Undeniably Asher (The Colloway Brothers Book 2)(99)

My mind is reeling with each new confession. My stomach’s now agitating like a washing machine in the spin cycle, so I set my whiskey down.

I reach up, wiping the tears away. “They found out, didn’t they?” My shaky voice is barely audible.

“Not until the accident.”

Once again, he reaches for my hand, twining it in his. I look at my small fingers engulfed by his large ones. I let myself remember the way it used to feel so long ago, skin tingling every time he touched me.

We were both put into an impossible situation, one that would never have a happy ending no matter how hard we would have tried. The bitterness and resentment slowly start melting away at that realization. My eyes lift to find him watching me attentively, waiting patiently.

“What happened after the accident?”

“My dad and your mom were called and they came to the hospital. I was in pretty bad shape. I had five broken ribs, a punctured lung, a fractured right arm in three places and my left leg was completely crushed. I needed a total of a hundred eighty stitches between my arms, head, and torso. I had swelling in my brain and was in a drug-induced coma for two weeks. I guess I went into cardiac arrest five times during those two weeks. I spent three weeks in ICU, but I was in the hospital for eight total.”

Then he releases my hand, bending over to draw up his pant leg. I almost lose my ability to breathe.

“Jesus, Beck.” I feel positively ill. Cooper’s words hit me like a sucker punch to the gut. “He’s suffered just as much as you have, if not more.” He’s right. Beck has suffered far more.

“I lost my leg right above the knee. I spent nine months in intense rehabilitation. I was in a bad way, Alyse. I went into a deep depression. I wanted to die. I thought my entire life was over. My father was furious with Elaine and me, and your father was practically homicidal, threatening to press charges. I later found out that my father paid him off to keep him quiet. Fifty grand. But part of the deal was I wasn’t to ever have contact with you again and let you believe that I’d died and…I agreed.” His voice cracks and I find myself comforting him by squeezing his hand. A smile plays on his lips before they press into a thin line.

“At the time, I thought it was for the best. I didn’t even want to live, let alone be with anyone, and I couldn’t imagine I could ever be loved by a woman—you—with part of my body missing.”

“Oh, Beck. It wouldn’t have mattered. Not to me.”

“I know that now, Alyse. But at the time I couldn’t make sense of anything. It took me years to physically and mentally get back to where I was before the accident. To actually want to live again. Depression makes you look at things very differently.”

“I know,” I reply softly.

His eyes are full of sorrow and understanding. “Jesus, I loved you so much. I wanted to marry you, and for weeks I’d been trying to figure a way out of the fucking mess I’d created. To tell you the truth, wipe the slate clean so I could be the man you deserved. But every scenario I came up with ended badly. I needed to tell you the truth to keep you, but the truth would drive you away, and I couldn’t bear the thought of that.

“And when you told me about the baby…for a split second, I can’t even describe how happy I was, but then reality crashed into me and I felt the bottom drop out. I felt like I’d lost everything before I even had it. I panicked. I drove recklessly and almost cost us our lives. I cost our baby its life and that torments me every fucking day, Alyse. Every. Fucking. Day.”

Next thing I know, Beck is beside me, my wet face in his palms. His eyes are wild with torment. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. About the accident. About the baby. About not coming back for you. About everything. I know you don’t want to hear it, but I am so very sorry, Alyse.”

“I forgive you,” I whisper. “I forgive you, Beck.”

Then his mouth is on mine, his need for me evident. His lips are soft and warm, as I remember. His kiss burns with longing and love as it always did. But this time I also taste regret.

When I saw Beck across the street last week, the feelings that washed through me were love, among so many others, but I couldn’t deny one of them was definitely love. But as I feel his mouth on mine now, I know it’s not the kind of love that forevers are made of. That kind of forever is with another man.

“Beck,” I mumble, placing my hands on his chest, pushing. “Beck, stop.”

Hands still frame my face as his forehead touches mine, chest heaving. “It’s too late, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”