Page 58 of The Cost of Love

“I’m sorry, I know this is a lot.” Her laugh is bitter, ground down and presented for me to drink. The taste of her rawness is just how I like it.

“Stop saying sorry to me. Stop saying thank-you. Stop acting like you don’t deserve to have someone be there for you. I am here, and I am not going anywhere.”

She looks into my eyes, and I hope she sees the truth of that statement. I want her to see that I will burn this world down to the ground and rebuild it to her liking. If I can help it, nothing will ever hurt her again.

“That’s good, because your dick is my stress relief.” Her laugh is light, and I am glad she can smile after all of this.

“Since we are talking about my family, I want you to know I don’t want kids. I don’t know if that is a forever thing, but it sure as hell is a fact right now. If I do get pregnant, though, I won’t abort it.” She draws into herself, waiting to see how I will react to that.

I don’t have the right words. There is so much to unpack in that, but the only option right now is to store it away.

“Okay.”

With a smile, she gets up and looks down at her work shirt. I hand her my tee so she doesn’t have to wear that.

“I should go.”

I look at my phone and then at her like she is crazy.

“It’s 5 a.m., you aren’t going anywhere.”

“I really can’t stay.”

“You have no other choice.” I get up and walk over to her, grabbing hold of her hand.

Leading her toward my bedroom, I don’t wait to see if she agrees. I meant what I said.

She changes into my shirt. Crawling under the covers, she settles in. I want to join her, but I’m expected to be in the office in three hours and need to reschedule everything.

“Aren’t you coming?” She curls onto her side, making room for me, her eyes already starting to close.

“Soon, just go to sleep.”

Satisfied, she turns over and finally lets herself rest. I grab my phone and walk into my office. I have a bunch of calls I need to make, but there is one I need to do first.

“Hello, Alex dear.” I knew Liv would be awake. She is too used to her schedule of jogging at 6 a.m. that she won’t let herself sleep in, even while pregnant.

“I need your advice.” My leather chair feels cold to my bare skin as I sit down. It’s the thing I need to wake me back up again.

“At this hour? What did you do, get married or something?”

“Give me a couple of weeks to convince her.” I know I’m not entirely joking.

“Be serious.” Not finding humor in what I said, she sounds tired.

“The girl I told you about, the one I am seeing. Her life is a lot more complicated than I let on, and it seems to just be getting worse. She doesn’t want my help financially, but doing so would improve her situation greatly. Should I push her?” Sitting forward, I rest my elbows on my desk. With no lights on, I stare into the darkness of the office.

“Are you calling me because you did the same thing when I got cut off?”

“Yes.” I breathe out the word, all my frustration inflating it.

She goes quiet for a moment, likely thinking of the best way to explain this to me. I know whatever she has to say, I need to hear.

“Would you say we were financially supported as children?” She is baiting me, but I still take the cheese.

“Obviously.”

“And did that make us feel loved or taken care of?”