Page 90 of Her Ex's Father
“This is what Derrick was looking for, isn’t it?” I ask, and her eyes widen in surprise. I nod, acknowledging her silent question. “Hugh told me; that he’d been sneaking around. The resort, the house, too. And the day he confronted you… I knew he must have thought you did something that I would be upset about.”
Her lips part, but no words come out as tears tremble at the edges of her eyes.
“I don’t need to know everything,” I say firmly. My words come slower now, conviction sharpening them. “I don’t care about what you did before me, Madeline. I don’t even need you to love me the way I—” I stop, pulse hammering, but push on. “The way I feel for you. I just need you with me. Back in Colorado. So, we can build something that’s ours. If that’s what you want. too.”
Her breath hitches.
She looks away, out at the sprawling rooftops, the skyline jagged against the gray sky. Her hand trembles as she lifts it—presses it gently, protectively, over her stomach.
The sight almost undoes me. The ring I bought her all those months ago is still on her finger, and I know in my heart, despite her silence, that there’s no way Madeline Clarke doesn’t love me back just as hard as I loveher.
But a part of me still longs to hear her say it.
My throat burns. My chest aches. Relief and longing crash together until I can hardly stand upright.
I want to fall to my knees. I want to press my palm over hers and feel our child beneath it. I want to tell her I’ll wait as long as it takes, that I’ll never stop fighting for her.
Instead, I force myself still, give her the space she says she needs, and pray that this small gesture—her hand on our child—means she hasn’t given up on us.
Chapter 33
Maddie
The city below us is alive with noise, but all I can hear is the pounding of my own heart. Ben’s words still echo in the air between us, heavy and impossible and terrifyingly sweet.
I don’t need you to love me the way I feel for you.
The way he said it—quiet, steady, stripped of all his usual armor—unravels me. My lungs tighten, my pulse races.
He’s in love with me.
He’s in love with me, and he’s not even hiding it anymore.
I grip the railing, my knuckles whitening against the cold metal. The wind stings my cheeks, but it’s nothing compared to the burn inside me. A small part of me in the very back of my mind misses Colorado—misses it even more than I missed the sprawling acreage of Montana when I first went to live with Ben.
If he means what he says—if he’s truly willing to accept me, baby and all—then I can’t keep hiding. I can’t build whatever this is on silence and secrets. Not when the truth is pressing at my ribs like it wants out, and not when I’ve expected the same—the truth—fromhim.
I turn to face him. His eyes—God, those eyes—search mine with a kind of restrained desperation, like he’s bracing himself for a blow.
“Ben,” I whisper, my throat thick. “If we’re going to do this, if you’re serious about what you just said… then I do need to tell you. Otherwise, I’ll carry this around forever, waiting for someone—Derrick, one of your friends—to tell you, and wondering if you’ll hate me for it.”
Benedict doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t interrupt. He just nods once, hands loose at his sides, waiting.
“It’s about Jack,” I say. My stomach twists as the words scrape out. “There’s… history there. Not the way you think,” I add quickly, before the hurt can sharpen in his eyes. “It was never romantic. Not like that.”
The wind picks up, tugging my hair into my mouth. I swipe it back, pressing forward before I lose my nerve.
“We grew up together. He was my best friend, more like a brother. And when his mom got sick, he was desperate to be stationed close enough to help her. There was a loophole if he was married.”
Ben’s eyes flicker, just barely, but I push through it.
“So, we did it. We went to a courthouse one afternoon, signed papers, and that was it. We were husband and wife on paper, so he could get his posting. No rings, no vows, no wedding night.” My chest tightens, heat flooding my cheeks as I remember my wedding night with Ben—what shouldn’t have happened, and what I wanted. And savored. Howrightit felt.
A seed of worry, the one I’ve been carrying around for months now, blooms in my chest. Despite everything he said only moments ago, I can’t help but wonder—what if heisn’tokay with this?
“We divorced a few years later, after his mom passed. It’s been over for a long time. Only Stella ever knew. And now you.”
Silence swells between us, broken only by the hum of traffic far below.
