Page 58 of Chasing Liberty

"I'm not prepared for this conversation at the moment."

“You should have thought about that before you decided everything for me.” He didn’t want to be angry, but he felt like a rubber band that had lost its elasticity. “But don’t worry, you’ve made yourself clear.”

"I'm not able to handle this at the moment."

"We're both in this together, Liberty. The loss isn't yours alone."

"Do you believe I'm not aware of that?" Wrinkles formed around her eyes.

"Deciding on something so significant shouldn't be rushed. Let's take some time to consider it."

She sat back down on the edge of the bed. “Do you think I haven’t thought this over and over and over? Before the baby I had made my decision.”

“Why?”

Her bottom lip trembled as if she held back tears. “Because everyone I love loses when they get involved with me.This isn’t your fault, Wyler. It’s all mine. I didn’t want this baby…not at first. I was so wrong becauseI didwant the baby. I’m being punished. In time you’ll see that this is my fault, and you’ll hate me.”

He blinked, trying to put her words together. “Stop, Liberty. Don’t dive into that pit of despair. This isn’t your fault. Neither of us were ready for a baby.” He took a step, but she raised a hand, halting him mid-stride.

“I can’t, Wyler. The guilt is too much. Please go.” She buried her face into her palms.

“Liberty, I want to be here for you.”

But when she ignored him, he knew his attempts were useless. So, he did as she requested, not wanting to cause her any more pain.

He paused at the door and turned back to look at her, “I meant what I said earlier, I love you Liberty, I always will.”

Chapter Sixteen

Wyler poured himself another round of whiskey and his ring caught his attention. He should have removed it by now, but something stopped him. He placed the bottle beside the chair in the cabin where he was relaxing. It had been two weeks since he moved in by himself. He hadn't had a conversation with Liberty since the loss of their baby.

He wanted to be left alone.

Hearing the heavy steps outside, he regretted not securing the front door.

“Wyler, it’s Cave.”

Silence was Wyler's response, hoping Cave would take the hint.

He entered, gazing over the litter of empty wrappers and pizza boxes covering the table. “So, this is your hideout lately.”

“I've just taken a few personal days. Everyone needs a break sometimes,” he responded sourly.

“Wasn't arguing that, pal. Also, found this outside for you.” Cave flicked an envelope by Wyler’s side then sat down, his face etched with concern. “I dropped in to tell you something—Honor gave birth. A daughter, eight pounds, twenty-one inches long, and a full head of black hair.”

“Goddamn, Cave. Congratulations.” Wyler felt both joy and sadness. “Why was that hard to tell me? You looked like you were about ready to spit a tire iron.”

“I know things have been tough lately.”

“You should be proud. You have a wonderful family.”

“Thank you. I didn’t know I could be this happy.” He sat back and stretched his legs, hooking his ankles. “Well, you’re about as bad as I thought you’d be.”

“How so?” Wyler narrowed his gaze.

“Your place looks like a shithole, but it doesn’t come close to how shitty you look. When was the last time you showered?”

He lifted his arm and sniffed his armpit, squinting. “A couple of days.”

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