“Graham,” she said on a sigh. “Zach adores you. Of course he was proud of you, and not just because you won.”
“Good. So consider coming out to watch me in a bigger match. When the stakes are as high as they’ll get for me. Come watch. It might mean taking Zach out of school for a day,” he went on quickly, “but he’s a bright kid. I can’t see that being an issue for him.”
Academically, no. But he missed so many days due to doctor’s appointments and minor reactions, that she didn’t like to risk taking him out for frivolous days here and there.
Graham competing in the All Military games is not frivolous.
And it didn’t matter, anyway.
“Let me stop you there.” Be firm, Kara. “We can’t come.”
His spirit drooped. There was no other way to put it. It was as if something inside him deflated. “Yeah, okay. It’s last minute anyway.”
“Not because of that. Because of . . . things. The main reason I’ve been pushing back when you’ve been fighting to get closer to us. The reason there’s no future for us.”
His face turned mutinous, just like Zach’s did when he was fighting a battle of wills against her. “That’s bullshit, but fine. Whatever it is, put it on the table, let’s come up with a way to fix it, and move ahead.”
“You’re so sure we can fix it.” It made her smile, the determination in his eyes, in the hardness of his jaw. He would tackle the world to make her happy. She felt it. This was a man a woman would be lucky to have in her life, in her corner, in her everything.
“You’re amazing, and resilient and resourceful and sexy as hell. And I can punch stuff. Together, we’re the Dream Team.”
That made her laugh, which was a gift after all the crying she’d done that evening. And all the crying she might still do yet. “Why do you have to make it difficult to not love you?”
He was quiet at that, as if thinking about the answer. Then finally, quietly, he said, “Because I love you, and sort of want the same thing in return.”
Her heart stopped. Her blood chilled. Her fingers pricked and tingled with the loss of feeling. Somehow, despite her best intentions, she’d screwed up again.
“Let me tell you a story,” she began, sitting across from him now, not touching. If she touched him—or he touched her—she might collapse and they’d accomplish nothing. “I got pregnant when I was eighteen.”
“Young,” he murmured, but with no accusation in his tone.
“Yes. Very. Barely eighteen, but still a child in too many ways. I was several months along when I graduated high school. The first time I felt Zach kick, I was sitting in my cap and gown, listening to our principal drone on about the wonders of our future lives, reaching for our dreams, never giving up, all that cliché stuff you hear at a graduation.” Graham’s eyes slid down her torso to her stomach, and she looked down, realizing she’d cupped her belly as if she could once again feel that tiny life fluttering around inside of her. “It’s a feeling you don’t forget.”
“I can imagine.”
“I joked with myself later that Zach literally kicked me across the stage to take my diploma. He was the reason I graduated at all.”
“What did your parents think?”
“They didn’t know, at the time. I hadn’t told anyone, even Marianne. I was determined to make it through high school before telling anyone. Fortunately, those tops that are sort of tight around the bust and then flow out around your waist were in style at the time, so I was able to carry it off the last few weeks of school.”
“And once you told your parents? You never really talk about them. Do they not live around?”
Her hand shook as she reached up to redo her hair into another messy bun. “They do. They haven’t seen Zach since he was about five, except for one time maybe two years ago when he and I ran into my mother in Target by complete accident. She . . .” Kara took a deep breath, and let it out again on a shudder. “She looked at me, with this shocked sort of horror, then turned and walked away. Like I was a stranger. Nothing to her.”
Graham simply rubbed her shoulder.
“They . . . don’t agree with the life I’ve set up for myself.”
His hand tightened, just a little, on her shoulder. “What, being an awesome mother who provides for her kid even when his father won’t? Being a smart entrepreneur with a mind on growing that small business? Being healthy and keeping her son’s allergies in check, which is a daily battle, while helping other people who are facing the same challenges? Yeah. I can see where the disappointment comes into play.” His voice was full of scorn, and anger.
She patted his knee gently, then took her hand back. “It used to matter. It doesn’t anymore. But thanks for that. I’ve never considered myself an entrepreneur before.”
“Of course you are. Your blog earns money. It’s a small business. You gain and maintain private yoga clients. Give yourself some credit, Kara.”
I love you. I love you so much.
It would hurt them both, deeply, if she admitted it out loud.