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“Of course, it fucking matters, Izzy,” he growls. “If you think I’m going to let some asshole hurt you like that and get away with it, you don’t know me at all.”

I sigh. “Can we table this for later? There is more to the story.”

“Jesus fucking Christ. I don’t know how much more I can take.” He turns to the park, staring out at the rundown swing set as he clenches his fist at his side. His muscles are impossibly tight and I swear, he looks like he’s about to break. This is my story but now it’s causing him pain and I can’t stand it. Releasing another sigh, I let go of his hand and manage to maneuver my body into his lap, straddling his legs and grabbing his face with both hands.

“Do you want me to stop?”

He meets my eyes and uncertainty shines back at me. “How bad does it get?”

“I… I don’t know how to answer that. He never hurt me physically if that’s what you mean,” I admit and his nostrils flare as he takes a deep breath and grips my hips in his hands, nodding for me to continue. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

Dragging my hands down from his face to his chest, I run my fingers along the stitching on his cut. “After we split, I moved back in with my mom and she helped me file for divorce. He ended up staying with his fiancée and baby girl but that didn’t stop him from constantly texting me. One of the first things he sent was a photo he took on the night of our wedding with two hookers. Apparently when he disappeared after our fight, he found himself some company for the evening. He liked to send photos of their time together a lot. Other times he would tell me about all the times he was off screwing Amber behind my back or how he shared naked photos of me with all of his friends. Once he got tired of all that, he would talk in great detail about the things I let him do to me sexually and then he’d shame me for it, telling me that everyone knew what a whore I was.”

“And so you started using men the way he used you?”

I nod, refusing to meet his eyes. This is the part of the story I’m least proud of but at the time, it all made sense to me. “It was about taking back my power and protecting myself from ever letting anyone do something like that to me again. The thing is, I never thought about it this long-term, you know? I was just so dead set on never feeling that way again that I had blinders on.”

“I get it, Mama,” he whispers, brushing the hair out of my face and I meet his gaze. “How does the baby you lost come into all this?”

Shit.

You’d think since I already told him this part of the story, it would be easier to say now but it’s not. I rest my hand on my bump, pulling comfort from my little boy as he lands a kick to my ribs.

“Two months after we split, I had been sick a lot and my mom made me take a pregnancy test. It was positive. She was livid and I was scared as hell but I promised myself and my baby that I would be a good mother, that I would give it everything I had. And well, you know the rest. I passed out in class and when I woke up, my baby was dead.”

The tears I’ve been fighting back this whole time spill down my cheeks and I try to turn away from him but he cradles my cheek in his hand, not letting me hide from him. I stare down at his chest, willing the pain to stop but like I said, the floodgates have been opened. Diego forces my gaze to his, despite my objections and when he meets my eyes, I see something inside him break. Pulling me forward, he kisses me - soft, sweet, and full of so much love that a sob bubbles out of me but he doesn’t back away, doesn’t let me go as he tries to give me some kind of comfort.

What’s even more shocking is that it’s working.

My tears slow and the ache in my chest eases oh so slightly and when he pulls away, I almost want to drag his lips back to mine. He drags his thumb across my cheek, wiping away my tears, before leaning in and planting three more kisses against my lips.

“I’m so sorry, Izzy. So fucking sorry and I get it now. I understand why you’ve been running from me as hard as you have been.”

I shake my head. “I don’t want to do that anymore, Diego… but I don’t know how to let you in. I’m fucking broken. Can’t you see that?”

“No,” he snaps, shaking his head and the determination in his eyes shouldn’t surprise me but it does. “I can’t see that and…”

His phone rings, cutting him off and he sighs as he reaches into his pocket and pulls it out, checking the screen. He looks irritated as he answers the call and turns it on speakerphone.

“What’s up, Streak?”

“Hey,” he answers. “Where are you?”

Diego’s eyes narrow. “Out. Why?”

“You’re going to want to come back to the clubhouse. I’ve got things to share with everyone.”

“Yeah,” he answers, his eyes meeting mine. “Okay. I’ll be there soon.”

I scramble out of his lap as fast as my swollen belly will allow and he watches me as he hangs up the phone before sighing. Once I’m back in my seat, I glance over at him and he locks eyes with me. The fire staring back at me is one I’ve become well acquainted with since moving in with Diego and I know there is no way in hell he’s going to let this go.

Shit.

Do I even want him to?

Chapter Twenty-Eight