He looks at his swollen knuckles with disgust and his voice comes out gutted but sure. "I will fix this."
"Fix this?" My laugh is bitter. "You think you can smile your way out of this? This is a baby we're talking about!"
"I will fix it, I swear, Emma—"
"Don't," I cut in, my voice a blade. "Don't say my name anymore. I knew it. Knew something catastrophic was coming, because with you it always does. You don't just enter my life—you demolish it."
"That's not true," he says, voice firm.
"It is! Every single time!"
"Not this time!" he shouts. "All I ever wanted was to be with you, to show you how much I changed. I swear it to you! Why do you think I stayed in New York? To prove it. I was getting us an apartment. I was trying—"
"Youwhat?" I cut in, frowning.
"Yeah! We were so happy there! I could give you anything in New York," he rushes out, and then his voice falters. "I wanted us to start our life as soon as possible."
My soul just capitulates at this point.
Now I see why he was so secretive, and I can't even be angry about it because while he was gone, I realized that's what I wanted as well.
But now I feel pathetic, because it's ruined with months-old fingerprints of another woman all over it.
"But you're going to be a father, Ben. I can't survive that. I can't," I say, voice trembling.
My knees buckle. He lunges, catching me mid-collapse,arms crushing me to his chest. His heartbeat hammers against my ear, frantic, even now in perfect sync with mine.
"Trust me," he says into my hair, voice breaking. "I'd give anything—fucking anything—to change it. To rewind time..."
For one suspended second I let myself sag into him.
The scent of his skin invades me and I hate him, and hate how I give in, because even now, through all that hate, he's the only thing keeping me alive.
My chin dips into that familiar groove of his chest, soaking it with my tears while the fridge hums in the background, a low, indifferent buzz echoing the noise inside me.
Then rage crystallizes, all at once, and my hands push against his chest.
"Go away."
His hands stiffen, but don't break away. "No. Emma. Please. Don't do this."
"Ben, I'm not asking. I need space. If you ever loved me, leave," I say, trying to push him again.
He grips me tighter, desperate. "I do love you. I love you more than anything in this goddamn world, and it kills me that I'm the one hurting you. If I could gut my chest and give you my heart, you'd see it's all you—you in every chamber." He slides down onto his knees, hands on my waist.
I frown through the blur of my tears and grab the plate that sits on the draining board next to me. It's airborne before I even realize I've moved.
"I SAID LEAVE!"
The glass shatters all across the wall, making both of usfreeze.
For a moment, we just stare at it, before he exhales roughly and rises without a word.
And then there's nothing but his shadow gone from the door, and me standing in the shards.
38
Time doesn't heal your wounds—caring for them does. That's what I realized after two weeks at Lu's, hiding.
