She sat sobbing in her car until her fingertips got cold, then she started the engine again. When she drove past his place, his car was gone. Steeling herself, she headed for the highway, and drove north, with no destination in mind. She just needed to not be in Pine Harbour.
It was dark by the time she got back to her apartment. She let herself in and flopped on the couch.
His knock came an hour later. She recognized his footsteps on the stairs, the heavy weight of them. He knocked twice, then waited. And then he knocked again. Would people notice if he stood out there for too long?
Go away.
At the third knock, she got up and walked to the door.
“I know you’re there,” he said. “Come on, Kerry.”
She opened the door, and he filled the frame, his head hanging a bit. In his hand was one of her sweatshirts. “You left this at my place.”
She stared at the hoodie in his hands. It was an excuse, because he needed one. Because she’d broken his heart and he needed more of an answer as to why, but he couldn’t just straight up ask her for it.
And so he’d brought her something.
Hell, he could have hung on to it. That’s what she would have done. Selfishly kept the thing that smelled like him.
She held out her hand. “Thanks.”
He didn’t let go of the hoodie. “Can we talk?”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” she said dully. “Please don’t make this harder than it has to be.”
“I don’t understand.” There was that crack in his voice again.
“I’m sorry.” Tears were flowing freely now. Fork. And it was cold outside.
“I’m not mad at you, Kerry. Please let me come in, just so I can understand. Is that okay?”
Sobbing, she stepped back, and he moved into the apartment, gently closing the door behind him.
“Is this because I had a vasectomy?”
She shook her head no, then nodded it yes. “It’s complicated. I don’t—I’m not mad at you, either. I just…”
Everything she knew she needed to say to him clogged in her throat. He handed her a tissue, and she dried her eyes. But she couldn’t look up at him. She stared at his boots instead.You’re a wonderful man. You are a wonderful father. I would love to make babies with someone like you—with you, in fact, but you don’t want that. You really, really don’t want that. You made a permanent decision to make sure that never happened to you again, and I had no idea.
And then the worst thought of all.Maybe we weren’t as important to each other as I thought we were.
“This is all on me. You were clear about the bounds, and I knew what I was getting into.” She sounded robotic, but that was better than weepy. “At some point, we would have to go our separate ways. That’s all. It’s better for it to happen now.”
“It doesn’t feel better.” He leaned back against the wall, bending his knee, and more of him came into her line of sight. She could almost see his face, and oh God, she didn’t want to have to look at him. But she couldn’tnot, either, so she raised her head.
What a mistake that was.
The tortured, twisted look of sadness he gave her was almost enough to make her drop to her knees and beg his forgiveness. She would get over wanting babies.
Except she wouldn’t. She could put it off for a while, but not forever, and then she would resent him.
He searched her face and finally nodded, like he saw all of that. He might not like it, but he saw her. “I’m sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry about,” she whispered. She needed him to get out of there before the tears came back. “You’re a wonderful—”
He caught her around the waist, holding on tight, and for another split second, she thought she might give in. Oh, how she wanted him to stay. To let him hold her for as long as he wanted, no strings attached. But she wanted more from Owen than he would ever be able to give her, through no fault of his own.
“Love makes us stupid,” she said, hugging him tight. “But that’s okay. I’m grateful for everything we’ve had.”
