Page 21 of Bidding on a Second Chance
“It did. If I were a hiker stuck under a boulder, I think I could cut off my arm to free myself, because that’s what ending things with you felt like.”
He grunted an angry laugh. “I was a boulder holding you back?”
Her cheeks smarted, and she still couldn’t get enough air. “One of the worst troubles I can imagine is losing the man I love. But even worse, what if something happened to our kids? Or to us, after they were born, leaving them orphans?”
All the anger drained from his expression, replaced by shock. “Our kids?”
Oh. The last they’d discussed the possibility of marriage and children, she’d shut down any mention of having kids.
“I thought you didn’t want children,” he pressed.
“It’s complicated.”
He assessed her. “I didn’t realize that at the time. I thought you just didn’t feel called in that direction. I proposed to you anyway. I was willing to sacrifice that. For you.”
She gripped the handlebars of her scooter for all she was worth. “Sort of, but I knew you still wanted them. It was too much for you to give up.” Her voice was small and sad. “I couldn’t let you.”
“So you broke up with me, even though you wanted the same things as me, because you were afraid something bad might happen to kids that didn’t even exist yet.” Even as he put into words exactly what she’d done, his skeptical tone suggested he still didn’t believe what he’d heard.
“The Bible says we’ll have trouble in this world. Case in point.” She motioned at her boot. “I’m a magnet for trouble. And with your job, you’re likely to be one too. The only way to keep you from surrendering such an important dreamandto prevent my worst nightmare of losing more people I love was to end it.”
The sternness returned. “You don’t know how our lives together might’ve gone, but you guaranteed a sad ending by breaking it off. We might experience trouble, but God is good. Life isn’t all doom and gloom unless that’s what you make it.”
The statement stole the air right out of her lungs, and her cheeks flashed hot. She’d spent the last two years believing their breakup had been for the best. What if it hadn’t been?
No. Not possible.
“I’m sorry our breakup hurt, but there are worse things.”
“Than cheating both of us out of years of happiness because of some shaky ‘what if’? Keep telling yourself that.”
This was getting nowhere. She shouldn’t have pushed. Then again, he might’ve confronted her anyway.
“Let me guess. This doesn’t leave you feeling much closure.”
He exhaled through his nose, lips curved in on a tight frown.
She’d wanted space between them and she’d gotten it. No going back. “For what it’s worth—and I know it’s not worth a lot—I’m sorry.”
His jaw flexed. “Thanks.”
She waited through a few breaths, wondering if she should try again to persuade him to see things her way. But what good would that do? If he finally agreed love came with too much risk, they’d still be forced to go their separate ways. “There’s a bedframe for sale by Junction Springs. Since I can’t drive …”
Graham checked his watch and nodded. “Sure. I can make it if I leave now.”
She texted him the address and looked up as he dusted his hands over his clothes, sending more particles into the air. He read her message, then pulled on his jacket and felt for his keys. As he produced them from his pocket, Piper’s window of opportunity narrowed. He’d leave, still angry.
“For the record, I realize you don’t agree with my reasoning, but I hope you can at least understand the heart behind it. Maybe, even though we didn’t work out, you can forgive me.”
“Sure, Piper.” He clenched his jaw.
“If what your mom said also still bothers you, maybe you still need to forgive her too.”
“She told me in no uncertain terms to stop reaching out.”
“You don’t have to talk to her to forgive her.”
The tendons in his jaw worked again. “True.” Without elaborating, he exited, the chip on his shoulder no smaller than when she’d first come back here.
