Maverick’s words rattled through my head and echoed in my heart. He was willing to do all of that for me. But why? There was being kind, there was being caring, and then there was this.
He’d make an excellent husband. A phenomenal father. A part of me—a large part— wanted to take him up on his offer. Raising the baby as his, marrying him, all of it.
I may not be in love with him yet, but God, everything he did seemed to lead me in that direction. I cared for him. Deeply. Deeply enough that it scared me. I was falling. Faster than I ever had before.
But going along with Maverick's plan meant settling down. I was twenty-five. I didn’t want to settle down. Not yet. I had so many places I still wanted to go. Things I wanted to see. Maverick didn’t seem like the spontaneous, adventurous type. He was the same routine every single day for the rest of his lifekind of guy.
And I liked that about him, but would I like it after a few months? A few years?
I couldn’t keep this baby, raise it with him, and then what…leave when I got bored of being in the same place for too long? That wouldn’t be fair to any of us.
And it made me no better than my piece of shit mother.
Getting rid of this baby…it would destroy me—itwasdestroying me, but it would be better this way.
It has to.
Maverick pulled into the clinic parking lot and put the truck in park in one of the spots near the entrance. He turned to regard me. Those jade eyes swirling with emotion. “Want me to come with you?”
I bit back tears and shook my head. As much as I didn’t want to be alone right now, I didn’t want him to be there with me for that either. It was bad enough I had to go through it. I didn’t want him to see that.
I faked a smile through my tears and grabbed for the door.
He stopped me with a hand on my arm. I turned, and he cupped my face in his familiar, calloused hands. “Hey. I want you to know I don’t think anything different of you. I’m always gonna be here for you.”
His words broke me, shattering the guard I had around my heart like glass. He may not think differently of me, but I already did.
I already hated myself for the decision I was making.
It’s crazy how you always speculate what you’d do in a situation, but then when that situation actually happens, you find you were completely and totally wrong.
I would hate myself for this for the rest of my life, and yet, I couldn’t manage to stop myself from sliding out of Maverick’s grip and opening the door. I didn’t look back at him as I grabbed my purse. As I shut the door. As I placed one foot in front of the other and forced myself toward the clinic.
My heart thundered in my chest, tears falling so steadily I couldn’t even see. I was like a living, raging storm of emotion.
It’s almost over.
But was it? This was just the beginning. Getting rid of the baby was only one of the steps. What lasting trauma would this cause me?
I’d been irresponsible and now was faced with the consequence of my actions, and instead of bucking up and dealing with those consequences, I was backing out. Giving up. Daddy would be so disappointed.
I hadn’t called him and told him. Same reason I didn’t want anyone else knowing. I was embarrassed. Scared. Scared to know what he thought of me. He’d stayed with my mama even after all the shit she’d done. He’d fought for her until the last night she left. And instead of letting his life go to shambles, he’d stayed. He’d showed up…for me.
Nausea washed through me, making my throat clench on instinct.Oh, dear Lord, please don’t let me be sick.
My breaths sawed in and out of my lungs, yet somehow, I still couldn’t breathe.
Was I really doing this?
I have to.
I placed a hand on the door handle, peered through the foggy glass at the empty waiting room. I wiped at my tears with my free hand, steeling myself for what was to come next when the strangest thought overwhelmed me. It was like getting slammed by a wave in a storm.
An image of me looking down at my stomach. Of a rough, calloused hand pressed to it. An image of Maverick holding a little blanketed bundle, rocking it and showing it the horses. And then the ghost of a song drifting on the wind of “You Are My Sunshine”.
My breath left me in a whoosh, some new emotion swelling and bursting to life in my chest.
I dropped my hand from the door handle, turned on my heel, and made my way back to the truck. Sliding into the passenger seat, I shut the door behind me and whispered, “Drive.”
