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“You’re going to raise your child with Lynette.”
The apology in his expression intensifies as he says the words I don’t want to hear. “Yes.”
My b
reath hitches and I place my hands to his chest.
When I push to escape his hold, he refuses to let me go. “Zara…. Fuck, this is not what I want for us.”
“I… I know.” I stumble over my thoughts and my words.
How is this happening?
We were happy.
I saw a future.
With him.
With the man I was made for.
I push harder against his chest. When he still won’t let me go, I say, “Fury, let me go.”
His face twists with pain. “I don’t want to.”
“You have to.”
He holds me tighter. “Fucking hell…. This isn’t what I wanted.” The agony laced in his words matches the agony stabbing my heart.
“I know,” I whisper, my happiness shattering. I can’t hate him for putting his child first. For making this choice for his child. If anyone can understand making hard decisions for their baby, it’s me. Moving my hands to his face, I grasp his cheeks. “When life gives us a shitty situation, we have to choose from shitty options.”
His lips smash down onto mine at the same time my first tear falls. He claims me with this kiss, and I let him. My body lets him.
But it’s over all too fast and now I have to let him go.
I have to abandon all the hopes and dreams I had for us.
I have to let Fury go and be the good man I know him to be.
A good man who wasn’t made for me.
Part II
Four Years Later
29
Zara
* * *
I kill plants.
I can’t keep them alive to save myself.
Seriously, in my twenty-two years, I’ve not once managed to keep a plant alive. And I’ve tried to be a plant mother many times, so that’s a lot of failures on my record. I try not to take it as a sign of my likelihood of maternal success if I ever have a child, but maybe it’s nature’s way of telling me to never go down that path. I mean, there are plenty of other things I’m good at. Yoga, running, boxing, baking. And let’s not forget marketing. My first love. Well, besides my other first love who is no longer my love at all. But I’m trying hard not to think about him today, which is one of the hardest things to do because Storm is the reason I’m here today. And when I think of Storm, I can’t help but think of him.
Shit.
