Page 35 of Hidden By His Side

She tried to push down the thrill rising in her heart. “That’s not fair to you.”

“I decide what’s fair to me.” He brushed her hair back from her face when it swung forward. “I want to take care of you, Summer. Like I’ve always done.”

“It’s not just me you’d be taking care of.” Her gaze lowered, and she stared at her hands pressed to his chest, sosmall against him. “I should get an abortion.” The words felt wrong, even though they were true. Who did she think she was? She couldn’t become a mom. She couldn’t even take care of herself, much less another human being.

His warm hands cupped her face, forcing her eyes up to his. “If you don’t want his baby, you don’t have to have it. You know that, right?”

A coldness slithered inside her. Ramiro knew her better than anyone, and he didn’t think she should have this baby. He’d been hinting at it all along.

She should just listen to him. She expected relief to flood in, but the twisting in her stomach got worse.

“I remember what the last pregnancy did to you. I don’t ever want to see you at that low point again.”

“It’s different this time,” Summer murmured. “I chose to have sex.” Back then, the poison from her rape had curled up inside her, corroding everything she’d been to dust. There wouldn’t have been anything left of her if she’d kept the baby. She would have become nothing but the writhing hatred coating her within.

She was still less than nothing. The only moments she felt lighter were when she was with Ramiro.

“Abortion isn’t just for rape,” Ramiro said.

He hated kids. He’d leave if she kept the child. She’d lose him.

“You’re right.” Her lips felt numb. “I’d be a terrible mother. I’ll get rid of it.”

“What are you saying?” Ramiro’s touch left her as he pushed up from the bed, his gaze intent on hers. “Don’t put words in my mouth. This has nothing to do with whether or not you’d be a good mother. You’d be a wonderful mother.”

The ice inside cracked. “No. I’m a mess. You have to take care of me.”

“Igetto take care of you, Summer. There’s a difference.”

“I fall apart all the time. I’m always crying on you. I—”

“Don’t you dare take that away from me.” Ramiro’s jaw hardened as his hands clamped down on her shoulders.

Summer blinked at him. “What? No, I—”

“Stop talking. Right now.”

Her mouth snapped shut.

“You’re going to listen to me. Summer, you’re the only person I know who feels as deeply as you do. You try to hide it, and each time you do, it just becomes harder. Stop—” He shook her hard, as if he was angry at her. Ramiro was never angry with her. “—trying.”

She could do nothing but stare at him.

“You’re always crying on me because I want you to. I hate your tears, but I hate them more when you have them alone. I’m the one seeking you out. Everything that you are, I want for myself. I crave it.”

Hope fluttered inside, so warm she was scared of it. “Does that mean…?”

His hands gentled on her. Gentleness wasn’t what she was hoping for at all, and the hope fled.

“It means you’re the reason I’m not a cold asshole,” Ramiro said. “Taking care of you saved me. I don’t think you realize how much.”

She shook her head. “You were already wonderful when we met.”

“Only you would think that. I was an asshole. Just ask Diego. He knew me back then.”

Diego had known Ramiro longer than her. She’d always been a little jealous of that.

Ramiro stroked her cheek again, making her want to press into his touch. She could lean forward and kiss him like she’d done so long ago.

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