“I made a lot of mistakes that I want to apologize for. One of those is that I let you believe it was your family that tore us apart.”
“I wouldn’t blame you if it was. They were out of line in their treatment of you. They still are. That’s why I was pissed when I came back from New York.”
Her face scrunches in confusion. “Did you tell them we were together?”
“Theodore mentioned seeing you in pictures from Bark in the Park. It led to a conversation.”
“After all this time . . .”
“Nathaniel and Carter have at least moved on from thinking you only want my money. Now, they’re allegedly enraged on my behalf because you disappeared. Mother still thinks you’re bad news.”
“Constance never did like me.” A smirk graces her pouty lips. “As for your brothers, can they make up their minds? Either they want us together or they don’t.” She rolls her eyes.
“Do you want us together?”
Tears well in her eyes again but she smiles softly. “I do.”
The relief that hits is overwhelming. It feels like I’ve been holding my breath for years and finally let it go. “Thank god.”
“But, I don’t know if you’ll still want me when you know the whole story.” Her voice is so small, it cracks my heart wide open.
“Whatever it is. We can get through it.” If she’s worried about what happened while we were apart, I don’t care. I didn’t exactly live like I was married the entire time. I doubt she did either.
“Let me get this out first,” she begs. Nodding, I move closer to her on the couch, needing the feel of her touch to ground me. Her knee brushes my thigh, and I place my hand there again.
“I told you about my endometriosis, but I left something out.”
I wait patiently for her to find the words, lightly stroking her knee with my thumb.
“Endo doesn’t only cause a lot of pain and a heavy flow during my periods, it also comes with infertility issues.”
Everything in me freezes. “What does that mean?”
She clutches my hand as if her grip alone can hold her together when the devastation on her face tells me what comes next is even more heartbreaking. Her voice cracks when she tries to talk again and it takes a beat before she can get the words out. “It means I likely won’t be able to have children. One of the treatment options is a hysterectomy instead of just a clean-up surgery.”
If I weren’t so consumed with Taylor, I may have been more shocked by this admission, but right now, all I can think about is her. Pulling her into me with my free arm, I wrap her in a hug and absorb her weight as her tears spill over and drip onto our joined hands. My own eyes fill with unshed tears but this moment isn’t about me. How long has she been carrying this weight on her own? It’s unfathomable.
After a few minutes, I pull back and ask, “Is that why you left?”
“You’ve always wanted kids.” Taylor shifts further away fromme and won’t meet my gaze as she says it, like the words themselves are too hard to bear and that a look at me will send her over the edge.
“I’ve always wanted you!” Anxious energy floods my system. I need to move. Getting up, I pace by the windows.
I run my fingers through my hair as I process the words, then I turn back to her. She shakes her head but stays silent as tears stream down her face. “Jesus, Tay. Did you seriously think this would make me not want you? Not want a life with you?”
She can’t be serious right now. Doesn’t she know how much it wrecked me when she left and went no contact? Doesn’t she know I’d choose her over everything?
“I don’t know what I thought. It’s just—once I realized how real this was, how probable it was that I wouldn’t be able to give you the family you’ve always talked about, I freaked. I ran.”
And she never stopped running. Taylor Baker has been running her whole life. She slows down every now and then, but there’s never a time where she completely stops.
She draws in a shaky breath. “It was easier to break my own heart than to tell you that your dream for our life wasn’t possible.”
This woman. She infuriates me. Needing a beat, I face the windows again and draw in a deep breath to calm my racing thoughts and pulse.
Spinning back to her, I ask “And what? You thought running away and refusing to talk to me while also serving me divorce papers wouldn’t break my heart? That wasn’t taking my dream of our life away just the same? Maybe worse?”
“Hearing it out loud makes it sound worse.” Her bottom lip trembles when she looks up at me.
