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Shane’s throat was tight and he remained silent.
“I’m sure you’re already aware of the way her brain works. She’ll push you away if she thinks things are going south. She’ll bury herself again. It’s what she does. How she survives.” Herschel scrubbed at his face and sighed. “Don’t give up on her Shane. Promise me that.”
Shane gave a curt nod and slowly released his bunched fists. He stretched out his fingers and rolled his shoulders once more before turning to leave. He would never give up on Bobbi. He just hoped she had enough faith not to give up on him.
Chapter Three
When the door opened behind Bobbi, her heart sped up so fast that it made her dizzy. Arms crossed over her chest, she shivered, trying to find some warmth and hoping like hell she didn’t crumple to the floor in a pile of loose limbs and weak bones.
Focus, she thought, staring out the window at the swirling snow.
“It’s getting bad out there,” she whispered, and winced—lame attempt at deflection and not something Shane would fall for.
She heard Shane’s boot scuff across the worn floorboards of her old bedroom and saw his reflection in the window. Their eyes caught and she swallowed away the tightness in her throat.
“Your grandfather’s in bed. He’s good for the night,” Shane said quietly.
“Did he talk you in
to giving him a shot of whiskey?”
“I could lie and say no, but…”
She closed her eyes. That knotted pit in her stomach wasn’t going away anytime soon, and she knew that small talk wasn’t going to solve their problems.
“Bobbi,” Shane said, voice low and rough. “We need to figure this out and it can’t wait any longer.”
Eyes still squeezed shut, she nodded. “I know.”
Seconds ticked by. Seconds that turned into long moments of strained silence.
“Bobbi, I’m not talking to the back of your head so turn around.”
She exhaled and slowly turned to face Shane. He’d tossed his navy Henley on her bed and stood watching her intently. His white T-shirt stretched tight across wide shoulders and the paleness of the color against his dark skin made the tattoo on his bicep more dramatic than it already was.
Without thinking, she touched her own tattoo, there behind her ear, a Gaelic symbol that they shared. A symbol that meant forever. She tried to find that place of calm but it seemed to have fled, and she bit her bottom lip, shivering again.
“Look at me Bobbi.”
She dragged her eyes up to his.
“I could make small talk and ease into this, but I gotta tell ya, I don’t think that’s going to work. We’re way beyond small talk. Something’s been off for weeks now and for the life of me, I have no idea what it is. But this can’t go on. You have to stop pulling away from me.”
He was right. Of course he was right.
“I don’t think that I can have a child,” she whispered, surprised that the words fell out of her like that. So easy—deceptively so. Because the words were anything but easy. They were hard, and they were brutally honest.
“I don’t understand.” Shane paused and she saw his confusion.
“I mean I can physically have a child, at least I think I can, but I don’t…I don’t think that I can do it,” she said, heart in her throat and beating so loud that it filled her ears. “And I know that you want kids and it’s not fair and…” Her voice trailed off because she wasn’t sure what to say and even if she had the right words, they were stuck inside her.
Shane ran his hands through his thick waves and cocked his head to the side. His eyes were soft, kind of sad, and in that moment, she felt as if he could see into her soul.
“Okay,” he said after a few moments. “Okay.”
“But it’s not okay,” she replied, taking a step forward. “You want kids. How does that make this okay? How are we ever going to make that work?”
“I want kids with you, Bobbi.” He swore under his breath. “But if that’s a game changer for you, I’ll deal with it.”
