Her gaze snapped to mine, a silent question on her face. Tears welled in the blue depths of her eyes.
I glanced at the road as I spoke, unable to meet her sad stare. “Look, I know I’m the last person who should be askin’ this of you, but…” I blew out a breath and finally braved her gaze. “I need you to talk. Please.”
Tears streamed down her cheeks, her mouth bobbing open and closed multiple times. Exhaling shakily, she said on a broken whisper, “I…I don’t know what to s-say.”
With a tentative hand, I reached for hers. “Say somethin’, anythin’... I just…I need to know what you’re thinkin’. I hate seein’ you like this. It–it scares me.”
Some of the tension, however small, melted from her as she gripped my hand back. “It scares me too. I don’t know what to do. A part of me thinks maybe I should keep it. But then I think of Nate. And his threats. And what everyone else will have to say. And then there’s this…thing goin’ on between us. And what if you grow to resent me? What if this changes how you feel?” Her words became quicker and more frantic the longer she talked, her chest rising and falling rapidly.
My heart cracked. She was worried about me? About me resenting her? Dear Lord, I should have talked to her. Should have reassured her.
I pulled off on the side of road, the dirt crunching beneath my tires the only sound to break the silence. Placing the truck in park, I turned to face her more fully. “You don’t gotta worry about me.”
Her bottom lip trembled, her gaze falling to the floor as she spoke. “You say that, but—”
“No. No buts.” I shook my head, leaning over to tilt her chin up. Despite the worry and concern riding my emotions, I spoke calm, even. “I can promise you right now, Cheyenne, you never gotta worry about me regrettin’ or resentin’ you. Never.”
A choked sob escaped her, but I continued on before she could protest. “As for the other concerns…I won’t let Nate do anything to you. And if you’re worried about what other people might think ifyou decide to keep the baby—” I shrugged. “Tell ‘em it’s mine. I don’t care. I’ll even go so far as to buy you a ring, if that’s what you want.”
She shook her head, disbelief mingling with the tears in her eyes. “Why?” she sobbed. “Why would you do all this for me?”
I slid the hand holding her chin along her jaw, before cupping the side of her face. “You took care of me…now, let me take care of you.”
She scoffed. “Maverick, I would hardly compare singing you to sleep to you literally ruinin’ your life for me. A girl you don’t even know.”
And there it was, I realized. The root of her worries, her fears.
“Is that it? You’re worried if you keep it, it’ll ruin your life?” I wasn’t judging, just curious. I’d wondered if it was this.
Her eyes fluttered closed, her lashes dark and spiky from her tears. Fresh ones streaked down her cheeks. Her composure broke, her face falling into her hands that rested on her knees as her shoulders shook. Muffled cries escaped her.
Fuck. I’d only made things worse.
“Cheyenne,” I soothed. “It’s okay.”
Her head whipped up, her devastated gaze meeting mine. “No, it’s not!” she croaked out. “It’s not okay. What person could possibly think that their life was ruined because of their unborn child?” She tilted her head toward the ceiling of the car. “It’s selfish and horrible, I know. That baby is the product ofmyirresponsibility, and yet here I am ready to get rid of it because it’s inconvenient. That babydoesn’t deserve that. It deserves a mom who’s gonna love it. Take care of it. Be selfless for them. Someone like Charlie.” She wiped at her tears, resignation ringing in her words. “I’m no better than my mama.”
“It ain’t the same, Chey—”
“Isn’t it?” she snapped, self-loathing and anger and hatred written plainly on her face, burning in her eyes, and echoing in her words. “My mama could’ve stayed, but she left. Same as I could have this baby, but I…I can’t. That baby deserves better than me.”
I blew out a slow breath, sadness welling in me, pricking tears of my own. I blinked them away. The fact she could think so low of herself broke my heart, but I realized there was nothing I could do to convince her otherwise. And nothing I said would stop her today. Not that I had any right to. This was her decision.
I needed to respect that.
“You sure this is what you want?” I cupped her face.
Pursing her lips as more tears fell, she nodded.
“Okay.” I shifted in my seat, turning myself forward once more. Putting the truck in drive, I hopped back on the road.
Chapter thirty-three
Ticking
Cheyenne
Every second was aconstant battle between my heart and mind. The conflict in me so intense it hurt to breathe. To think.
