Page 153 of Seale the Deal

Ruger has never given me the impression that he struggles with courage, so his admission has me gripping the edge of the couch cushion.

I love you, he says, so firmly and sincerely I almost forget how to breathe.

My vision blurs, and I open my mouth.

Don’t say it back, he says softly. If you do, I can’t trust myself to not get on my knees and beg you to stay.

Tears instantly spill down my cheeks.

I love you, he repeats, his own voice roughening. And because I love you, I think I need to let you go for a little bit.

The words practically knock the wind out of me.

What do you mean?

He lets out a slow breath. I mean you can’t decide what you want for yourself while I’m right next to you, hoping you’ll choose me.

Fresh tears spill down my cheeks. You can’t decide this without me. It’s not fair.

Pain flashes across his face. I know.

No, I don’t think you do. My voice cracks. You don’t get to tell me you love me and then walk away before I can even respond.

Wrenley—

You don’t get to make the decision for both of us.

I’m not, he says. I meant what I said today. I will be there in that room waiting for you to walk toward me. And if you do, I will spend every breath I breathe to prove to you that you made the right choice. Until you walk away, I will be ready to marry you. You need to be the one to decide, though. And you need the space to do that away from us.

I don’t know how to react to any of this. He’s standing there looking every bit as devastated as I feel and somehow still trying to make this easier on me. The realization hurts in a way I wasn’t prepared for because there isn’t a villain here. There isn’t a person making unreasonable demands. There’s just a man who loves me enough to risk losing me if it means I’ll be certain of my choice.

You don’t want this, I whisper.

A humourless laugh escapes him. Not even a little.

The answer makes fresh tears spill down my cheeks because I already knew it. I can see it in the tightness around his eyes and the way his shoulders are locked in place. I think that’s what makes this so unbearable. He’s not asking because he’s pulling away from me.

He drags a hand through his hair and looks away for a moment before his gaze returns to mine.

I can see you trying to figure out the right answer. And every time I look at you, all I can think about is how badly I want you to stay, he says. And I know you see it too.

My chest tightens. Ruger—

You have to figure this out, Wren, he says. And not for me. For you.

What are you suggesting?

A separation, he says. Just until the wedding day.

I want to scream, to protest. But I see in his eyes there’s nothing I can do or say that will change his mind.

What if I still don’t know by then? I ask.

Pain flickers across his face. Then I don’t think you should marry me.

My mouth falls open. What?

I can’t ask you to marry me while wondering if there’s somewhere else you’d rather be, he says. I know this started as a plan to get you started in your career, but now you have real options. If we get married, it should be because we love each other and because we’re both choosing the life that comes with it, knowing that we might have to sacrifice something else. I know I’m never leaving Alaska, and I’m not going to ask you to stay here with me. But if you decide this is what you want, if you decide this is where you’re happy and you’ll have no regrets staying, then let’s do it. Let’s get married and build a life together. But if you’re even a little unsure, don’t force yourself into a future that isn’t right for you just because of me.