Page 16 of Worth the Risk

“Zoey… is there something you want to tell me?”

Chapter Six: Ford

I’m an idiot.

I already came to that conclusion over the course of the last week, as I tried to force myself to adjust to life without Zoey. I told myself that I could do it, could just go back to being the man I was before we started dating.

But that man didn’t exist anymore. Zoey had imprinted herself onto me in such a way that I was completely lost without her. I needed to hear her voice to feel like the world was spinning the right way.

The night I ruined everything, I felt like someone reached inside my body and scooped everything out, leaving me hollow and numb.

I should’ve never broken up with her. I was foolish and overwhelmed and clearly not thinking straight. That day, I was hit with an uncomfortable truth about the price we could pay for our relationship, and I convinced myself that the best thing to do was to end it.

Zoey didn’t fully understand my reasons, and that was another misstep on my part. I already didn’t treat her like an equal partner when I spent half a year hiding her in the shadows of my life. Choosing to end our relationship without talking to her about my doubts was just another way I disrespected her.

I knew I had a lot to make up for, and I’d been thinking about how to do it for days. I didn’t want to approach her at the hospital. We’d already blurred the line between our personal and professional lives, and I could tell that working with me wasn’t easy for her after that terrible night.

I knew how important Zoey’s job was to her. She didn’t do it because she needed the money. She had a trust fund that she could live off of if she wanted to. She chose to work, and her compassion led her to nursing. It meant something to her. She wanted to make a difference in people’s lives, and she chose the emergency department because she thrived on the intensity of it.

In the past week, she’d been as professional as ever at the hospital, doing her job well and speaking to me only when necessary. She wouldn’t even look at me. But she didn’t have to in order for me to see the hurt that lingered in her eyes. The way that she tried to avoid me as much as possible was killing me.

And I deserved it.

I’d made a stupid, rash decision when I ended our relationship, so I was determined to make things right. That was why I waited until we were here on the island.

I knew it would be a perfect, romantic getaway and even with friends and family surrounding us, I was sure I could get time alone with her to make up for my mistake.

But I didn’t realize just how massive that mistake was until I picked up this bottle of prenatal vitamins. There was only one reason that Zoey would be taking these.

She stared at me with wide eyes, not saying a word.

“Are you pregnant?” I asked, my throat tight.

I didn’t move—didn’t breathe—as I waited for her answer. Zoey’s eyes shifted to the ground, and she let out a long shuddering breath.

“Yes.”

That one word changed my center of gravity. She was pregnant. My woman was carrying my child. The reality of that was too huge to fully comprehend. At the moment, all I could process was a primal rush of satisfaction.

I surged to my feet, the pill bottle still in my hand as I wrapped my arms around her. Something tight that had lived in my chest for a week loosened as I inhaled the scent of her floral perfume. God, I missed this so much.

What the fuck was I thinking, breaking up with her?

I was so relieved to be close to her again that I didn’t immediately realize that she was stiff against me. It was when she shoved against my chest that it hit me that she wasn’t hugging me back. She wasn’t really strong enough to push me away, but I stepped back anyway, my hands running down her arms and grasping her hands. My thumbs ran over her knuckles as I searched her face.

She was frowning, but it was the anger in her eyes that made my heart drop.

“What are you doing?” she asked furiously, yanking her hands free from my hold.

I blinked. “Zoey… I’m sorry. I never should’ve tried to end things between us…”

“Tried?” She scoffed and reached for the handle of her suitcase. “You didn’t try to end things. You succeeded. Me being pregnant doesn’t change that.”

She shoved open the door to her bungalow and dragged her suitcase in behind her. I followed before she could shut the door in my face.

I quickly took in the fact that we were standing in a small living room area with white furniture and beachy decor. There was a kitchen to the right, a closed door to the left, and across the room, sliding doors led out to a deck facing the ocean.

It was nice, but I didn’t like that she was staying here alone, away from everyone else. Away from me.