Nora’s hands grasp a shirt, and she stares at it like it’s a damn crystal ball, her red locks falling over her shoulder as she stills.
“I do. Did. I mean…I want to be a mother someday, I just thought maybe I’d found the right person, but…”
Her fingers grace over the collar. She smoothes it out, her shoulders sinking.
“Brett told me he wanted to use condoms so I wouldn’t get pregnant before we moved in together. Then when I moved in, he didn’t want me to get pregnant before we got engaged.”
“So you thought he was going to propose to you…”
She sniffles, and I realize she’s crying.
“Yeah.” She folds the shirt and tosses it in the luggage.
“You want to know the worst part?” she whispers. I fold a shirt as she folds a dress and sets it aside. Our hands work fast as a team, and the suitcase starts to fill.
“What?” I ask, morbidly curious. I shouldn’t be hearing any of this, really, but also if Nora wants to tell me, I feel this deep-seated desire to listen. To be more than just the guy you call for a good time.
I want to be the guy she can rely on. The one who swoops in and saves the day for once. I want to be Nora’shero.
“I thought it just meant he loved me. I believed him. And then I found him with that other woman…fucking her without a condom.”
She moves to turn away, and I see the tears stream down her face. Memories of the other night push forth, and the words resonate. Hearing it drunk is one thing, but sober?
“That fucking bastard,” I hiss, throwing the shirt into the suitcase. “Nora, I am so fucking sorry, baby.” I move toward her. She moves back only a bit, her gaze turning to mine.
“And then I sent him that picture…” She lets out a heavy sigh. “And he thought I was apologizing.” She shakes her head. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”
I grab her by the waist, bringing her toward me. “He doesn’t deserve it,” I say, and the words are solid. Clear as a bell. “Any of it.” I hold her gaze with mine.
“Russ…” she breathes. Myname.Not my nickname that everyone calls me, butmy name.I like how it sounds on her tongue way too much.
“He doesn’t deserve you or your baby,” I tell her.
She shakes her head, and I grab her by the throat, forcing her to look at me. Her eyes glisten as she sucks in a breath. She falls back against the edge of the bed from the motion, her legs parting just the slightest so I fall between them.
My cock strains in my pants, and I know I’m dancing on glass here. With her. This situation. The ache in my heart and my dick.
Because how dare he treat her likethis.
He should be worshipping the ground she walks on, not having his cake and eating it too. Because I know that’s exactly what Brett thought he was going to do.
Maybe he would have proposed. Gone through with it and married her even, but he’d never give her the lifeshewanted. He’d only be pretending, while he traveled and fucked off behind her back, dumping his cum into everyone but the woman who would have loved him and provided him such a perfect, beautiful life.
The kind of life my dad offered him and his mother, but which he never took.
“And you think you know what I deserve?” she says, her voice a whisper. The sunlight is dimming outside, casting everything in the room, including us, in an amber glow.
Her hands on my hips move slightly up over my abdomen. She doesn’t push me away, though she should.
I’m so out of my element here. This is territory I’ve never waded into. Because this feeling, deep inside me, this pain in my chest…it’s more than desire or attraction.
It’s love.
I know that, even though it makes no sense. But I can’t deny the way I feel.
I can’t deny her.
“Yes,” I say, my voice dark and low. I close my eyes as I bring my forehead to hers, sucking in a breath. My cock twitches in my jeans as she pulls my body against her.