My head is spinning with all the things I need to say, with how to say them, how to make her understand that I want to protect her, to make things easier on her.
And because of that…
I bungle it by saying, “I make a lot more money than you, baby. I don’t need you to contribute.”
Hurt ripples across her face. “If that’s truly how you feel, then we need to have a serious conversation about finances.”
Fuck. That’s not...
What I meant.
But I don’t get a chance to utter those useless words out loud again.
Which is probably for the best.
It’s not like they’re good ones anyway.
It’s not like I’ve been able to say any good ones considering how off the rails this conversation has gone in such a short amount of time.
It’s just?—
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I know I’m fucking this up. It’s just that you’ve worked so hard, been through so much. I don’t want you to have to worry about things. You can just grow our baby and work as much as you want and…just chill for a bit and let me take care of you.”
She’s quiet for a minute. “That’s truly how you feel?”
I nod.
“Have you ever thought to ask how I feel?”
“Harper,” I say, moving toward her, reaching out to cup her face.
But she jerks back and up to her feet. “No,” she says firmly. “I…” A breath, her gaze dropping to her feet before it comes back up to mine. “I want to be a partner in this, in our relationship. It’s bad enough that I moved in so soon?—”
“I—”
“But I agree it makes things easier day-to-day, and it makes sense—especially since the landlord let me out of my lease without any penalties.”
I wince.
Unfortunately, she sees it.
“What?” she asks. “What did you do?”
“I kind of…” I clench my stomach muscles. “I guess I kind of paid the fee to break your lease.”
“You kind of paid the fee?” she asks dangerously.
“I didn’t want there to be any obstacles to you moving in,” I explain. Lamely.
“I see,” she says.
It’s quiet and filled with hurt.
“Mama—”
“Don’t.”
Fuck, that tears through me.
