Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 103050 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103050 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
I’d like to think I’ve got a good grip on reality most of the time, but tonight, a part of me wishes he’d say yes, that he wants me to stay in New York.
Even though we’ve only been seeing each other for a few weeks, even though the last thing he wants to do is disrupt his daughter’s life any more than it is already. Even though I know it’s impossible for him to have all the feelings for me that I have for him, I still want him to pull me close and urge me to take the promotion and stay in New York.
“It’s complicated,” he finally says.
I look away so he can’t see my disappointment. “You’re right. It is.”
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he says.
I frown. “I know. You’d never try and hurt me.”
He sighs, and this time he pulls me close. I lay my head on his chest. “I wish I could freeze time and stay here forever,” he says. “But the world keeps turning and we’re forced to make decisions, take steps that lead us down one path or another.”
“Right,” I whisper. I’m not quite sure what he’s thinking, but by his tone, it’s not anything positive about where he sees our future going.
“You know I have to put Willow’s happiness before my own. Before anything.”
I nod my head against his chest, but I can’t answer. It feels like he’s breaking up with me. It’s not until right now that I realize not being with Deacon might devastate me.
I can’t speak.
If I talk, I might break into a million pieces.
“I just…” He stumbles with what to say. But there’s nothing to say. There’s no point in saying anything at all.
“Shhh,” I say. “Just hold me.”
He sighs. “We have to discuss this. I don’t want to be the kind of man you look back on as the guy who avoided things. Let’s really talk about this.”
I lift my head from his chest and gaze up at him. “Not here. Not now. This is Ryder’s night. These people are like family to me. I don’t want to do this now. I don’t want the man I’ve felt more for, more than I’ve ever felt for anyone, to break up with me on Ryder’s fortieth birthday,” I say, my voice tinged with regret and sadness.
Deacon pulls me closer. “I know it’s only been weeks, but I want you to know I’ve never felt for any woman the way I feel for you.”
Something in my stomach starts to desiccate and wither. I think it would be better if he hadn’t just said that. I want to be the breezy summer fling that New York was meant to bring. If we have real, deep feelings for each other, then me going back to Chilternshire to continue my orbit of other people’s lives seems appalling. Like I would leave behind in New York something I’ve wanted all my life—a family.
Except I’m never going to be able to offer any man a family. And Deacon can’t offer me anything because he wants life to stay exactly as it is. It’s an impossible situation.
“It’s not enough, though,” I say. “Is it?” I want desperately for him to tell me that there’s more hope than I think there is. I want him to ask me to stay and tell me we can make it work. That he can create small cracks in his world that would let me in. That he wouldn’t have to neglect Willow’s needs or put her second to be with me. That we could create a life together that would honor what Willow needs alongside being together.
But I know Deacon better than that. Since Willow was born, he’s been determined to right the wrongs of his own upbringing. Even though he can’t rewind time and change what happened, that’s what he’s trying to do. It’s futile, but he’ll die trying.
If I continue to want him, I’m going to continue to be disappointed because he can never give himself to me. And I’m not going to keep repeating my past mistakes. I’ve spent too much of my life waiting for men who were never going to give me what I want, or for life to come and grab me when I needed to go out and live it.
No more.
Now I need to make decisions based on what I want. On what I need. My life isn’t going to be about finding a husband to have a family with or waiting for a man to love me. I need to go out and find my own happiness.
“I don’t know,” he says. “I really don’t know what’s enough.”
But I know.
I know he won’t choose me over long-held beliefs that he has to change history before he can live fully.
And I won’t wait for him to pick me when I know he never will.