Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 75517 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75517 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
My voice cracks as I shake my head. “No, not at all. I mean, it’s obvious that this relationship is on the track for that.”
He stops me, and he pulls at my wrist so that my body turns to face his. “I never thought it would, but you’re right. I want a future with you when I never thought that would happen. I thought for the longest time I was broken, and I was, because you’ve fixed me, Clara.”
I shake my head as the tears flow, running down the sides of my face. “You weren’t broken, Riggs. Maybe a bit bent, but never broken.”
He steps closer, and he brings one hand beneath my chin to guide my face up. Our eyes meet, and I almost sob at the pure love in his gaze. He wipes my tears away. “My love, what’s wrong?”
I chew on my bottom lip as I search his gaze. I don’t know why I ask him, and I hate myself for it, but still, the words leave my lips. “Do you want kids?”
He seems taken aback by my question as he continues to catch my tears with his thumbs. “I don’t know. I didn’t because, when I lost my parents so young, I never wanted to put my children through a loss like that. But things are different now.” This time, a sob bursts out of me, and his face instantly changes. Fear and worry fill his features before he wraps me up in his arms. “Clara, love, what’s wrong?”
I shake my head. “You aren’t the broken one, Riggs. I am.”
He cups my face, continuing to wipe my tears as he leans in, dusting his lips against mine. The dogs have sat at our feet and are whimpering as I cry. Riggs’s voice is strained as he says, “My love, you’re not making sense—”
Not able to handle it, I cry out, “I can’t have kids.”
CHAPTER 27
Riggs
I thought I hated losing. That kick in the chest kind of feeling when I know we didn’t win really fucks with me.
But nothing compares to how much I despise seeing the girl I love more than anything in this life cry.
Clara’s face is flushed, big tears falling from her sweet, wide eyes. Eyes that are bloodshot as her little fairylike nose runs with snot. Her lips are pursed as she tries to hold in the sobs, but it doesn’t work.
She’s a mess.
A stunning mess.
My mess.
And my heart aches at her pain. I know I said I didn’t want people knowing about us yet, but that doesn’t stop me from gathering her in my arms and cupping her face in my hands.
“Shh,” I coo, wiping away her streaming tears. “Baby girl, calm down.”
A sob explodes from her small frame, shaking her poor body. The boys whine as Darcy howls for his mom. “Did I get downgraded? I thought I was your love,” she says on a shaky breath, and my heart breaks at how tragically beautiful she is.
“No, no, no,” I murmur, brushing my thumb along her trembling lip. “You’re my everything, my love. Even upgraded, you get called past nicknames.”
She nods slowly, her lips quivering. “O-okay. I didn’t know the rules to all these pet names.”
I hold back my smile as I hug her tightly, nuzzling my nose in her neck. She falls apart in my arms as I hold her tightly, like I’m trying to put her back together. “I wanted to tell you before, but I’ve never told anyone I’ve been with. Not that I’m ashamed. Or so I thought, because I guess I am. I don’t know. I think that’s why I’m attracted to older guys, because surely they don’t want kids. But I’m sorry. I should have told you from the start because you would be a perfect dad, and I can’t give you children.”
My eyes drift shut as emotion hits me. “Shh, Clara, my love. Breathe, baby.” She takes in a deep, shaky breath, her body trembling against mine. I hear her teeth chatter, and I pull back to look down at her. I wipe her nose with my thumb, wiping it on my slacks, as I brush more of her tears away. She just stares at me, blinking more tears down her face, and I give her a small smile. “You have to breathe, baby, because you’re the reason I’m finally breathing again.”
“Riggs,” she sobs, and I kiss her between her brows.
“Breathe,” I practically beg.
“You should be a dad,” she cries, and I shrug. Her words hit me like a bucket of pucks and I’m a goalie with no pads in sight. As much as I wanted to be a dad when my dad was alive, that feeling died with him. I’ve never wanted to love a child, only to leave them at any moment the way my father left me. I know some think that the joys of raising children are worth the pain the child will experience, but that’s not how I feel about it. I don’t want my child to miss me or cry for me when I die. I don’t want them broken like I was when my parents were put in the ground.