Page 35 of Roundabout

She did trust me, but only to choose her, not Brittni and Makya. That’s such bullshit. That’s her own assumption. That’s…

Fair.

It is. It’s fair. My first—and usually only—thought has always been Angela. Without her…

I never wanted to be without her.

And now that I am, I remember why. This is fucking torture. I forgot what life before Angela was like—dull, hazy, pointless. Being with her is like living life in sharp focus, everything’s so much clearer and makes more sense.

Nothing makes sense right now. Not what happened, not what I’m doing about it. I don’t want to be away from her, but I don’t know how to be around her either. I’m fucking livid.

We should be getting ready to exchange vows tomorrow.

But then we wouldn’t have Brittni and Makya.

No, she wouldn’t have Brittni and Makya.

Does it really matter? As long as they’re out of that house of horrors, that’s what really matters. I would’ve chosen those girls over anything, just…why’d it have to be our wedding?

Fuck. Angela’s right. I would’ve flinched, and that flinch could’ve cost Brit and her sister. I would’ve struggled to make the right decision, but only in this specific circumstance. If our wedding wasn’t in danger…

That’s just it, our wedding wouldn’t have been in danger if Angela came to me first. I would’ve found a way to get enough money to pay Nora off without draining Angela of everything. I’ll always find a way around anything standing between Angela and the happiness I think she deserves.

Because that’s where she’s wrong. I wouldn’t have chosen my own happiness of having Angela as my wife. I would’ve chosen her happiness. The girls being safe and sound would make her happy, happier than standing at an altar with a hundred and seventy-two faces staring at her.

Jesus. No wonder she didn’t have any problem choosing between the girls and that wedding. She never wanted it. She said it herself, she only wanted our family and three kinds of cake.

If she hadn’t sold her engagement ring, maybe I could’ve given her that kind of wedding. But that’s the one decision I can’t forgive her for making. I could forgive Angela anything, except that. That ring was a symbol of the love and hope and respect I’ve always had for her. I held on to it for years, waiting for the right time to give it to her. Her selling it, getting rid of it so quickly, so easily, is unforgivable. Angela doesn’t put a lot of sentiment into material items, but for me, it was so much more than a piece of jewelry. Finally seeing that ring on her was like my past, present, and future coming together in one place.

Now it’s just gone.

The Jeep stops at Beck’s house and the girls get out, Makya first, then Brittni. God, I don’t care what the papers say, those are my kids, too. Have been since I first laid eyes on them. Brittni and Makya were delivered to our front door with no shoes on their feet. They were sent to school, took the bus and everything, without shoes. No shoes, no socks. That wasn’t an oversight. That was a fucking crime.

I wanted to say so fucking much to Nora when I saw her the other day. I wanted to tell her what a piece of shit she is and how those girls deserve better, but I didn’t have to. My… Angela told her everything that needed to be said by getting the girls out of her clutches. I hate that she did it without me even knowing, but I’m glad she did it.

Angela gets out last and points at the house. Waiting until the girls disappear into the garage, she drapes her arm over her open door and stares at me with her head in her hand.

I thought she was here to see Jace. Is she planning on coming over here? I want her to as much as I don’t.

I want her to.

But if I so much as open my mouth right now, I’m not even sure what’ll come out.

I’m sorry.

I love you.

Fuck you.

Why?

It’s all right on the tip of my tongue, so I grind my back molars together, gazing at the most frustratingly beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, held, kissed, made love to, bickered with, cursed at, grown alongside, parented with, and loved with every fucking bit of my mind, body, and soul.

Angela eventually shuts her door and starts the trek toward me. With each step she takes, I feel the weight that’s been on my chest since Tuesday start to ease, allowing me to breathe fully for the first time in days.

Angela owns me wholly. It’s never been more apparent than this moment. After spending the last three days without her, I’m in fucking ruins.

“Were you—”