“You were happy at your creative writing course. You were working on your future. You had everything I wanted you to have, and what did I do? I took you away from all of it!”
Pacing again, I struggled for air. “I didn’t ask if you wanted to live in a goddamn tent. I didn’t discuss with you what you thought about abandoning everything. I ran the moment it got hard between us, and I snatched you for mine the moment I knew I couldn’t survive without you.”
Della shifted again, her forehead furrowed, and hands balled.
I didn’t know if it was from pain or anger, but I had no hope of stopping everything I’d bottled up. These dirty, awful conclusions that had whispered cruelly in my ear as I’d sat in the doctor’s waiting room. Waiting and not knowing if I’d be told good news or bad. Waiting and not knowing what was wrong with my Della and what I’d done to cause it.
Because it had to have been me.
Because I should’ve known better and not been so fucking selfish.
“I love you, Della. And I’m so fucking sorry I did this to you. I’m sorry I have no money to keep you healthy. I’m sorry I have no career to build you the house you deserve. I’m sorry I somehow got you pregnant and now you’re sick and in pain and there’s absolutely nothing I can do about it. I’m sorry for all of it, but you should know that when it comes to you, I’m useless. I wanted you, so I stole you. I loved you, so I kept you. I didn’t stop to think that by making you mine, I owed you more than I ever did before. I owe you a life that everyone else has. I owe you a stable environment. I owe you a man who can fucking provide and who isn’t afraid of humanity, for God’s sake!”
“Ren, stop—”
“No!” My eyes narrowed to sniper scopes, a cough exploding from my lips. “Let me finish.” My chest rose and fell, spikes stabbing my lungs as I inhaled with even worse admittances. “With you, I’m the rawest form of myself. I obey no laws, I follow no rules. If someone hurts you, I will hurt them back, ten times worse. No, a thousand times worse, because you mean more to me than anything. I would kill for you, Della. My entire purpose on this earth is to love and take care of you. I’ve been doing it for almost twenty years, and I plan on doing it for another twenty and beyond. But how the fuck can I mean that when I’m the problem? All this time, I believed I was protecting you from them when I should’ve been protecting you from myself!”
Dragging a hand over my mouth, I shook my head as a future I’d always wanted incinerated into dust with reality. “What if we do end up having a family, huh? What happens when you’re in labour and about to give birth? Do I expect you to suffer on your own and deliver in a forest that hides your screams? Do I think I can just drop you off at the hospital when it’s time with no I.D or money, and a few hours later, we’ll walk back to our tent with a goddamn new-born? A new-born who needs shelter and safety and a mother who is healthy and happy and has a bed and a shower and a fridge and a roof—”
“Ren!” Della climbed off the bed, flinching as another wash of agony worked through her. “Enough. None of that matters. We’re not having children yet. It’s fine—”
“But don’t you see? It’s not fine. It’s shown me just how precarious all of this is. How I’ve been so fucking blind and wrapped up in this fantasy that we can stay wild and not suffer any consequences. How did I not see this? How did I not understand that this life can never be permanent? It’s too risky. I need a job. I need to provide for you. I need to stop being a creature who thinks a tent is a suitable home and be a man instead and build you the life you deserve—build you a future we both want and a future we can’t have unless I grow the fuck up.”
My pacing ended by the chair, and I collapsed into it, all my rage depleted. All my terror shared. All my worries tainting the air just like they’d tainted my mind.
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I murmured, “I just can’t stop thinking that I did this to you, and you’re the one paying for my mistakes. That this would never have happened if we’d just stayed in our old apartment and figured this out in a place where humans are meant to live, not drag you halfway across the country with nothing.”
“Ren.” Della cut in. “Ren, look at me.”
It took a monumental effort, but I did.
She sat on the side of the bed, whitewashed and tear-streaked.
Our eyes locked, and the love I felt for her poured free in painful waves, obliterating my anger, commanding I go to her.
I couldn’t fight it.
I’d never been able to fight it.
I needed her as much as she needed me, and I’d fucking shouted at her while she was ill.
Christ, I’m a bastard.
Storming toward her, I climbed onto the mattress—boots, knives, and all—and pulled her into my arms. Tucking her back under the covers, I kissed the top of her head and breathed in her delicate scent of pine and earth and air. “I’m sorry, Little Ribbon. I didn’t mean to say all that. I’m just…I’m so scared of losing you.”
Snuggling into me, she wiped her tears on my chest. “I know this is hard for you. I guess it would be hard for anyone when they first hear they’re pregnant and what it all means. But you can’t believe that you took me into the forest against my will, Ren. I love our life. I love our tent and simplicity and freedom. If I didn’t, I would tell you.”
My breath still came fast and haggard, but the crazed terror faded a little as I hugged her harder. My heart stopped its fanatical beating, slipping back into a rhythm I knew.
She kissed my t-shirt, whispering, “You didn’t do this to me, and you do provide for me. You’ve provided for me all my life, and no one could’ve done it better. So please don’t worry about the future, Ren. And please don’t think you’ll ever lose me because you won’t. I promise.”
“How can you promise something like that?”
“Because I know love transcends blood and bone. Yes, eventually we will die, but we’re bound to one another. For eternity.” Kissing my t-shirt again, she worked her way to my collarbone and whispered into my feverish skin. “You have my word if, heaven forbid, anything happens to me, I’ll wait for you to join me. Death isn’t our ending, Ren. Promise me you won’t stop sleeping with me or prevent us from having a family one day because you’re afraid of life itself. And all the rest of it—the house and money and things—it will work out. You’ll see.”
I held her for a long time, her heart thudding against mine, imprinting her shape and curves against me, allowing our connection to eradicate my fury and accept that I wasn’t truly angry, just petrified.
Finally, I kissed her hair. “Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me.”
“I do. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
She smiled up from my arms. “Well, lucky for you, you’ll never have to find out.”
Echoes of her promising that we’d always be together, even past death, made me clutch her as hard as I could.
She squeaked a little in protest, but I tipped her chin up with my knuckles and kissed her lips. I’d wanted to keep the kiss tame and sweet, but the moment I tasted her, my tongue crept into her mouth and hers met mine in invitation.
A quick kiss turned into a sensual make-out, our lips gliding, tongues dancing, hearts kicking.
And when I finally pulled back, my chest burned with the same promise she’d given me. “You have my word in return. If anything happens to me, I’ll wait for you to join me. You’re mine, Della. Always will be.”
She relaxed, breathing easier. “Good.”
“Fine,” I murmured, like we usually did at the end of an argument, releasing the final tension.
Reclining into the pillows still fully dressed, I waited until Della found a comfortable position with her head on my chest and body spooning my side before I stroked her hair with shaking fingers. “Now, go to sleep, woman. I’m not going anywhere.”