Page 68 of Love You Always

But not quite.

“Archer…” She gives me the barest of smiles. Like it’s hard. “I don’t want to be one more person in your life who needs you to be someone you don’t want to be.”

Her words break something deep inside me because she sees me more than anyone ever has.

Right now, it feels too tender and too painful for me to understand the full significance, but I do know I’ll never be the same from this point forward. I stare down into a deep abyss of the truth she’s already accepted—that this is the end of us. It causes the fight to leave my system. I feel a dull ache in my heart and a searing pain behind my eyes as I hold back the sting of tears I can’t let her see.

There’s no way for her to understand how deeply it hurts that I can’t be what she needs. So I stand here, stuck. “I love you. So much.” I want that to be enough.

Ella takes a step back and puts her hand up as though she’s blocking anything else I have to say. I feel the distance between us like a chasm neither of us can bridge. “I love you too, but we have no future. I have a baby to think about and I need to put that child’s needs before my own. Even if it breaks my heart. So maybe it’s time…to walk away.”

My animal brain can’t make sense of what she’s saying. Once again, I want to kick myself for being so bad at expressing my feelings because I’m not getting this right and I know it’s going to cost me.

“I don’t want that.”

“Archer, you know it’s the right thing to do.”

“The right thing?!” Of course it is, but I’m hurting too much to accept it. I don’t mean to raise my voice, but my emotions are ruling me the same as when I’m on the ice. I’ve never been good at controlling my anger, and right now I don’t have the benefit ofa puck I can smack with everything I’ve got. “There’s nothing right about saying goodbye to you.”

I don’t know what to do with my sadness and frustration, so I do what comes naturally—I act like a dick.

“I’m not going to fight you, if that’s what you’re hoping for. I’m not going to beg you to stay.” I want to beg. I want to push back against the idea of her leaving with every ounce of strength I have. Or at least, that’s what my heart wants. My brain has other ideas. It digs in, stubborn as always.

She turns her back and for a moment I think she’s going to walk away without saying more. I’d deserve it. I know I’m being a dick, but I don’t know how to sugarcoat my feelings, never have. When she turns to face me, I see the hurt—it’s in the way her shoulders slump. The beautiful features of her face sag in sadness. That’s when I know I’ve gone too far.

“This. This is why I need to go.”

The sadness is etched in her features and I’m itching to wipe the lines away with the pads of my thumbs, like if I can smooth out her skin, I can erase the pain I’m causing. But I say nothing. I do…nothing.

“Okay,” she says softly.

“You want what you want, and you should have it,” I tell her, not seeing a path forward.

“Right…” She cocks her head to the side as though there’s more to my declaration than I’m saying.

“We’ve talked about this. I’m not having kids.”

“You don’t have to keep saying it. I get that you don’t want to have kids with me,” she says, voice hoarse. She nods and takes a step away from me.

My hands come to my face to try to block the anguish that wants to pummel me for my shortcomings. But it’s useless.

“I don’t want to have kids with anyone.” I hate that it’s true and I hate myself for not doing a damn thing to make it untrue. I feel myself pull away, almost as though I’m hovering above thetwo of us and watching the interaction unfold. Like I’m not a part of it. Like I have no ability to change trajectory.

I hate myself for that weakness. I hate my father for dooming me to be like him. Then I hate myself again for not having the spine to change those very things about myself that are keeping me locked in a cycle of unhappiness. Especially when I have the chance for something different, and I’m about to let her walk away.

“I’ll mail the clothes and stuff you left at my house, so you don’t have to come back there. Just easier that way. For both of us,” I say, feeling slightly better about being pragmatic.

Ella shrugs. “If that’s what you want.”

“It is.”

It’s not.

Not at all.

But if I’m going to give Ella the chance at her dreams, I need to get out of the way. And maybe I want that more than I want my own happiness. It sure seems that way.

As she turns to leave, I let out the breath I’ve been holding, releasing the last tether that’s been attaching me to hope. It breaks with a snap I feel deep in my chest—and what’s left of my heart crumbles with it.

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