“It’s not furniture. What it is, is temporary. You won’t even commit to real chairs, but I’m supposed to think you’re ready for a commitment to me?”
Temper flared through her. “I saw an old, plaid recliner sitting on the side of the road the other day with a Free sign on it. So if I go drag that into my living room, does that mean I’m good enough for you?”
“This is the most ridiculous conversation I’ve ever had in my life.”
“Feel free to end it at any time.”
“Is that what you want?” He locked gazes with her, his eyes sad. “For me to end it?”
An ache started in her chest and she had to resist rubbing at the spot. “I meant ending this conversation and you know that. I feel like you’re looking to pick a fight and you’re going to keep picking until I throw you out.”
“And I feel like you’re coming up with excuses not to address what I’m actually trying to say.”
“Because what you’re trying to say isn’t something I want to hear,” she admitted. “You’re talking about a level of commitment that scares me. I’m not stupid, Drew. I know inflatable pool floats are not furniture. I accumulated a bunch of stuff that meant nothing to me over my life and I tossed it out. You saw for yourself that everything I owned fit in my car. I let everything else go, but those blow-up chairs are bright and fun and, most importantly, they were from new friends—Paige and Hailey—to celebrate a fun night in my new house to start my new life.”
“I know you’re not stupid.”
“They make me smile. I’ve never owned anything before that made me happy just to look at them. I want the freedom to explore what else is waiting in my new life.”
“I don’t understand why a child with me can’t be a part of your new life.”
His single-mindedness was the match that lit her temper. “Does it even matter that it’s me or am I just convenient? Hey, Liz had sex with me once, so she’ll do it again and I’ll have a baby.”
Some of the color drained from his face and his jaw clenched. “Is that what you think? You think I’m just looking for...what, an incubator? That any woman will do?”
“That’s how it feels right now.”
He shook his head, staring off at a space over her shoulder. “I knew getting involved with you was a mistake right from the beginning.”
That hurt more than she could ever have imagined, even though she understood what he meant. She’d known it, too. She wasn’t ready to be involved with a man who wanted to be on the fast track to a wife and family, but she couldn’t resist him and she’d done it anyway.
And now they’d both pay.
“You should go,” she said quietly.
“Liz, I—”
“You should go now before anything else gets said that can’t be taken back. We’re going to have to be around each other for a long time, so the less ugly this gets, the sooner we can maybe be friends again.”
“I don’t want to be your friend. I want to be your husband.”
She hadn’t thought she could feel any worse than when he’d said she was a mistake. “No, Drew. You want to be the father of my children first and everything else after. I may not know what I want in life, but I know I don’t want that.”
He stared at her for what seemed like forever, sadness so heavy on his face. She knew he cared about her. He might even love her. But she also knew he was going to turn and walk out her door because she wasn’t what he needed.
Knowing it was coming didn’t make it hurt any less when he did.
*
Drew spent the night sitting on his couch, staring at the empty fireplace and wondering how his life had gone totally to shit in such a short time.
It was his own damn fault. Once he’d brought up their living together and she’d pulled away, he felt compelled to clarify their relationship. Where they were and where they were going. But he’d screwed it up so badly, it would never be fixed.
When his alarm went off, he got up off the couch, showered and got dressed for work. He thought about calling in sick, but the idea of sitting alone in his house all day made his skin crawl. Then he went to work.
“You okay, Chief?” Bob Durgin asked when he walked by the officer’s desk.
Drew didn’t stop walking. “Yeah. Just Monday blues, I guess.”
He forced himself to offer Barbara a smile and a wave so she wouldn’t follow him into his office to cluck over him. Being fussed over would just make him feel worse because he didn’t deserve sympathy. He’d been a jerk and then, instead of trying to figure out the right thing to say to de-escalate the conversation, he’d walked out on her.
He put his bad mood to work, plowing through paperwork, making calls and getting results. Anything to keep his mind busy so he would stop replaying the nightmare of last night over and over in his mind. Everything he shouldn’t have said. And everything he should have.