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Patch, whose old lady had a habit of getting pregnant—thus the sidecar—had made excellent use of his cell phone in the park’s main Visitors Center parking lot, where Ellie had parked my truck. His woman made an emergency call to her baby doctor and then got me word of which hospital to take Ellie and Peter to immediately upon arrival in town, so we were able to get the baby checked out first.

Throughout the whole rest of the day and night, at the hospital while they were putting the baby through a slew of tests—an echocardiogram, chem levels, other stuff I didn’t know what—Ellie would not look at me. She wouldn’t meet my eyes. I tried to hold her hand once, but she pulled away from that, too.

I knew she was stressed out. I knew her emotions must have been overwhelming. I knew she was exhausted and probably dehydrated. I tried not to take it personally. But it was feeling personal. And it did not sit well.

I stayed pretty silent. I got her water, juice, milk, food, magazines, a pillow and a blanket—anything and everything I could think of to make her more comfortable.

And I got nothing back from her. She accepted the gifts with nods. She really wasn’t even speaking to me.

It was starting to freak me out, but I figured the hospital where her baby was being tested and poked and prodded was neither the time nor the place to have a come-to discussion.

I had no idea what she thought I had done wrong, so along with the rejection, I was starting to get pissed off. We were supposed to be pulling together by this point. What the hell was wrong with her?

Finally, after long hours, Peter was pronounced well enough to go home. He had been severely dehydrated, but nothing else came up to show that he was otherwise any the worse for wear from the whole damned ordeal.

I escorted them back home, she showered and changed into her pajamas, and I paced. When she emerged from the bathroom, she aimed directly for her bedroom, but I was standing in the arch that led from the living room to the bedroom hallway, my arms braced above me on the frame, waiting to get her attention.

She knew it. She knew she owed me an explanation of whatever it was that was going on in her head. So she stopped and looked at me. Her face looked like death.

I took a step toward her, wanting nothing more than to hold her in my arms, to smell her clean scent, to comfort her with my body, to breathe her in.

But she took a step back and wouldn’t look at me.

She didn’t speak for a minute. We both waited it out.

“I almost lost him. I almost lost him, Jack, because I wasn’t focused on him. I can’t allow that to happen again. I have one job, and I failed. So—I’m sorry, Jack, but I really need to—I can’t allow myself to be distracted. Not by…I…”

I knew what was coming, now. I got it.

“Me.”

She looked up at me sadly. “Yeah.”

We stared into each other’s eyes for several seconds, and I felt like the wind had been punched out of my gut. But I understood.

“I need to do this, Jack. I need to learn how to do this on my own, with and for Peter. I can’t allow… I just need to know that I can be enough, and do this on my own. I know we need your help, that there’s still a long time to go to get the trust. But…” Again, she didn’t want to put it all in words.

“I get it, Ellie. You want me out of the picture.”

She didn’t respond, still didn’t look at me. But she closed her eyes, her head turned away.

Fuck. I hadn’t seen this coming.

I was gutted, but needed to get us through this, figure it out. I didn’t want her to see how her decision affected me. Here I’d been thinking…well. Obviously, I was wrong. I spun out our next moves, to make this easier for both of us.

“So, here’s how we play this. I’ll move into an apartment ’til the six months are up, you and Peter stay in the house. It’s easier for you here. When you get the money, we can get you settled wherever you want. I don’t want to make this hard for you. But I want you to remember: I am and will always be a part of Peter’s life, and by extension, a part of yours. I’m not going away like that. You got me?”

She turned her back on me and moved to her bedroom door, nodded briefly, and shut me out.

Chapter 24

Ellie

It had been three weeks. Three long, miserable weeks.

As promised, Jack had moved out the very next day. I didn’t know where he was staying; I didn’t ask, and he didn’t tell me.

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