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“Seriously, thank you for doing this with me. I just… couldn’t face this alone.”
Farren pulled her clothes from the hangers in the closet she used to share with… him. She could hardly bear to even think his name anymore without the almost physical, wrenching pain in her gut flaring to life.
“You know I got you, Fair Child,” Shea replied as she emptied the clothes from the dresser into a suitcase.
“Don’t forget the stuff from Harley’s room. He’s got some toys in there and clothes we should grab,” Farren’s voice trailed from the closet.
Shea walked out of the bedroom and across the hall to the nursery.
It was quiet for a moment as Farren emerged from the closet and stood looking around the room. She was going to miss so much about this place. She soaked in the sights and smells of it, taking it all in for the last time as a quiet calm settled over her. Not the peaceful type of calm, but more like the dreadful, empty calm in the eye of a storm, where the chaos and devastation ravaged all around.
“Farren?”
She tensed as the deep, familiar voice pulled her from her thoughts. She turned around, realizing she was face to face with the man she was so torn over.
He looked so… defeated. She’d never seen him look so weary, so beaten, as though a lifetime of pain shown through his glass-covered eyes.
He looked as though he hadn’t shaved in days, and his clothes were a bit disheveled, not carefully pressed and put together like they usually were, as if he just didn’t care. This wasn’t like him.
Part of her wanted to go to him, take his face in her hands, and comfort him. God knew she needed the comfort as much as he looked like he did, but she held her ground.
She knew it would just hurt later that much more. She knew she had to let him go.
“I… didn’t know you’d be here,” she admitted.
“I wasn’t. I had to see you,” he said, unmoving, as though he was afraid the slightest motion on his part would scare her away.
She looked past him to the door, then back at him, mentally mapping her escape route. He must have noticed.
“Please don’t go,” he said, seeing where her thoughts were going.
“I shouldn’t be here.”
“You’re wrong,” he said, and she shuddered at the accusation. “You shouldn’t be anywhere else. Here is the one place you should be. You and Harley. Come home, baby,” he implored.
She shook her head trying to blink back the tears from her eyes. “I can’t do this. I have to go.”
She went to rush past him, but he grabbed hold of her, taking her in his arms and pulling her in close to him.
She struggled against him, though part of her – a very significant part of her – wanted nothing more than to melt into him and let him hold her until all the pain went away.
“Let me go, Rogan. Please, let me go.”
He tightened his arms around her. “No, Farren. No! I’ll never let you go. I need you in my life, in our life. You can push me away all you want, but there’s nothing you could ever do to make me leave you! Don’t you get that?”
At his words, she stopped struggling. She’d been waiting her whole life to hear someone say that to her.
He knew it was now or never.
TWENTY TWO
“Farren, I know what you’re thinking-” Rogan began.
“You have no clue what I’m thinking,” Farren interjected with anger. She recoiled from within his embrace and stiffened, balling her hands into fists in frustration.
He paused and started again. “I know what it looks like… but please hear me out.”
He waited, looking down into her eyes until she gave him permission to proceed. She gave him an almost imperceptible nod, so he did.
