“What I think he was trying to say was that he thought it looked cheap. Like trailer trash. Like someone from the MC I tried to leave behind. It reminded him of you.” I whisper the last sentence.
“Ah.” He frowns at me. “Is that why you asked me that question this morning about whether you made the right choice?”
“Maybe,” I mumble and close my eyes. “I’ve been thinking about what you said, whether you were right. And whether I loved Connor enough to marry him.” His hand goes still, but he says nothing. “If I’m being completely honest, I think the answer to both questions is no.” Another tear rolls down my cheek and I sniffle. “Connor made me feel secure, like I could make it without you and the club.”
“Layne—”
“No, Kyler, let me finish.” I take a gasping breath. “I had it in my stupid head that when we had children, they would end up growing up without parents. That they would be orphans before they were eighteen, like…” I exhale deeply.
“Like you. But—”
“But the reason I no longer have parents has nothing to do with the club.” I sniff and then wipe my nose with the back of my hand. “God, I loved you with everything I had, but that fear…”
His arm slides across my waist, and he pulls me a little toward him.
“Connor was interested, and I saw a way out. A way not to give my future children the same thing I had. If giving you up was necessary, then so be it. People always say you make the ultimate sacrifice for your children, and for my eighteen-year-old self, that was it for my future spawn. It sounds ridiculous, but in that moment, it sounded completely logical.” I had several hours to think about this and now that I say it out loud, it sounds even sillier than it did in my head. “Marrying Connor was something I did out of fear of being alone; I was afraid I wouldn’t be strong enough on my own to stay away. He loved me, and he was a good man, but…” I exhale deeply, not being able to say that he was no Kyler. “I really don’t understand how he ended up in that situation with Vanderberg. Connor would never knowingly put us in danger.”
Kyler straightens up and presses a kiss to my forehead. “He once signed a contract with Viktor Koslov. I know that involved real estate as well, and that worked out fine, despite…”
“Vigo’s father?” His gray eyes meet mine, and I see only honesty in their depths. He nods. “But that man has connections to the Bratva?” My voice rises an octave and I cover my mouth with my hand, not wanting to wake Rebel.
“That’s right, but what I gathered from both Viktor and Vigo is that it was unrelated and had to do with real estate. Vanderberg is only known for his real estate, so I’m guessing Connor didn’t get into it with all that knowledge.” There’s a moment of silence and then Kyler asks, “‘Why did you stay with him all this time, Layne? Is the fear still there?’
Hesitantly, I shake my head. “I don’t think I realized it until you mentioned it this morning. It’s not that I didn’t love Connor, but when I think about it now…”
“Layne, you told me you loved Connor. When I asked you if you wanted to give us a chance, you literally told me that everything about him was safe and that’s why you chose him, but that you loved him. You’ve realized this before, but maybe you didn’t realize that you’d realized it. Do you get what I’m saying?”
I think long and hard, and now that he mentions it, it vaguely comes back to me. The night I told him I’d spoken to Rebel. “Then why did you think I didn’t love you enough? If I told you?”
“Damn it, Laynie.” He runs a hand through his hair. “You’re not the only one who’s picked up a few scars along the way. You cut me off, left me, went to another man. How else was I supposed to interpret that other than 'Kyler, you’re not worth it'?”
“We talked about it, I explained it to you,” I say, but I understand what he means. I stare at my hands, not wanting to look at him. “I ruined everything, didn’t I?”
His finger slides under my chin, lifts it up, and then he presses his mouth to mine. “Do you love me, Lay?”
“Yes,” I whisper.
Kyler rests his forehead against mine. “Enough to stay with me?” His eyes bore into mine.
“Enough that I can’t imagine how I’d do it again.”
“What?” he asks softly.
“Run away. I wouldn’t know how, Kyler.” I wrap my arms around his neck.
“Good. Tomorrow, you’re going home.”
“What?” The words hit me like a bucket of ice water. I just poured my heart out, told him I love him—and now he’s sending me away?
“Tomorrow, you pack your things. Take Rebel to her place—where she can sleep in a real bed. Then I’ll come.” He slides between my legs.
“Then you’ll come?” I’m lost in the conversation.
His nose brushes mine. “Yeah.” He kisses me, slow and deep, his tongue tracing the line of my lips until I open for him. He tilts his head, pushing the kiss deeper.
But my mind’s still spinning. I pull back. “What do you mean?”
“If you want, I’ll come to your place tomorrow.” He looks at me, meaning clear, then leans in closer.
