Page 161 of Halo

Fuck.

“Leah, I—”

“No one knew, Nick.” She turns to look at me, our eyes meeting. “No one. I wasn’t ready for them to know.”

“I’m sorry. I was pissed and he—”

“I don’t care,” she chokes out, heading inside. She calls for her dog and grabs her purse and keys from the counter.

As she storms back outside, I scramble after her. “Where are you going?”

“Away.”

“Leah, wait. Please …” I reach for her, but she pulls away.

“Don’t.” The hurt in her eyes stops me cold. “I need space from you.”

“Please … just … stay. We can talk about this.”

“I don’t want to talk right now.”

Matt steps toward her from the porch. “Leah, come home. We can—”

“No.” She points between the two of us. “Both of you, just leave me alone.” She walks past him toward her car, and this time, I don’t follow.

I fucked up.

The realization settles like a stone in my stomach as her car disappears down the street.

I glare at Matt for a moment, then head back into my house without a word.

“I heard yelling.” Grady peeks around the corner from the kitchen, his eyes wide and anxious

“Hey, partner …” I kneel down and embrace him. “That probably sounded very scary, but everything’s okay.”

The lie nearly strangles me.

But everything is not okay.

I’m already in the fight of my life for custody of my son, and I just fucked things up with the one person I’ve ever loved.

A frigid chill slips down my back.

I could lose her, too.

And I can’t.

I just fucking can’t.

Chapter 40

Leah

Great romances have always gotten one thing right: there’s something dreamy about a man who makes his adoration impossible to miss. Surprise picnics, just-because flowers, little I wanted to see you smile gifts, love notes in his handwriting tucked into unexpected places. Tender, thoughtful gestures that make a person feel cherished, like she’s a prize. Like out of everyone in the world, she’s the one he chose and continues to choose.

But even the iconic love stories end before the hard part—before the first real fight, the first hurt feeling, the first moment that is anything but lovely. Then again, maybe that’s where the real romance begins—when losing it becomes a real possibility and suddenly there’s no denying how much it matters.

For the past week, Nick has respected the space I asked for without ever letting me forget he’s still there. He made me fresh tortillas and had a courier deliver them while they were still warm.