Chapter 41
Chapter Forty-One
Dara
“Hey.”
Wade’s voice stirs me from my nap. I don’t really believe it’s him that I hear. I have an even harder time realizing it’s him in my doorway.
He looks … awful. Dark spots under his eyes. Unshaven. He lacks his cool demeanor, and it’s been replaced with something … else. Something detached but also affected.
What the hell?
“Can I come in?” he asks.
“Sure. Yes. Of course.”
I wince as I sit up.
He lunges into action, grabbing my arm, and helps me get situated. His touch is gentle, and I wish it didn’t feel like the last time I would experience it.
His face is sullen as he sits.
“How do you feel?” he asks.
“Like I got hit by a truck.”
He doesn’t laugh. I shrug.
“The police came by today. Told me it wasn’t my fault,” I tell him. “The guy fell asleep at the wheel and hit me.”
“Am I supposed to say that’s good?”
I consider that. “Maybe. I don’t know. None of it feels good right now.”
He runs his hands up and down his face.
The baby feels like an elephant in the room. At some point, I suspect it’ll feel like an elephant inside me too. It’s such an odd feeling to know that there’s a child in there, in my stomach, when I had no idea.
It doesn’t feel real. I don’t feel connected to it yet, which would probably worry me if I could stay awake long enough to think about it.
I open my mouth to just sputter something into the room, to take the pressure off the situation. Maybe if I just bring up the baby, things will get easier?
It takes longer for words to fall past my lips than usual. That’s disappointing.
And unfortunate.
“I’m sorry, Dara,” Wade says before I can get a word out.
“For what?”
He tugs on his hair before raising his face to mine.
The storm brewing behind his beautiful eyes is wild and intense.
My mouth goes dry as I watch him fight an internal battle.
I place a hand on my stomach and catch myself. Slowly, I drop it to the mattress.
He shifts in his seat. His hands wring together as if he’s unable to keep himself from touching me. And out of all of the things I’ve endured with him since the accident—this is the worst.
His refusal to touch me.
It’s so many steps in the wrong direction. The Wade of late couldn’t stop touching me as if he needed the connection as much as I did.
As much as I do.
He held me at night. Reached for me in the morning. Wrapped his arms around me as soon as he saw me. It wasn’t always just about the kiss that would usually follow or the ass grab that was also frequent.
It was about the connection. I could feel it in the way he nestled me against his chest. I could see it in his eyes … just like I can see now that he’s not going to do it today.
Tears well inside my eyes. I’m surprised I have any more left to shed.
“Are you here alone?” he asks. “I thought Rusti was staying with you.”
“She had to go to work. I’m fine, you know. Small broken bone. Cracked rib. Mostly just super sore.”
He worries his hand around his jaw.
“What are you sorry for?” I ask, circling back to the topic he just began and then walked away from.
“I told you when we started this—the night of Holt’s wedding—that things between us would change,” he says.
I nod. “Yes. And they did.”
“And you trusted me. You took me at my word and let me into your life.”
“Yes. I don’t see where this is going, Wade.”
He stands up and paces around my room. Watching him spikes my anxiety because I know something is wrong.
Suddenly, he stops. He looks at me like he’s seen a ghost. His skin is pale, and his eyes are wide and just looking at him makes me still.
“In college, freshman year,” he says, his voice so low that I can barely hear him. “I dated a girl named Morgan.”
Okay.
“We dated for almost a year,” he says. “I don’t know if I loved her or if it was just easy or if she was just the first girl I really liked.” He shrugs sadly. “But she told me that she was pregnant.”
What?
My brows pull together as my heart skips a beat.
He has a child?
“I didn’t know what to do, Dara. Hell, I was scared shitless. I was nineteen years old, just starting my life, and—out of all of my brothers—I got a girl pregnant. It was … It was a nightmare. For both of us.”
I don’t know what to say, and I’m afraid to ask questions. He may never get back to this moment of vulnerability if I do.
I suck in a breath.
“We decided to keep it,” he says. “She desperately wanted to be a mother, and someone told her at some point that she might not be able to conceive. But she did. And, eventually, she was so happy.”
He stares into the hallway, a smile brushing lightly against his lips.
“We decided not to tell anyone,” he says. “Not until we got used to it first and could come up with a plan to tell our parents so they would know we had it handled. I knew my parents would be disappointed but would ultimately be fine about it. Hers … not so much.”
I swallow hard. My breathing picks up.
“There was a night. A party.” He makes a sour face. “She wanted to go. I was worried about it—about her being there with these rowdy college kids while pregnant. But she was adamant that we still have fun.”
Oh, no.
My body chills as I watch a blast of fear flash across his face.
“I lost track of her somehow. Someone put something in her drink. Or at least that’s what we suspected happened.”
“Don’t drink anything that isn’t given to you by my brothers or me.”
Wade …
“She was gone.” His voice is detached as he replays this moment in his mind. “I couldn’t find her. I looked everywhere. Finally, someone called me from the hospital …”
He looks at me with a single tear streaking down his face. The pain that’s etched into his skin, embedded in his eyes, nearly pierces my heart with its intensity.
I want to reach for him, to hold him, to comfort him. But I know he won’t let me. I can see that, too, in his face.
“She lost the baby, Dara. She lost our child because of me.”
My hand falls to my stomach.
I’ve only known that I’m pregnant for a day. I’m not even attached to the idea of it yet. But I already know that if I lost this child, I would be devastated.
Tears fill my eyes as I consider hearing the words she must’ve heard. My heart aches for the pain that Wade must have felt.
And also the guilt.
“We split because she went home. I thought her spirit was completely broken. She couldn’t look at me, and I couldn’t look at either of us. I vowed never to set myself up to feel that kind of pain again,” he says. “And then I met you.”
My tears break the dam … for so many reasons.
For his experience. For my experience.
For his pain. For my pain.
For his child. For our child.
And for the life I know we’re never going to have.
“If that had been you last night with our child …” He smiles sadly. “If you had been pregnant and lost our baby …”
I open my mouth and then close it again.
Had been pregnant.
Does he not know?
“Wade, I thought you knew—”
“It’s not fair to you for us to be together.”
“Wade—”
“I should’ve gone with you. I should’ve been driving you. I should’ve been there to stand beside you to tell Curt to fuck off.”
“Wade, listen to me—”
“I can’t be the one. I have nothing to give you,” he says, panic filling his voice. “I don’t want marriage. I don’t want kids. I don’t want that responsibility. I can’t have that responsibility, Dara. I can’t. I can’t risk it.”
I cover my mouth with my hands and feel my world fall apart.
My body shakes as I cry. It hurts. Everything hurts. My whole existence somehow hurts.
How much simpler—how much clearer—can he be?
He stops at the side of my bed and bends down. The sweetest, gentlest kiss is placed on the top of my head. I can feel one of his tears splash against my forehead.
“I love you, Dara Alden,” he whispers. “And I want you to find someone who can take care of you. Who will give you all the things in the world that you want. But that guy isn’t me.”
I sob as he walks out the door.
I was right all along. It was better not to trust in someone else for my joy. Because they can take it away. They can leave. They can reject you.
I touch my hand to my stomach.
Reject us.