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Like it’d all been worth it.
To go through that so I could come here, run into her and this thing we had. A relationship and one I could put my hands on and feel the realness of it.
And not the deceit beneath.
I hoped she felt that too, and I knew she did. I’d seen it in the shower. I’d seen it every day and every time we were together. She had feelings for me as real and tangible as I felt. She had love for me.
Like I had for her.
Her smile held no joy, no happiness. In fact, it shifted into nothing but sadness when she placed it in my direction.
“Because I have so long to try.” She laughed, but again, no humor. She faced me. “I’m thirty-five years old, Ramses, and even if I did change my mind—which I won’t—I don’t have the time. I don’t have those years.”
“There are other ways to have children, Brielle,” I said, this topic delicate, sensitive. I nodded. “Adoption. Surrogacy—”
“I said I won’t change my mind!”
My head lifted, my mouth closing. I saw what she was doing here completely.
And I think she saw it too.
She was running without actually running from me, but the difference was, I knew how she operated now.
I knew her.
She pushed, and I pushed back. I’d always push back.
Since this was delicate, I decided to choose my words carefully. There were a lot of emotions in this conversation, and only some of them had to do with us, me and our relationship. This woman had a history, traumas that had nothing to do with me. But still, there was one thing she needed to know about me.
I placed my hands together. “I’m never going to be the reason you walk away,” I said, surprising her. I shook my head. “I will never give you that, nor be your permission to step back. Make no mistake about that, Brielle.”
And I wouldn’t, I’d stand by her on this. The ball would always be in her court. At least, when it came to this.
She closed her eyes. “What if that’s not what I want?”
My throat tightened. “I’d say you need to tell me, but when it comes to this?” My shoulders lift. “You don’t get a choice. I’m here in this, and I won’t be your reason.”
I refused.
I wouldn’t give her the easy way out, and this wouldn’t be easy. It would be hard and something we’d both have to work at every day. She had her issues and I had mine, and we were in different places in our lives.
Call me a masochist, but that was what made this shit exciting, made it real and worth fighting for. We knew this worked because we fought for that shit. We didn’t give up, problems be damned.
I guided her chin to look at me, but she only ended up pressing her head to my chest. Her arms ensnared my waist, and I held her, warmed her. I kissed her head. “I wish you’d just give up on this.”
“What?”
My chin touched the top of her head. “Trying to run me off. Scare me away.”
I didn’t bend easy, and I made no exception when it came to her. If she wanted to end this, she’d have to do it herself.
Even if that possibility rattled me to hell.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Ramses
A dumbbell clanked to the floor beside me, and at the sight of a familiar face, I shook my head. I curled my weight. “You know, you don’t have to pretend you just happened to be here when I am.” I smirked. “For December?”
