arms and her words replaying in my head.
I’m not going anywhere.
A fear that’s paralyzed me for months.
“We’re a team, Warren, and I’m telling you, you’re enough.
” Harriet presses my hand to her stomach.
The connection washes away the deep-seated pain.
“You’re everything we deserve, and when our son or daughter is old enough, I won’t need to remind them how brave and devoted their father is, because you’ll show them every day of their lives.
They’ll know about their big brother Carson and how he’s watching over them. ”
A part of me will always remain broken, but the ease with which Harriet speaks his name, adoration lacing her words, patches an age-old crack in my heart.
I press my face into her neck, breathing her in.
“I sentenced myself to a lifetime of loneliness, convinced this is the path fate had planned for me. Yet, the second you walked into my life, the need to torture myself lessened.” Beautiful eyes meet mine as I pull away, needing her to see the determination in my expression.
“I spent so long picking up the fractured pieces, trying to repair what’s left of my soul, when loving you was what I needed.
I’m still not whole, Harriet, but I want to be happy, to make you happy.
I’ll devote the rest of my life to loving you. ”
Clothes soaked through and covered in mud aren’t how I planned this, but love doesn’t need to be spoken under perfect circumstances or romantic fronts.
Love is raw and real and limitless.
“I love you, sweetheart,” I repeat over and over until I’m breathless.
She smiles at me, my girl with a heart pure as gold. “I will love you through anything, whole or not. There isn’t any journey I see myself starting without you, and I’ll be right by your side through this one.”
We stay there, holding one another until the first drop of rain falls.
As effortlessly as breathing, she brought me back to life, and I’ll spend the rest of it loving her.
Loving them both. She dragged me out of the hell I’d built for myself.
The journey isn’t over, and maybe I’ll always travel a broken path, but to find a partner to help carry the load when it gets too heavy makes the first daunting step easier.
My Harriet.
My salvation.
My love.