“No,” she answered and she didn’t mean to. Her eyes widened at her honesty as he nodded, his gaze holding hers in the mirror.
“Me either,” he admitted and then wiped his mouth. “I would like to talk to you.” She stared at him blankly, surely imagining this as he continued, “When you’re ready, of course.”
“Ready?” she croaked out and he nodded.
“You’re still mad and probably hate me, with good reason—”
“I don’t hate you,” she whispered, looking down at the ground. “No matter how much I wish I did, I don’t.”
When she looked back up, he nodded. “Well, when you’re ready to talk, I’d really like that.”
Did she want to talk to him? Was this his plan to get in her pants and then break her heart again?
“Yeah, okay,” she muttered in a snide way, but that didn’t derail him.
“I really am sorry,” he whispered but she shook her head.
“Yeah, I’m sure.”
“No, really,” he said, bringing her attention to his. “I truly am.”
She didn’t say anything. She didn’t know if she could. His eyes held hers and she begged her resolve to stay strong. To ignore his sad brown eyes, his taut shoulders, or the way he looked like he had been through the wringer. She wanted to brush his hair out of his face, she wanted to comb his beard, she wanted to hold him. But she knew she couldn’t. No matter how much she wanted to, she couldn’t.
He doesn’t love you. Snap out of it.
Looking away, she closed her eyes and soon she heard his door shut. Leaning against the counter, she covered her face and shook her head as the tears spilled onto her hands. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. He was supposed to love her, she was supposed to be holding their baby, and she was supposed to be fucking happy.
Instead, she was in a heap of tears while her ex-lover, who she was still stupidly in love with, slept in the room next to hers.
Her boyfriend was begging for her love.
And her brother had no clue what the hell was going on.
It was easy to say that her life was a fucking mess.
“When did you start cooking?” Karson chortled as Jordie laid a plate of eggs and bacon in front of him. Lacey smiled as she switched arms with Mena Jane so she could eat. Mena was wide awake and alert, watching everything Jordie did. There was something about their relationship that was special. She loved him as he did her, but since the night before, it was hard for Jordie to look at her without thinking that he could have had a baby that looked just like her.
Just like Kacey.
Turning to put the pan back on the burner, he braced himself against the stove and pulled in a breath through his nose. He didn’t sleep any the night before. He stayed up, reliving the last eight months. If he hadn’t been so fucked up, he could be a daddy right now. Maybe he would have let Kacey in, maybe he would be married to her. But then, the more he thought about it, the more he knew he had to go through everything he had to be where he was now. He wouldn’t have been a good man for Kacey. He might have been a good father, but even that wasn’t certain. He needed the help he’d gotten. It was that simple.
Given the chance again, he wouldn’t have left Kacey behind; he would have been honest.
But like Elli said, he had learned from his mistakes. Now it was time to make up for them.
Clearing his throat, he picked the pan back up and made Kacey a plate. She was running late this morning. Or avoiding him. In the past, they would share the bathroom, moving around each other, but this morning he didn’t hear her door open until his shut. It sucked, but she needed time. As much as he was hurting, she was hurting ten times worse. He hadn’t been there for her, she’d had to do it alone, and that really weighed heavy on his heart.
“I cooked a lot in Mountain Care,” he said, speaking of the rehab center as he set her plate on the island. “I actually like it.”