ELLA
Letter #2 Ella,
These cookies are the best thing ever. I’m not lying.
First, don’t let the judgy PTA ladies scare you off. Though I’ll admit, I’ve been to war. A lot. And those women still intimidate me, and I don’t even have kids, so I will simply throw you the Hunger Games salute and wish you the best.
Yeah, we watch a lot of movies over here.
You asked about the scariest choice I’ve ever made. I’m not sure I’ve ever really been scared of a choice I’ve made. Being scared means you have something to lose, and I’ve never really had that. Without going into my background too deeply, I’ll simply say that I don’t have family outside of this unit. I don’t have anyone waiting for me to come home from this trip, either. Even joining the army was a no-brainer, since I was eighteen and on the verge of getting kicked out of the system.
I get scared on behalf of the other guys. I hate seeing them get hurt, or worse. I get scared every time your brother pulls some reckless crap, but that’s not my choice.
But I will tell you the biggest choice. I bought a tract of land, sight unseen, simply because it came recommended to me. The owner was in a bind, and I took the plunge. I have no idea what to do with it, either. My investment guy—yes, I have one of those so I don’t die broke—told me to hold on to it and sell it to developers when I want to retire. Your brother said to build a house and settle down.
Now that scares me. The idea of settling somewhere, not starting over every few years, is a little terrifying. There’s a peace that comes with being such a nomad. I start fresh when I move. A clean slate just
waiting for me to mess it up. Hey, I warned you, I’m crap with people. Settling down means I have to work on not alienating everyone around me because I’m stuck with them. That, or I become a mountain hermit and grow a really long beard, which might actually be the easier choice.
I guess I’ll let you know when I figure out which decision to make.
Your place sounds great, and I have the ultimate faith that you made the right choice mortgaging it for improvements. Like you said, nothing ventured, nothing gained.
What the heck do you put in these cookies? Because they’re seriously addicting. I might curse you after I run a few extra miles, but these are so worth it.
Thank you again,
~ Chaos
…
“You’re sure this is the right way?” I asked Maisie as we pulled onto the dirt road. “We’re really close to Solitude.”
Telluride. Beckett was still in Telluride. He hadn’t left. Hadn’t moved on like I’d so foolishly assumed.
“That’s what the lady says from the GPS pin he texted you,” Maisie answered, waving the phone with the Google Maps app open. “Do I really get to see Beckett?”
The hope in her voice was brutal.
“Yeah, for a few minutes.” I tried to keep my tone light but failed miserably. Maybe it was the exhaustion from two weeks of hospitalization with Maisie for the radiation. Maybe it was hearing that another kid Maisie had met in Denver passed last week. Maybe it was Beckett.
Or maybe my heart was simply broken by all of the above. “I miss him,” she said softly.
“Me, too, love,” I answered without thinking.
“No, you don’t. If you missed him, you’d call him. You’d let us see him.” Her tone was anything but understanding as we wove our way through the woods.
“Maisie, it’s not that easy. Sometimes relationships just don’t work out, and you might not really understand that until you’re older.”
“Okay.”
Man, I was in for it when this sassafras became a teenager. Then I smiled, realizing she had a shot at becoming a teenager now.
Because of Beckett.
But the lies were woven in with the love, and that was the killer. The lies didn’t wipe out everything he’d done for me, for us. They didn’t wipe out the way it felt when he kissed me, the way my body fired on all cylinders when he was in a room. They didn’t wipe out the way he loved the kids, or the way they loved him.
But that love didn’t wipe out the lies, either, or my fear that he’d tell more.
And there was our impasse.
It wasn’t that I couldn’t see past what he’d done to understand why he’d done it. It was simply that I couldn’t afford to trust him.
“Oh my God,” I whispered as we came upon the house. I looked at the lake, just to be sure, then back at the house. I would have asked Maisie if she was sure, but Colt came running out of the house with Havoc on his heels, and that answered the question.
Beckett owned the twenty-five acres I’d sold off two years ago to that investment company.
The house itself was beautiful. Built in the log-cabin style, which matched the ones in Solitude. It was two stories with multiple A-frame rooflines and stone pillars. It was classic, rustic, and modern, all in one style. The definition of Beckett.
Colt threw open Maisie’s door. “There you are! I missed you!” “Me, too!” she said, and the two locked in a hug.
“Hey, honey,” I said when they broke apart.
“Hi, Mom!” Colt threw me a grin over the back of the seat. “We made dinner, come on!”
“Oh, Maisie doesn’t feel too well.” I immediately panicked at the thought of spending any more than a few minutes with Beckett.
“We figured. So we have chicken, and rice, and saltines, if you need them, Maisie. Come on, you have to see the house!” Maisie jumped down, more agile than I’d seen her these last two weeks, and the two were off like a shot.
“Well, I guess that settles that,” I mumbled to myself. The urge struck to check my hair and makeup, and I shook it off. There was no need to impress Beckett. Funny, I’d used to think the same thing, because he’d loved me. Now it was because I wasn’t supposed to care what he thought.
I threw a glance in the mirror and fixed my hair with a couple of quick tugs…because I did care. Damn it.
“Don’t be a chicken,” I lectured myself as I got out of the Tahoe. I left him, not the other way around. So why did it hurt this much? Why was my heart galloping? Why did I crave the sight of him almost as much as I avoided it?
Ugh.
I was twenty-six years old with my first real broken heart. When Jeff left, the twins and my own stubbornness had eased the ache and distracted me. But Beckett? There was no distraction for Beckett. He was in my thoughts, my dreams, my voicemails that I refused to delete, and the letters I wouldn’t throw away. He was freaking everywhere.
My steps were slow as I made my way into the house. The inside was just as beautiful, with dark hardwood floors and high ceilings. It was exactly the house I would have designed for myself. But it wasn’t mine, and neither was he.
Wait. Where was the furniture? There were no pictures on the walls, no signs that he’d even really moved in. Was he leaving after all?
“Hey,” he said, coming around the corner.
Crap, he looked really good. Jeans and a long-sleeve baseball tee with
Colt’s soccer team logo on it were bad enough, but his hair was a little longer and perfectly mussed, and he’d had the nerve to grow a really sexy layer of scruff.
“Hi.” Of all the words we needed to say to each other, that was all that came out.
“The kids are off exploring.” His eyes drifted toward the ceiling as the sound of running feet came through. “Look, Colt wanted to make you dinner. I told him it probably wasn’t a good idea, but he was adamant, and I figured you could just take it with you if you didn’t want to stay.”
“You live on the back twenty-five of Solitude that I sold two years ago.” “Yes.” He said it so easily.
“This is where you went?”
“After we broke up?” he clarified.
I nodded slowly. “When you checked out, and Colt told me your stuff was gone, I asked Hailey if you’d left any forwarding information.”
“I didn’t.”
“I know. That’s when I assumed you’d gone back to the army.” Like two of the other men I’d loved.
“I didn’t leave any forwarding information because I figured you’d call the station. It never occurred to me you’d think I’d actually leave you and the kids after I promised you I wouldn’t.” He sighed, rubbing his face. “Then again, I did lie about who I was, so…”
He was right. We both knew it.
“I didn’t like the way we’d ended things. I’d ended things,” I amended. “Neither did I,” he answered softly.
“You didn’t call.”
“I tried that first week, but you didn’t answer. I figured you meant it when you told me you didn’t want to see me again.”
“I’m sorry. I never should have said that. I tend to…overreact when it comes to lies, and…”
“And build a fortress around the kids,” he finished my thoughts, reciting my own words from our letters. “I understood, and I deserved it. It’s not
like you didn’t warn me in your first letter, right?”
God, the man knew me so well, and I hated the feeling that I didn’t know
him.
“You don’t have any furniture.”
His eyebrows rose at my change of subject. “Just in the bedroom and the kitchen. Not that I mean to imply anything. I just needed a bed. For sleeping. Just sleeping.” His shoulders rose, and he tucked his thumbs into his jeans. “And the kitchen, of course. For eating. Because it’s a kitchen.”
The way we both awkwardly navigated the conversation would have been funny if seeing him didn’t feel like he’d just ripped my heart out and watched the final beats.
“Why? Why don’t you have furniture?” “Honestly?”
“Yeah. I think we have enough lies between us, don’t you?” I winced. “That wasn’t called for. I’m sorry.”
“Feel free, I deserve whatever you want to dish out.”
“The furniture?” I reminded him to get the heck off that topic.
“I bought what I needed. I’d always planned on letting you pick out the rest, and afterward…well, I didn’t really care. I should probably get a living room set before football season, though. It’s a little awkward to eat all those snacks in bed.”
The kids raced down the wide steps that curved to the second story. “Isn’t it great, Mom?” Maisie asked as she flew by with Colt on her heels. Man, that girl rebounded so fast. Havoc stopped by for a quick pet and then chased after them.
“Wait until you see the rec room!” Colt told her, and they were off down another hallway.
“Did she even say hi to you?” I asked with a small laugh.
“Yeah, I got a huge hug before Colt took her upstairs to see the bedrooms.”
“How many are there?” Not that I needed to know. “Six. Five here, and a suite above the garage.”
“Wow. Big.” I shook my head. “Please don’t make a that’s-what-she-said joke.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” His smile was breathtaking and heartbreaking.
As usual, everything with him was so effortless and easy, but now it was excruciatingly difficult, too.
“Okay, it’s none of my business, but you built this? You own the land I sold?” I’d seen it being built and kicked myself for selling the property every time I’d spied the construction crew. Luckily, the island hid it when I was home, so I’d been able to ignore it.
“I had it built over the last seven months or so. For you.”
I forced my lungs to draw air when they were obviously averse to the idea. “For me.”
“You said no lies.” He threw a grin over his shoulder. “And it was the biggest choice I’ve ever made.”
“You bought the back twenty-five two years ago? I thought it was an investment company.”
“It was. Ryan asked if I’d be interested in an investment property. I agreed and gave it to my finance guy to handle, since we were overseas at the time. He’d been after me to diversify, so I did. Well, he did. I just signed the papers once we got back after that tour. I didn’t realize they were your acres until I was already here.”
“And you didn’t tell me. Don’t you see a pattern?” “Nope. There are secrets, and there are surprises.”
“You own the back twenty-five acres of my property!”
“Actually, only the back four acres. Go ahead and check with the county. I deeded all the land except four acres for the house over to you. Oh, and there’s an easement for the road. Hope you don’t mind.”
“You gave it back?”
“Except the house. I mean, yeah, I built it for you, but for me, too. And it’s cool if you want the house, but I come with it. Now come get some of this food. I can put it on plates and wrap it up if you don’t want to stay. There’s no pressure.”
He turned around and started walking, so I followed him. The house really was spectacular. He led me to a large, modern kitchen that did, indeed, have a table and chairs. It opened onto a giant patio through a sliding glass door.
Freaking perfect house.
“You can’t build me a house.”
“Already did,” he answered, walking around the island to where the food rested.
“It’s not normal to build a house for a woman and not tell her.” I came into the kitchen and leaned back against the dark granite counters. Good counter space, too. Perfect for— Shut that thought down now.
“Yeah, well, I had this stupid, romantic notion that I’d build it and prove to you that I wasn’t leaving. And then when Maisie was cured, and everything leveled out, maybe you’d want to live here. With me. But I also know you love living on property, so I wasn’t going to pressure you, and we really weren’t ready for the move-in conversation.” He piled food onto plates. “And we both know I’m not exactly good at the whole relationship thing. I’m probably fourteen for all the experience I have in that area.” He gave me a teasing shrug.
“Is this really so easy for you?” Oh, that had come out really harsh.
The plates clicked against the granite as he set them down, then slowly turned toward me.
“No. It’s not. It’s impossible to see you, to be in the same room as you, and not want to drop to my knees and beg your forgiveness. It’s all I can do to keep my hands off you, not to kiss you, touch you, remind you how good we are together and how much I love you. It’s killing me not to take you upstairs and show you the bedroom I built just for you, if for no other reason than to get to sleep next to you. Every aspect of this feels like a knife is twisting in my gut, and the worst happened yesterday when Colt told me that I didn’t love him. That he’d thought I was going to be his dad and instead went and forgot about him, and then said I was a coward for not fixing us. And you know what? He’s right about the coward part. I can lie
and say I know you don’t want me to fight for you, that I’m not even worthy of a second chance, but the truth is that I’m too scared to do anything but breathe for fear I’ll make it worse. I didn’t lose just you, Ella, I lost them, too. There is nothing easy about this, and I’m doing my best to keep it light. So do you want these damn peas? Because the website I read said they’re good to eat after radiation.”
He’d sworn.
“Peas are good.” It came out as a whisper.
“Excellent. There’s whole grain rice, too. And lean chicken, since that’s easier for her to digest.” He plated the peas. “Do I get to know what comes next? Or just wait for the insurance statements?”
“We have blood work scheduled next week. If that’s clear, then we start immunotherapy.”
A relieved smile crossed his face, but it wasn’t for me. “That’s the last hurdle, right?”
“Maybe. Hopefully. I don’t really want to hope.”
“Hope is good. Feel it. Because we have no idea what’s coming around the corner. You have to take the good when it comes, because the bad isn’t going to give you a choice.”
The kids ran into the kitchen, and Maisie slouched in one of the chairs. “Maisie?”
“I’m fine, Mom.”
“Just don’t overdo it,” I said out of habit.
“Stay or go?” Beckett asked me in a whisper so the kids wouldn’t hear.
He gave me the choice. He always gave me the choice.
“Beckett. Colt made the spring league soccer team,” Maisie offered, swinging her legs back and forth in the chair. “Plus, Hailey broke up with another boy, and I turned down my make-a-wish again.”
“Wait, you what?” Beckett asked, walking toward her. “Why? Don’t you want to dress up like Batgirl for the day in Denver? Or be a mermaid in the Bahamas? Work on a movie for a day with Ron Howard?”
She shrugged. “I have everything I want, and the only thing I’d ask for,
they can’t give me, so they should give the wish to someone who needs it.” He crouched down. “What do you want?”
“It doesn’t matter now. Are we going to eat?”
I didn’t lose just you, Ella, I lost them, too.
His words hit me again, twice as hard as the first time. I’d loved this man
—still did, if I was honest with myself—trusted him enough to let him adopt my kids. Then in a twist of irony, I’d cut off contact to spare my heart, and in doing so crushed the twins—the very thing I’d been scared he’d do. All because I wasn’t capable of being around him and taking a full breath at the same time. He’d never been a danger to them, and maybe I was foolish, but a little distance had cleared my head, and I believed he’d always been honest with the kids. Hell, he’d been their dad in more ways than just the legal one. He hadn’t abandoned them like Jeff. He’d built them a damn house and dropped what he was doing to go for Colt even though we weren’t together anymore.
And although I’d cut him off cold turkey, he’d never once come at me with that adoption agreement to force the issue. He’d given me the choice.
And I’d chosen wrong. I was wrong.
“We’ll stay.”
Beckett stood, sending me a look of pure shock. “You’ll stay.” “It’s just dinner.”
His face twisted with emotion before he smoothed it out with a nod and a forced smile. “Yeah, let’s eat. Colt, grab some drinks for the girls.”
Colt cheered and then got to pouring lemonade from the pretty glass pitcher.
We ate, and it was normal and excruciating at the same time. My kids lit up and never stopped talking, filling Beckett in on everything that had happened the last month. He listened and responded, his eyes dancing as he soaked up their every word.
I watched him quietly, dropping my gaze whenever he noticed, only to return. He was Beckett, but he was also Chaos, and with each bite I took,
lines from his letters bombarded my heart, reminding me that the man sitting across from me was the same one I’d felt immediately drawn to. The same one who was sad, and lonely, and who didn’t feel worthy of human connection—of family.
We finished eating, and I stood. “Colt, will you clear the table? I want Beckett to show me the upstairs.”
“Yeah!” he said with an enthusiastic nod and then whispered something to Beckett that sounded a lot like “apologize.”
Beckett nodded solemnly and then ruffled Colt’s hair and gave Maisie a wink. Then he motioned for me to follow and led me up the stairs.
The stairs reached a landing, where the hall split in two sections with a bridge that crossed over the entry. “The kids’—the other rooms are that way.”
“Show me the master.”
He walked the opposite way and led me into a gorgeous master bedroom that had vaulted ceilings and massive windows. A king-size sleigh bed took up one wall, with silver and white bedding that I would have chosen myself. “There’s a bathroom through there with two walk-in closets and a washer-dryer set. There’s a second set downstairs by the mudroom, because…well…kids get stuff dirty. Not that it matters, or anything. You
can check it out if you want.” He sat perched on the footboard of the bed. “I don’t need to. I know it’s perfect.”
“Well, if you didn’t come up here to see the bathtub, what’s up?” “We’re not getting back together.” It flew out of my mouth.
“Well, let’s not pull any punches.”
“I’m sorry, I mean, I wanted that clear before I say what’s next.” I started pacing back and forth in front of the bed. Man, the carpet was really soft.
“Well, after that intro, I can’t wait to hear it.” He leaned forward a little, bracing his hands on the footboard. “But first, I’m supposed to tell you that I’m sorry. Again. Louder maybe, so Colt can hear. He’s advised me that girls like it when you say sorry. So, I’m truly, deeply sorry for lying to you. For letting you think I was dead. For not reading your letters after Ryan
died. If I had, I never would have stayed away when you asked me to come.”
“You read the letters?” After everything, he’d finally opened them.
“I did. And I’m sorry. I should have responded. I should have come. I should never have kept it from you. I’m so incredibly sorry for the pain I caused you, and there aren’t enough words of remorse to express how I feel about costing you Ryan.”
I stopped pacing. “Beckett, I don’t blame you for Ryan.” His eyes shot up to mine. “How can you not?”
“How can I?” I sat next to him on the wide edge of the footboard. “It wasn’t your fault. If there were any chance you could have saved him, you would have. If there were any way you could have changed the outcome, you would have.” I recited the words from memory.
“Ryan.”
“Yeah, Ryan. What happened to you over there, that’s not something anyone should have to go through. You didn’t intentionally kill that child. It was an accident. I know you, Beckett. You wouldn’t hurt a child. Accidents are horrid, and awful things happen with no reason and no blame. It wasn’t your fault. What happened to Ryan? That’s not your fault, either. You’re no more responsible for that than an African butterfly is a hurricane.”
“It’s not the same.”
“It is. There are ten thousand ways to blame Ryan’s death on someone. It’s my parents’ fault for dying, for changing his life that way. My grandmother for not putting up a bigger fight when he wanted to enlist. Terrorists for making him feel like he needed to get out there and do something. Me, because I prayed for so long that he’d come home without detailing what condition I wanted him in. But none of that matters. He volunteered to go on a mission, and my guess is that he would have volunteered to go even if you had been there, because that’s who he was. He’s the same as my father—it just took me years to see it. If you want to blame someone, you blame the men who pulled the trigger, because that’s the only blame worth placing.”
He dropped his head. I turned, took his beard-rough cheeks in my hands, and lifted his face to meet my eyes. “Sometimes bad things happen. And there’s no blame to be placed. You can’t reason with the universe, no matter how sound your logic is. If everything made sense, then Maisie wouldn’t have cancer, and my parents would be alive, Ryan would be here. You never would have grown up the way you did. We are imperfect people made that way by an imperfect world, and we don’t always get a say in what shapes us. I do not blame you for Ryan. The only person who does, is you. And if you don’t let that pain go, it’s going to shape the rest of your life. You have that choice.”
“I love you. You know that, right? No matter what’s happened, or how badly I screwed this up, I love you.”
I dropped my hands, swallowed the lump in my throat, and nodded. “I know. And I wish that love and trust went hand in hand with us, but somewhere they got separated, and I don’t know if they can ever find their way back. I have to be able to believe the things you tell me, and that’s broken. Maybe if Maisie weren’t sick, and I was a little stronger…but I just can’t. Not right now, at least. And I know that you love the kids, and they love you. And I was wrong to cut you off from them. I was hurt and made some lame excuses in my head. But the truth is that I could always trust you with them. I mean, you’re their father.” I gave him a side nudge.
“On paper.”
“In reality.” Something clicked in my head. “This is why you didn’t press me to tell them about the adoption, isn’t it? You knew the truth would come out.”
“Yes.”
“And you didn’t want them in that position.” “Yes.”
I stood and began pacing again. “Do you want a role in their lives?” “God, yes. I’ll take whatever you’re willing to give me.”
He’d said those same words after the first time we’d been together. He’d lived them since he arrived in Telluride, always given me the choice on how
far I’d let him in. He’d never pushed his way in, never demanded anything more than I wanted to allow.
It didn’t matter how badly he’d hurt me, Beckett was still the same guy I’d fallen in love with. The same man my kids loved and needed. The only thing that had changed was my perception of him—of us.
“Okay, then here’s what we’re going to do. We’ll just act like we’re divorced.”
“We were never married.”
“A minor detail. What I mean is that people who have one-night stands manage to share kids. You and I love each—loved each other. We can figure it out. If you’re serious about staying—”
“I built a house, Ella. What more do you want?”
“Are you still in the military?” I knew the answer, of course. He couldn’t get out, not while we needed the coverage for Maisie. But I also knew that once she was well he wouldn’t be able to handle settling in one place now that we weren’t together anymore, when all that kept him here was the kids. His nomadic soul would itch to move on.
“That’s not fair.”
“Yeah. I know.” I sighed. “Okay, if you’re sticking around…for now, then the kids can come over whenever they want. If you want to keep up the soccer stuff with Colt, we’ll work that out. If you want to hang with Maisie on the weekends, or whatever, we’ll see what works for everyone. You can have access to them, and them to you. We’re adults, and they’re kids. So we need to act more adultier than the kids. You need to speak up for your rights, and I need to give them to you. And I don’t want to hide the adoption from the kids, so maybe once Maisie is out of the woods, if you’re still here and everything, we should tell them that you’re really their dad. I mean, that’s what I’d intended before—”
I’d barely paused in my pacing, when I found myself enveloped by warm, strong arms and pressed against a hard, familiar chest.
“Thank you,” he whispered into my hair.
He smelled so good and felt so right. Maybe if we stood here long
enough, nothing else would matter. We could just freeze the moment and live in it, surrounded by the love we had for each other.
But we couldn’t. Because he’d put me through hell for over a year, and no matter how much I loved him, I wasn’t sure I could ever trust him with my heart again, ever trust him to tell me the truth when it came to our relationship.
“You’re welcome. And I’m sorry for cutting them off from you. You always joke that you don’t have any relationship experience, but I don’t either, really. I handled it all wrong. But I’m going to be better starting now.”
“I’ll be here,” he promised. “I will show up for them and for you. I know you don’t have any faith in me, and that’s okay. I’ll prove it to you. I’ll earn back your trust one millimeter at a time. You won’t regret letting me adopt them, I swear.”
“I’ve never regretted that,” I said, wrapping my arms around him for a hug and then stepping out of the security of his arms before I did something stupid like believe what he’d just promised. “Want to tell the kids?”
“Yeah.” His face lit up like a kid on Christmas morning.
We found them at the cleared kitchen table, and they stopped their conversation immediately to look up at us.
“Did you fix it?” Colt asked.
“Not in that way, little man,” Beckett said softly. “Did you say sorry?”
“I did, but sorry doesn’t fix the unfixable.” Then Colt glared at me.
“Nope.” Beckett stepped forward and bent down. I always loved how he brought himself level to my kids. “You don’t get to be mad at the person who got hurt, or judge them for it, because only that person can tell you how deep the cut is, got it? This is not your mom’s fault. It’s mine.” He looked over at Maisie, who had tears in her eyes. “It’s mine.”
He stood back up and came to my side.
“So, we’re not together,” I reiterated. No good came from confusing kids.
“But I know you guys love him, and he loves you. So from now on, as long as everyone is on the same page, you can come over whenever Beckett says it’s cool. Soccer, treatments, phone calls, visits, we’ll work it out.”
Maisie’s mouth popped open. “Really?” “Really,” I promised her.
Colt had been a silent ball of rage since I’d split with Beckett, but Maisie had been the most openly vocal and sometimes downright mean.
“So you’re not together, but we get to keep him? He’s ours?”
More than you know.
“That’s what I’m saying.”
The kids flew out of their chairs, hugging Beckett, then me, then back to Beckett, then each other. Then Maisie hugged Beckett again and whispered something in his ear. He gave her a smile that bordered on tears and said, “Me, too.”
We walked the kids to my car, and they buckled in. Once the doors were shut, I turned to Beckett, who again had his hands in his pockets. For having a crazy amount of self-control, I’d picked up on that nervous tell easily enough.
“Thank you. For dinner, for taking care of Colt. For the land, and the house, even if it’s not mine. The intention was spectacular.”
“Thank you for them,” he answered. “What did she tell you?”
“Really want to know?” “Beckett,” I warned.
“She said that was her wish, the only thing she’d wanted was…me, in a roundabout way.”
“She wanted a dad,” I guessed. “You to be her dad.”
“They’re kids,” he said with a shrug, but I knew how much it meant to him.
“They’re our kids.”
“Look, I heard what you said upstairs loud and clear. I know that being together isn’t an option. But as trite as this sounds, I’d really love if we
could manage to be friends. Even if it’s just for the sake of the kids.”
Standing there, outside the house he’d built for me, I wished I’d never known. Wished he’d never lied or that we could take it all back. Wished he wasn’t both of the complicated men I’d fallen for. But he was, and he did.
And despite everything, I still loved him. “Yeah. I think we can manage that.”
“I’ll earn your trust back, no matter how long it takes,” he promised again.
Even if I wasn’t ready—wasn’t sure I’d ever be—I wanted to believe that he could, and that desire lit a tiny kernel of hope in my heart.
It wasn’t a bright enough fire to keep me warm, not like our love had. But it was a spark.
“I need to learn to give out those second chances. Small steps. Good night, Beckett.”
He nodded and stood on the porch until we pulled out of view.
