Linebacker’s Second Chance(96)

He nods and smiles. “This has taken a turn. A good turn—right?” He smiles, and his dimples form. It would make me melt if I weren’t about to describe the most painful shit in my life.





“Usually, in the damn novels, the woman or the man keeps a secret hidden from the person they care about. And it’s always annoying as shit. So I’m not going to do that to you. You’re right—I care about you.” I gulp and take a long breath, closing my eyes for an instant. “But I came here to escape my life in New York.”





“What is it? An ex-boyfriend? Did he hurt you?” Rowan’s voice is serious, and I wave a hand to brush his words away.





I open my eyes and look into his. “I came here after I had a miscarriage.” My voice breaks on the last word, like it always does. Even in the time I’ve been here, the pain feels raw and angry when I speak the word. I feel the pain again, physical and emotional, the pain I’ve been ignoring, pushing away.





“Cadence, I’m so sorry.” Rowan isn’t a sobbing, voice-cracking mess like I am, but his eyes are shiny, and he squeezes my hand hard. “That doesn’t—”





“Before you say that doesn’t matter, please let me finish.” I take a deep breath and try to pull my hand away, but he won’t let me go. “I can’t have a child. The man I was with before, Eli, we tried for five years.”





He knits his brows together again, and he pulls me closer. It’s the sweetest reaction, the one I never got from Eli through any of this shit. “You’re so young—”





I let out a sharp laugh. “Yes. I’m only thirty-two. I kind of feel like that’s old. I wanted a big house full of kids. Eli didn’t believe in marriage, but he wanted children too. He wanted the same things, and we tried for two years before any doctor would take us seriously. Then it was tests after tests after tests, and then injections. And then IVF. I had the last embryo transfer in early November, and it worked at first. Until it didn’t. You know how people say, ‘You can’t be a little bit pregnant?’ Well, you can. That was only the second time I actually got pregnant, but it didn’t stay. I was a little bit pregnant, but only for the smallest amount of time.”





Rowan runs his hands over my arms and holds me, and I feel like I might start crying and never stop, like I might break completely. I could have waited to tell him—I know that. He could easily tell me that we aren’t on that track, that wouldn’t be bound for that sort of thing if I stayed, that he doesn’t care. But to me, and I know to him too, there’s no denying that we would get there if I were to stay.





“Thank you,” he says. “You didn’t have to tell me that.” He pulls away, and his eyes are serious, with none of that spark that’s usually there.





“Rowan, I’m pretty sure I’m falling in love with you. And I can’t—” My breath stops for a moment, and my throat goes tight. The words came from somewhere deep inside, somewhere I hadn’t even opened up since I met Rowan. Tears start to run down my face, and I hang my head and let them fall. I know I’m not a pretty crier, but unfortunately I’m not going to scare Rowan away with puffy eyes and runny mascara.





“You’re pretty sure, are you?” He pauses, and I realize he’s still holding me, even though I feel far away. He takes my hands in his. Next to him, my long artist’s fingers feel small and delicate. Hell, next to all of him, I feel small and delicate, and there’s no man who’s ever made me feel that way. At five foot seven and a size twelve, no one has ever made me feel quite so sweet, just like he says I am. “I’m exceptionally, totally, and undeniably sure that I am in love with you, Cadence.”





I start sobbing openly and lean my head against his shoulder. “I’m broken, baby. I’m broken.” I choke the words out. “I lost everything I wanted, and I have no control over it, and I’m not ready for something like this. I’m not ready for a love like this when I feel like I don’t deserve it.”





“I know, baby girl. I know you feel that way. I won’t—I can’t—push you. But my God woman, you’ve been the brightest light I’ve ever seen—”





“Oh Jesus, just stop.”





“Stop what?”





“Being perfect,” I say, wiping tears away from my eyes.





He smiles, maybe a little sadly. “I am not that at all.”





“Just take me upstairs.”