Chapter 94 (1/2)

I’m trying to rub salve onto the wound I’ve created, but her expression lets me know I’m doing the opposite.

“What I’m trying—and utterly fucking failing to accomplish—to say is that I love you, and I’m an insensitive prick for not being present for you just now. I put myself first, as always, and I’m sorry.” My words seem to pull her out of herself, and she brings her eyes to mine.

“Thank you.” She pulls one of her wrists from my hand, and I hesitate to let it go, but I’m relieved when she raises her hand to wipe her eyes. “I’m sorry that you feel like I took something from you.”

But I can tell she has more to say. “Don’t hold back. I know you; say what you need to say.”

“I hate the way you reacted,” she huffs.

“I know I’m—”

She puts a hand in the air. “I wasn’t finished.” Tessa clears her throat. “I have wanted to be a mother since I can remember. I was just like every other girl with her dolls, maybe more so. Being a mother was so important to me. I never, ever questioned or worried that I may not be able to be one.”

“I know, I—”

“Please, let me talk.” She grinds her teeth.

I really should shut up, for once. Instead of responding, I nod and stay silent.

“I’m feeling this incredible loss right now. And I don’t have the energy to worry about you blaming me. It’s okay for you to feel the loss, too; I want you to always be open with how you feel, but you haven’t had any of your dreams crushed here. You didn’t want children until ten minutes ago, and so I don’t find it fair for you to be this way.”

I wait a few seconds and raise a brow at her, seeking her permission to speak. She nods, but then the loud horn of a semi blares through the air, making her nearly jump out of the car.

“I’m going to drive back to Vance’s,” I say. “But I would like to come in and be with you.”

Tessa looks out of the window but gives me a small nod.

“I mean, in a comforting way, like I should have been.”

With a gesture just as slight as her nod, I catch her rolling her eyes.

Chapter fifty-seven

TESSA

Hardin shares an awkward glance with Vance as we pass him in the hallway. It’s strange, having Hardin here with me after everything that has happened. I can’t ignore the effort and restraint he’s showing by coming to this house, Vance’s house.

It’s hard to focus on just one of the many problems that have cropped up of late: Hardin’s behavior in London, Vance and Trish, my father’s death, my fertility issues.