Page 91 of When We Break

“What do you mean?”

“She wanted me to tell her to quit her job. To do whatever she wanted. Buy whatever she wanted. And I told her that if she quit her job, we’d have to live at the farm.”

“And she didn’t like that.”

“No.” He shakes his head and shrugs. “Not long after, I walked into our place, after a long day at the ranch, and found her in bed with some tourist she’d picked up at the bar.”

My eyes go wide as I stare up at him. How could anyone do something like that toBeckett?

“Never spoke to her again,” he continues. “And it was probably telling that it didn’t really break my heart. It pissed me off, don’t get me wrong, but it didn’t hurt me. I knew we weren’t going to work out. We wanted very different things, so shoving my things in a bag and leaving that night felt really good.”

I frame his face in my hands and pull him to me so I can kiss him.

“Worked out well for this Irish girl.”

He laughs against my lips. “I’d say it worked out fucking fantastic. How about you? Any live-ins?”

“No. Do you have any children I should know about?”

Beckett’s eyebrows climb in surprise. “Not that I’m aware of.”

“Hey, you never know. A girl has to ask.”

“Any kids for you?”

I laugh at that and shake my head. “No. I went years without having a period at all. Sorry, that might be TMI.”

“No, it’s not. Why?”

“Because when a woman’s underweight and under immense stress, her body is in survival mode, and periods become irregular or go away altogether. It’s common in athletes, dancers in particular. Gymnasts, too. I had intense diet restrictions, Beckett. I don’t think I can adequately explain how strict my diet was, and I put my body through a lot. So it wouldn’t have been possible for me to get pregnant for a long time. But I was so busy with dance that sex wasn’t really something I worried about.”

“Let’s take this chat into the living room, and we can get Riley,” he suggests, and I nod and hop off the vanity, feeling so much better.

“Do you want to change? Your family is going to end up in here soon.”

“Yes, that would be better.”

He nods and finds me some leggings and one of his shirts.

“Can I have the shirt you wore on the plane earlier?” I ask. He looks surprised, so I bite my lower lip. “It’ll smell more like you.”

His eyes soften as he reaches up to brush his thumb over the apple of my cheek before he goes back into the closet and returns with the blue button-up from the plane. I button it up, then slip on my leggings and follow Beck into the living area of the suite just as there’s a knock on the door.

“Who is it?” Beckett asks.

“Sanders, Ms. Gallagher’s security. I have Riley.”

“Well, that was good timing,” Beck says as he opens the door. Riley comes bounding in, his tongue hanging out of his mouth happily, and when he sees me, he races to me.

“Hey, beautiful boy.” I kiss his head and feel so much relief having him by my side. “Were you good for Sally? I missed you.”

As if he can sense that I’m not okay, he pushes his head into my stomach, trying to soothe me.

“It’s okay. We’re okay.”

I sit on the sofa, listening to Beckett’s voice. The front door closes, and then he’s talking to someone else. Probably room service.

Even though I’m still in shock that The Arsehole found me—how did he know that I’d be at the fundraiser?—having Beckett here, determined to soothe and care for me, has made it all more surreal than terrifying. I have no doubt that Miller will figure this out, and Connor won’t rest until all the details are gathered. And knowing Beckett loves me? Nothing has ever felt so wonderful. So despite the growing anger from seeinghim, and especially now that I have Riley with me, I know I’ll be okay.

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