Page 117 of Forking the Billionaire

“Get away from me,” she screamed.

I was making everything worse. “I’m sorry.”

“Fuck you.”

I backed out of the bathroom, my head spinning.

The door slammed shut.

I loved her. I loved our baby.

Love wasn’t enough.

I could never be what she needed me to be. I wasn’t equipped for fatherhood or relationships. I didn’t deserve a family.

The worst thing I could do right now was hang around and make her more upset. She was pregnant, and when I blinked, all I could see on the back of my eyelids was that puddle of red staining the beach.

Upset her more, and it might not be a close call next time.

I went back outside the building and paced in the sand. Esme didn’t follow.

I waited for an agonizing eternity, trying to figure out what I could say to repair the damage I’d caused.

If I told her now that I loved her, she’d see it as me trying to use my feelings as an excuse. I didn’t want that. When I said the words, I needed her to feel the truth and sincerity in them.

There was nothing I could say.

I couldn’t go back inside that bathroom, as much as it pained me. She’d made her wishes completely clear.

She wanted me away from her, so as much as it hurt, I did as she asked and walked back toward the bonfire, my heart shredded to pieces.

THIRTY

ESME

I paced back and forth, buzzing like a battered hornet’s nest.

Jasper was the astronaut.

Jasper was the father.

How dare he? What all exactly I was pissed at him for, I wasn’t entirely sure. For having mutantly aggressive sperm—maybe. For knowing he was the father and not telling me—definitely.

I wanted to go beat something with a stick. I needed to move. I couldn’t be here. I headed outside and took two steps back toward the beach, before twisting on my heel and running in the opposite direction.

Gabe didn’t tell me when he found the truth about where our mother had run off to. No one told me when Dad got sick. Everyone kept secrets from me for my whole life. Why should I expect anything different from Jasper?

Why should I think that he was different? That we were different?

There was nowe.

Our tryst had always had an expiration date. And he’d always planned to leave.

What I’d seen as connection was nothing but a fluke. A short-term distraction from both of our lives.

He very clearly didn’t need me. He was content to leave the island without even letting me know that he was the father of my baby.

I didn’t need him, either.

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