Beautiful Sacrifice (Maddox Brothers #3)

“Okay,” I said. “Let’s watch it.”

 

 

Taylor’s eyes brightened, softening my anger. Leaning down in front of the television, he slipped the tape from the sleeve and pushed it into the VCR. When he returned to the couch, he put his hand on my knee, smiling the moment the opening credits began. It was a real smile, something he’d been finding hard to do when around me anymore.

 

The movie was the perfect distraction, allowing us to spend time together without talking, to sit together without addressing the problem.

 

Once the ending credits rolled, I left Taylor for the bathroom to take a shower. I pulled the curtain closed, relieved not to be in the same room with him for a while.

 

Does that mean I’m not ready to move in?

 

As I rinsed the conditioner out of my hair, I cursed myself for knowing exactly how many times I had thought I couldn’t be away from Taylor one more day and how many times I had lain in bed while wishing to God he were with me.

 

Unbelievable. I was annoying myself.

 

I rinsed the soap off my skin and stepped out onto the bath mat, wrapping the towel around me. The mirror was fogged, so all I could see was a fuzzy shape that was supposed to be me. It was exactly the way I felt. Everything was blurry.

 

I slipped an oversized T-shirt and crawled into bed next to Taylor, but he wasn’t eager to get my nightgown off of me like usual. Instead, he pulled my back against his bare chest and held me while we both fought the urge to say anything more on the subject.

 

His body heat seared through my nightgown, and I melted against him. He had already warmed the mattress and the sheets. I wanted him there. Sometimes, I needed it. Going to bed alone after spending even one night with him was miserable.

 

“Falyn,” Taylor said from behind, his voice sounding distant.

 

“Yes?”

 

“I just …” He sighed. “I just want to be with you.”

 

“I know. I want that, too.”

 

“Just not as much as I do. Maybe not at all.”

 

“That’s not true,” I whispered. “We just need a plan, and we’ll make one. But it doesn’t have to be tonight.”

 

He touched his forehead to the back of my shoulder. “How much longer do you want to wait? Just so I have an idea.”

 

I mulled over his question in my mind. I couldn’t say exactly what was keeping me from giving Taylor exactly what he wanted, but I needed more time to find out. “This summer. Can you give me until then?”

 

“To make a plan?”

 

“To move.”

 

He pushed himself up on his elbow, hovering over me. “To Estes Park?”

 

I nodded.

 

He eyed me for a moment. “You sure?”

 

“I’m nervous about it.”

 

“Okay, let’s talk. What are you nervous about?”

 

“Change and … I don’t know, Taylor. Something feels off. I can’t put my finger on it.”

 

Taylor looked wounded.

 

“It’s not you. Or us. Something is just bugging me about it, like it’s not right.”

 

“I’ll make it right,” he said without hesitation. “I just need you to take a leap of faith. Not even a leap. More like a hop.”

 

I touched his face. He had so much hope in his eyes.

 

“Why do you want me to move in with you? We’ve been together less than a year, and you’ve never been in a serious relationship before. You just know?”

 

“I’m sure that I love you. I’m sure that being away from you drives me insane. That’s all I need to know.”

 

“I can’t argue that the distance sucks. If you can commute for three more months, I’ll hop. That will give Phaedra time to find and train someone.”

 

Taylor exhaled as if the wind had been knocked out of him, and then a small smile curled up his lips. “I’ll apply for the station job this week.”

 

He shook his head in awe of my huge gesture. He had no words, so he leaned down and touched his lips to mine, slow at first. Then he touched his hands to my cheeks, and my mouth parted.

 

We celebrated between the sheets for hours, and halfway into the night, I collapsed next to him. Within minutes, he was asleep.

 

As his breathing evened out, I lay awake, staring at the ceiling. The uncertainty and guilt swirled in my stomach, making me feel sick. I had overturned my life once before and survived.

 

Why does moving in with my best friend, with the man I love, seem more frightening than leaving my parents while penniless?

 

I rubbed my temple, feeling as blurry as my reflection in the bathroom mirror. I’d thought maybe if I made a decision, that feeling would go away, but my experiment was an utter failure. The uneasiness became worse. The harder I tried to understand my feelings, the less it made sense. There was something we needed to talk about, something that was still in the way.

 

Taylor shifted, letting his hand rest on my stomach, and then the answer came. If he stayed with me, Taylor would have to make a sacrifice, one with which I was all too familiar. Family was important to him. He had said it before. He couldn’t do what I had done.

 

Why did I think he could give up the possibility of having his own child?

 

My stomach sank. He had done so much for me, and I was going to take that away from him.

 

How can I really love him and allow him to make such a choice?

 

 

 

 

 

Pete chopped green peppers while I spoke, nodding occasionally to let me know he was listening. The sun wasn’t up yet, and his white apron was already covered in smears of brown and green.

 

The kitchen was quiet, except for Pete’s knife against the carving block. Like a typewriter, he tapped over and over before sliding the pieces to the side when he was finished, only to start again.

 

I startled when I heard heavy footsteps descending the stairs. Taylor pushed through the double doors, wearing only a pair of gray cotton shorts and untied boots. He froze when Pete pointed a knife in his direction.

 

Taylor looked at me.

 

“Don’t go near the food,” I explained.

 

Taylor stayed put. “What are you doing?” he asked, crossing his arms to ward off the cold.