Page 132 of Unexpected Forever
But it isn’t safe for me.
He blows out a breath and lowers his head back to mine. Our mouths are inches apart and I want so badly to roll up on my toes and kiss him.
But I won’t, even if every fiber of my being is screaming for me not to leave him. To somehow try to fix him.
We stand like that for several seconds before he kisses my forehead.
And then he’s gone. The front door opens and closes, and soon I hear him drive away.
I don’t know how long I stand there, sobbing, feeling as though someone just yanked out my heart and stomped all over it.
I take a deep breath and zip up the suitcase, then throw my toiletries in a bag. On my way out, the door to the nursery catches my eye.
I walk in, and the waterworks start all over again when I see the crib.
The room came out better than I’d hoped for with the cream-colored walls and soft gray baby furniture.
I sit down in the rocking recliner in the corner, letting my eyes wander over the room I’ll never get to use.
Where we tried to put the crib together, picked paint colors, and arranged the changing table.
Tiny clothes I’ve already ordered hang in the closet on tiny hangers. Empty hangers wait to hold more clothes I never got around to hanging.
The baby isn’t even here yet and the room is full of memories.
My heart hurts at all the things I’ve foolishly planned. For getting caught up in it all. For letting my guard down and thinking he’d be the one man that wouldn’t leave me.
But like all the times before, I love a man that can’t stay.
Nate has his own wounds, and I can’t get past them to make him love me back.
I let my head fall back and I rock, my hands cradling my belly, knowing this is the only time I’ll ever get to rock my baby in the beautiful chair I picked out.
“It’s just you and me now, Nugget. And you know what? We’re going to be okay. You have aunts and uncles who love you already. We’re going to be just fine, you and me.”
After a few minutes, I haul myself up out of the chair, wincing at the lower back pain.
I want to be gone before Nate gets back. I close the door to the nursery and sniff back more tears.
I quickly grab my suitcase and handbag, not stopping to look at the house that had started to feel like a home to me.
And when I pull out of the driveway, vision blurry with yet more tears, I don’t look back.
It’s my past. All I care about now is my future.
A future without Nate Gentry.
And without my heart.
TWENTY-SEVEN
nate
Why the fuckis it so bright?
My eyes open slowly. Every blink brings a drum line with it carrying big-ass spotlights for some reason.
It takes me a minute to realize the spotlight is the sun streaming through the sliders. It’s another minute before I realize I’m in my house in Florida.
