Page 96 of Deal Breaker
Ford: We need to talk first about how we do this.11 a.m. at the Cedar Bluff Trail lookout tomorrow.
THIRTY-FIVE
Ford
Cedar Bluff comes into view. Our old spot, the one with the best view of the coastline below. From up here, the ocean looks endless. Today it’s calm and glassy, a vast pool of blue that disappears into the horizon.
She’s already here, sitting on a flat rock, knees pulled up to her chest. Her long hair is tied back in a ponytail, her face is bare, and she’s still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. A long time ago, she told me this place made her feel like she could breathe. Now she looks like she is suffocating.
The sight of her twists something inside me and a familiar tension threads into my shoulders. I hate that part of me still aches for her while another part is still filled with anger and betrayal.
She must hear me as I approach, because she suddenly turns and looks over her shoulder. “Hi,” she says, her voice sounding small and hesitant.
I don’t answer right away. Instead, I drop onto the rock beside her, keeping a safe distance. We sit like this insilence, the sun warming our backs, the air clean and still. Seagulls float far below, their cries faint against the breeze.
“How’s your mom?” I ask eventually, realizing one of us needs to break the silence if we’re going to get anywhere.
Her arms tighten a little around her legs. “She’s going to be okay, thanks. It’s manageable…just going to take time.”
I nod, relieved. I stare at her profile, her gaze still locked on the ocean, and the words slip out before I can stop them. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Her head turns. Our eyes lock. “I’m so sorry, Ford.” She swallows hard. “I did what I thought was right at the time.”
“What does that even mean?”
“You’re mad, I know, and I don’t blame you. I should have told you?—”
“But you didn’t,” I interrupt, voice raised. “Tell me the real reason, Lan. Tell me why you didn’t tell me you were pregnant with our child. Tell me why you just disappeared.”
She stands suddenly, the tension between us breaking wide open as she puts space between our bodies. I stand too. “I left because I knew what would happen. You would’ve given everything up for me. For us. You would’ve thrown away everything you were building—Cove, the life you dreamed of. I knew how important that was to you, to build something that was more than what you came from. I didn’t want to get in the way of all of that.”
“It wasn’t your decision to make,” I argue.
“Maybe you’re right, but I knew that you didn’t want kids. You didn’t want a family.”
My eyes widen. “I didn’t want kids?—?”
“It’s the truth,” she says, her voice louder now, the tears filling her eyes even as she tries to fight them back. “You didn’t want kids. You made it clear.”
I stare at her, confused. My brain is a storm, trying torewind the years. “What the hell are you talking about, Landyn?”
She lets out a broken sigh. “You had all these plans. The 5-year plan. The 10-year vision. You were so laser-focused on it, and I was barely even part of it anymore, let alone a baby. I asked you about kids. I told you that I wanted to be a mom one day, that it was important to me. You said maybe, one day, but that you weren’t really sure you even wanted to be a dad. And I understood, even if it broke my heart a little. I know you had a hard time growing up, that your dad wasn’t good to you. I know how much that impacted you.”
I feel like the air’s been punched out of me. She turns back toward the water, wiping at her face with the sleeve of her hoodie.
“You thought I wouldn’t have wanted her?” My voice is hoarse. “That I would’ve walked away?”
“No. I thought you would’ve stayed,” she says without looking at me. “And that it would’ve killed you inside to give up the life you were building. You would’ve done it out of obligation. Not love.”
“I wouldn’t have felt trapped, if that’s what you’re trying to insinuate,” I say fiercely, my voice rough with emotion. “I would’ve been a dad to our little girl, Landyn. I would’ve stepped up. I would’ve shifted my whole goddamn life plan if that’s what it meant to be with you. To raise our daughter together.”
Her breath hitches, but she doesn’t look away this time. “And that’s exactly what I was afraid of.”
I stare at her. “What does that mean?”
She’s crying again now, tears slipping quietly down her cheeks. “You would’ve dropped everything, Ford. You would’ve walked away from Cove, from all the things youwere building for you and your brothers. I knew that meanteverythingto you. Don’t you see? I couldn’t let that happen.”
I shake my head, trying to catch up with the storm of her logic. “You think I would’ve regretted choosing you? Choosing her?”
