Page 112 of Sweet Escape
I open my mouth to speak, hesitating, but as I stare into his eyes, I know one thing to be true, beyond all reason. “I think—I think I love you.”
His hand drops, and he pinches his eyes shut. “Olivia… I…”
“No. Don’t say anything. I know you can’t. It’s okay. I just… needed you to know. I think I’ve loved you for a while. I think I’d love you even if we weren’t having a baby together. That’s enough for me. I don’t need to hear it back.”
He repositions us until I’m flush against his side and buries his face in my hair, inhaling deeply. “I can’t give you what you need.” It’s a quiet confession, one that should break me, but it doesn’t. I know it’s coming from a place of fear. I don’t speak, waiting for him to continue.
“I can’t watch you suffer, Liv. You’ve made yourself essential to me, somehow—more integral than the air I breathe. The possibility of losing you… it's the worst fate imaginable. Being left alone to carry on in a world where you don’t exist—I can’t do it. I know it’s not rational…”
I shift up, sliding a palm over his beard to turn his face ever so slightly. “I’m not asking you to love me back. I’m begging you to let yourselfbeloved.”
The words come unbidden, and I'm shocked to find I believe them. I don’t need the words, I never have. Wilder has shown me in a million ways just how important I am to him, and that’s more than enough. It’s everything.
“I already know what it’s like when someone says they love you and they don’t mean it,” I say. “I don’t need or want that. I want what we have now. I want the care that you’ve shown me since the moment I stood before you on that plane with mascara all over my face. I want the smiles that greet me in the morning, even if they come with decaf coffee. I want the version of me that only comes out with you by my side. I want whatever you’re willing to give, guarded heart and all. Can you do that?”
He huffs out a breath through his nose, shaking his head almost imperceptibly. “I don’t deserve you.” His eyes turn glassy as he palms my cheek—my big, broken cowboy. “Someday, when that’s not enough for you anymore, I need you to tell me. I need you to be honest. I don’t want to be the reason you’re in pain. Not ever. Promise me.”
I won’t. There won’t ever be a time when Wilder isn’t enough for me, when this life and our kids aren’t enough for me.
The devastating truth is, I’ve fallen for a man who will never return my feelings, and isn’t that just like me? Another tragedy of my own making because, whether I’m ready to admit it to myself or not, nobody willevercompare to Wilder Hayes.
So, I lie.
“I promise.”
Chapter 31
Head or Heart
?The View Between Villages - Noah Kahan
Wilder
I stridethrough the big house with single-minded focus, and it doesn't take long to find Mama in her home office. Her glasses are perched on the end of her nose as she peers at the computer screen like it personally offended her.
Behind her large oak desk are floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lined with hundreds of books—mostly textbooks with the odd romance novel, and a dedicated shelf at the bottom for Emmy Lou’s collection of fairy tales.
Natural light floods the space from the massive windows on the left side of the room, while the right wall is covered in family photos from before I was even born, all the way up until Emmy’s third birthday. I pause in front of the photo of me, Emmy, and Liv behind her cowboy-themed birthday cake. It’s not one I’ve seen before. Liv and I are looking at each other over Emmy’s head as my little girl positively beams at the camera.We look like a family.
When the door closes behind me, Mama’s head snaps up. Whatever she sees in my face, her gaze softens, and a gentle gesture invites me to the small, sunlit seating area near the windows.
“Head or heart?” she asks.
In other words, ‘Do you need a mom or a therapist?’ It’s something she’s said to us for as long as I can remember. It’s always shaped the way she approaches our problems.Head or heart.
“Maybe a little bit of both.”
She nods. “I can do that.”
I swallow hard, mentally preparing myself for the conversation I’ve been putting off for far too long. Liv’s quiet confession has been playing on a loop in my mind for days, tempting me, taunting me.
As if sensing where my thoughts have strayed, Mama speaks first.
“You love her,” she says matter-of-factly. “You love her, Wilder. I know that’s hard for you to come to terms with, given the implications, but you do. You love her fiercely, my boy, there’s really no getting around it.”
I don’t respond. What can I say to that?
“Trouble is, we all love her. So, you’re going to have to get on board with what’s happening before she walks away.”
