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In her own time, she’ll come to admit that she wants me.

Needs me.

Loves me.

Almost as much as I love her.

Chapter 27

Elsie

August 12 — 32 Weeks 2 Days, Pineapple

Guilt is not an emotion I’m intimately familiar with. It’s just not something I’ve ever made room for in my life. I pursue what I want and accept the consequences of my actions when needed.

For the first time, the overwhelming feeling of guilt and a bit of shame in my chest is battling with my head for dominance.

I’m doing my job. It’s as simple as that.

I keep trying to justify to myself that I’m doing the right thing, but there’s a pervasive feeling that today is a mistake.

It feels like a betrayal of trust, even if I don’t intend it to be.

“You sure you want to do this?” Oliver asks through the phone.

“I have to.” I sigh. “If we want to keep this client, I need to be at this inspection.”

“We could send someone else. You’re eight months pregnant. You’re not supposed to be traveling. They would understand.” Oliver is quiet for a minute before speaking again. “It’s the only thing he asked of you.”

“What Marshall doesn’t know won’t kill him.” I snap back. “Sorry. I’m just...”

“I know.” He takes a fortifying breath. “I’m going to tell this to you as your friend, not your employee. If you do this, it’s going to blow up in your face.”

“I know,” I reply.

“You know I’ll support your decision, but the marshmallow has kind of grown on me. I don’t want to see him hurt either.” Oliver says solemnly.

“Marshmallow?”

“What? It fits. He’s like a big marshmallow, sickeningly sweet and adorably squishy.” He laughs.

I chuckle before I can help myself and before reality sets back in.

When Marshall quit his job, his only ask from me was that I stop traveling and begin to prioritize our chid, our family, more.

The reminder of the joy on his face when I agreed flashes through my mind and doubles the intense tightness in my chest.

I know without a shadow of a doubt that Marshall cares for me.

I can tell he’s stopped himself from admitting he loves me several times now, but I know why.

He doesn’t know how I’ll respond.

Which is fair, considering I don’t know how I’d respond either.

I care about him. I do.

Wanting what’s best for him and treasuring the time we’ve had together is one thing, but building a life with another person is an entirely different.

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