My eyes well up all over again. Potato and gravy is what I craved last time I was pregnant. He remembered. “Thank you.”
“You eat, I’ll cuddle.” He slips into bed beside me and places an arm around my shoulders. My instincts tell me to let him take care of everything. It would be so easy. But I can’t. I need to depend on myself, right?
I grab the spoon and dig into the potato. Meanwhile, Seth’s silent presence is simultaneously comforting and discomfiting.
“I don’t know what I’d have done if something happened to you or the baby,” he says eventually. “I’ve loved you since the day we met, and I’ve already grown to love the little guy too.”
I continue with the potato, unsure how to respond.
“It’s okay if you don’t feel like talking.” He rubs his palm up and down my back. “I’m trying to be a better communicator than I used to be. The truth is, I loved you when we were apart, and I believe I’ll love you until the day I die.”
My gaze snaps to him, temper flaring. “You’d better not be planning to die anytime soon.”
He chuckles. “I’m not. But even if something were to happen to the baby, I’d want to be with you.” His hand stops moving and rests on the small of my back. “You may think you’re weak, but not seeing you for three years nearly destroyed me. There was nothing in my life worth coming home to at the end of the day. If anything, I’m the weak one. If you need a kid to be happy and the worst were to come about, we could try again, or choose to adopt or foster instead. I love you, Ashlin. Unconditionally. And I’m here for you when you want to talk.”
The last mouthful of potato nearly sticks in my throat, which is so clogged with emotion that I struggle to swallow. When I manage it, I set the bowl aside and nestle into the crook of his shoulder. Then the tears come again. He’s so perfect. Saying all the right things. But I feel like I’m about to crack into a thousand pieces. I love him with every fiber of my being, but for some reason, I just can’t bring myself to say it tonight. Admitting my feelings doesn’t feel safe. It’s as though my subconscious believes I’ll be able to hold myself together—come what may—as long as I don’t verbalize anything.
25
Seth
My fist slams into a punching bag and I grunt with the effort, then draw back and let fly with the other fist. Left, right. Left, right. My knuckles scream in pain, not used to this treatment after years of taking it easy. Still, it’s not enough. I kick the bag. Again. And again. Around me, the gym is oddly quiet. Rap plays over the speakers, but the usual chatter is absent.
Punch. Kick.
A timer squeals, but I don’t stop. It’s like there’s a demon I need to exorcise. I woke up angry and left the house before Ashlin got out of bed, leaving a note and breakfast for her on the counter. I was afraid that if we were in the same room at the same time, I’d snap at her, when it’s not her I’m angry at. It’s myself.
I hate to think what she went through yesterday, and how scared she must have been when she couldn’t get in touch with me. All because I was on a stupid work-related phone call, trying to schmooze my way into getting Leo his first fight at my gym. She needed me, and I wasn’t there for her. Once again, I let her down.
But that’s not the only thing causing me pain. I proposed, and she didn’t accept. Perhaps it was shitty timing, but I meant it with my whole being.
Punch. Kick.
“Seth!” A voice calls from behind me.
Jase.
“Chill out, man,” comes another.
Devon.
Spinning around, I pin them both with a glare for daring to interrupt. Devon holds his hands up in a gesture of peace, but Jase stares right back at me, then jerks his thumb toward the office.
“I’m busy.”
He repeats the motion, eyes becoming flinty. “I don’t think you want me airing your dirty laundry out here.”
“You wouldn’t.”
He crosses his tattooed arms over his chest. “I don’t want to, but if it’s the only way I can talk to you, then I might have to.”
I glance at Devon. “You’re in on this?”
He shrugs. “Jase is the closest thing you have to a best friend. Someone needed to tell him.”
I sigh, and glance longingly at the bag. This is what you get for befriending your fighters. “Fine.”
I lead the way to my office and sink into my usual chair, leaving them to decide who gets the other one. Jase sits. Devon leans against the wall.
