Page 81 of By the Letter

“Yes. You never mention it.”

“I’ve grown accustomed to living with constant, low-level pain. If I didn’t have to move, I wouldn’t feel it, but—”

“Moving is sort of necessary.”

“Yeah,” he breathed, his palm gliding over my belly. “I had surgery and rehab. It is what it is now. I try not to do anything to exacerbate it, but living with pain is one of the downsides to being a pro athlete in a high-impact sport. I’d known that going in.”

“Why rugby?”

He chuckled. “Why not?”

“Well, football is king in the US. I’m surprised you and Ben didn’t get recruited to play in school.”

“Oh, coaches tried. Ben played a few seasons. Not me, though. I had my eye on the prize, and that was to go pro in rugby.” He dipped his face into my hair, inhaling. “You might’ve noticed this about me, but I’m single-minded in my goals. When I start something, I have no choice but to become the best I can at it. I chose rugby. Therefore, I devoted every waking minute to it.”

“And when you lost it…?”

“I was torn up for a while. That letter you sent me? It helped. Everyone was telling me my life wasn’t over, but that letter…you gave me the room to grieve. Every direction, people were saying,‘chin up,’ ‘it could be worse,’ but you told me to feel it in full, and I did that. I dealt with the premature end of my goals, and once I’d accepted it, I was able to move on. I miss the game, but it doesn’t hurt to watch Ben play. I can be proud of him without feeling jealous. And I’ve devoted myself to other pursuits.”

“Like GoldMed.”

He hummed again, and the vibration that ran through me was almost as soothing as Mary’s purrs. “Yes. Sometimes my single-mindedness makes me myopic—a fact I’m coming to terms with. Once again, you’ve turned my eye inward, forcing me to examine my thinking and come up with a solution to change it.” His lips pressed against my crown. “I don’t think we’ll be able to save GoldMed, Shira.”

A chill ran through me, not from the inevitable fate of Frank’s company but due to the palpable remorse in Roman’s admission.

“Some things aren’t meant to last forever,” I whispered.

“No, times change. The world keeps moving. Nate and I are working on it, but I suspect the wisest option is to sell off the remaining assets. We’ll have to make a decision soon.”

I twisted my neck so I could look up at him. “I won’t be angry if you decide that’s the best course, Roman. Please don’t worry about me when choosing how to move forward. I know you wanted it to work and did all you could. If this is the end, that’s okay.”

Our son decided to join the conversation, landing several kicks and jabs. Roman sucked in a breath, stilling. I found myself grinning wide as the baby used my belly as his own personal jungle gym, rolling and stretching.

“That’s incredible,” Roman whispered in awe.

“Isn’t it? He’s already amazing.”

His forehead rested on the back of my head, and he stayed like that for a long time, feeling the movement inside my stomach.

“Thank you for allowing me to be close to you like this, to share this with you,” he murmured. “Means the world to me not to miss any of it.”

“You don’t have to thank me.”

“Means the world, Shira,” he repeated, his arms holding me snugly against him.

I was setting myself up to fall. It would hurt like hell when I landed, but my silly brain, whose survival instincts swung back and forth between abject panic and grave acceptance, said,“Meh…if I crash, I crash.”So, I snuggled closer to Roman, deciding to soak up every fleeting second I had in his arms.

Chapter Twenty-eight

Roman

Ben lived by themottoIdle hands are the devil’s playground. He didn’t do well when he wasn’t busy, but he’d been forced to take a month off from training and playing rugby. We were two weeks into his forced sabbatical, and he had become everyone’s problem.

I had seen my twin more in the last two weeks than I had all year. That I couldn’t complain about. It was his running commentary on the most mundane activities that was driving me up the wall. He’d gone on daily strolls through my new neighborhood, exploring all the cafés and art galleries, and offered me a full, written report when I returned from work. He’d also cleaned my house from top to bottom and weededmy, Shira's, and Bea’s lawns, documenting all of it through an alarming number of texts he sent throughout the day.

Today, I’d marked a couple hours out of my schedule to have lunch with him and Adrian. I was hoping Ade would be convinced to entertain Benny for a while. If he didn’t, I suspected I’d go home to all my walls repainted and Ben climbing them.

The three of us were seated at a secluded table in our favorite pub, each nursing a pint. I had a burger in front of me, Ade had a steak salad, and Ben was plowing through a massive plate of fish and chips.

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