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“How is that my fault?” she cried.
“I don’t make a single move in a day without thinking of you first.”
She deflated. “You can’t say stuff like that.”
“What about I don’t want you to go? Can I say that?” I yanked on my hair. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to hold on to this apartment. It won’t be long before my cash depletes. My assets are frozen. I can’t participate in the business I love. But if I end up on the streets with nothing left, it will be okay as long as you’re with me.”
Her lips parted. She searched my face. The old Lincoln Hollingsworth would’ve never admitted any of those things out loud. I hadn’t thought it through. I’d acted on impulse. Wasn’t there a lot more at stake if I didn’t?
What kind of an offer was that to a woman who deserved the best in this life? She needed stability, something I could’ve given her a few months ago. But then, my heart wasn’t available. Now, it was the most I could guarantee.
“You—you can’t say stuff like that.” This time it was a plea for mercy.
I opened my arms wide. “This is it. This is all I have to give you and Eric. And whether you want it or not, it’s yours.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Lexie
Boom.
I was frozen.
Lincoln had left what felt like a lifetime ago when I’d been too stunned to respond.
You’re an idiot and an ass, Lexie.
He’d bared his soul in a way only he could, and I’d just stood there . . . in complete and total shock. It was the worst reaction in the history of reactions. But if I had a do-over, I had no idea what I’d do differently.
It was too much to take in.
He didn’t want us to go?
He was mine whether I wanted him or not?
Ours. He wanted both me and Eric.
His financial situation—frozen assets and all—meant nothing to me other than he’d worked hard to achieve such success. How difficult it must be facing the possibility of going from this—I glanced around the opulent foyer—to an apartment like ours?
And to think that if he lost everything, he thought he’d be okay as long as we were in his life?
I couldn’t even begin to digest the concept.
Lincoln was the rock for his family . . . and lately for me.
He didn’t need anyone, but it wasn’t just his words that had me stuck in place. It was the way he said them. The rawness, the openness, the unadulterated truth in them.
It was as if he’d ripped his soul open and showed me what it looked like.
I slid down the wall until I hit the floor.
It was too much. I’d been blinded by his inner beauty . . . his honesty.
One second, he’d been bossing me about and the next handing me all the power. Because though he hadn’t said it, I had the choice to stay or go. He’d laid out everything and left what happened next completely up to me.
For a man like Lincoln, freely offering someone else control couldn’t have been easy. Yet he’d confidently spoken every word.
I wasn’t afraid to feel or speak my mind, but I couldn’t have been as candid as he was. Obviously. Since I’d been rendered useless.
