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I furrowed my brow, contemplating.

Maybe there was some truth to it.

Maybe that is why it hurt so damn much.

“This,” I said, holding my hand over my chest. “Doesn’t feel like it was with my ex. When we broke up, I was angry, sure, and hurt and embarrassed. But this?” I shook my head. “It feels like I lost something. Something vital. And it hurts.”

“I know,” she said, rubbing my shoulder.

“And even if what you said was true. Even if what we had was real. There isn’t anything I can do about it now.”

Harper pressed her lips together.

“What? I can’t, Harper. He’s going to be a dad. I can’t get in the way of that. Can’t be mad at a child for stealing away the love of my life. The baby is innocent in this. I won’t be the thing that drives Lukas away from it.”

“Love of your life.” Harper didn’t pose my term as a question, just stated the words.

Fresh tears welled in my eyes.

“Maybe take a few days,” Harper said. “Before you make any firm decisions. If he’s the love of your life—”

“Faith?” Sawyer called from the doorway.

“Thanks, Sawyer, but I’m not hungry,” I said, eyeing the burrito in his hand.

He glanced down at it and shook his head. “This is for me,” he said, flashing me an apologetic look before taking a massive bite. He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “But Lukas is standing outside my door.”

Harper and I bolted upright in the bed at the same time.

“What?” How had he found me?

“Yeah. I guess Eric told him you were here,” he said around the bite, then swallowed hard. “Didn’t know if you wanted me to get rid of him or if you wanted to talk.” He shrugged. “Your choice. I’m good either way.”

I might’ve smiled at the way Sawyer was certain he could get Lukas—in all his muscled, graceful glory—to leave by force if he had to, but I couldn’t because I was too busy panicking. I’d avoided all calls and texts and now he showed up at where I was hiding? If Eric told him, he must have a damn good reason.

Sawyer kept munching down on that burrito.

Waiting.

“If I keep ignoring him he’ll just keep coming,” I said, and swung my legs over the bed.

“Want me to come with?” he asked.

“No,” I said, not bothering to look in the mirror. I knew my curls were frizzed and scrunched and my face likely looked like a red puffy punching bag. “I’ll be all right, thanks.”

“We’ll be right here,” Harper said as I walked out the door, and the notion was comforting as I descended the stairs.

The front door was closed.

Sawyer had closed the door in Lukas’s face—someone who might be a potential teammate of his one day—for me. If I ever had any doubts about how deep our friendship ran, they were gone now.

My fingers trembled as I reached for the knob, but I managed to gather what was left of my dignity, and opened the door.

The breath rushed from my lungs at the sight of him—disheveled blond hair, wrinkled T-shirt and athletic pants, his glacial blue eyes churning with pain and just a tiny bit of madness.

“Faith,” he said on a breath, his accent thicker than normal. “Please, let me speak with you.”

I crossed my arms over my chest, needing to hold myself together. Because one look at him, and all I wanted to do was fall into those strong arms. To laugh with my friend, tease him, listen to him read. Watch him on the ice, cheer for him, and then help him land launch after launch of any product line he ever dreamed up.

I’d wanted it all.

And look where that had gotten me.

He eyed the threshold of the door, then noted my stance. Accepting that I wasn’t going to invite him in, he nodded and pulled a piece of paper from his pocket.

“Here,” he said, shoving it into my hands.

“What is this?” I asked, glancing at the numbers and words without really registering them.

“That,” he said, pointing to a line at the very bottom of the paper, “is legal proof that I’m not the child’s father.”

The air was knocked out of my lungs. I read the line, then looked at him, and read it again.

“Langley is handling the media, but Shea helped me secure a rapid paternity test.”

Hudson’s wife, the social worker, who handled paternity cases on the reg.

“So you know it’s solid,” he continued.

My heart begged to hope, but it was too wounded to mend this quickly.

“Faith,” he said my name again, reached for me, but dropped his hand before connection.

“You did sleep with her though,” I said, not posing it as a question.

“Over a year ago.”

I nodded.

“And protected,” he added, his eyes locking with mine. “I promise you. I’ve never been with anyone...the way I’ve been with you.”

The declaration sent warmth to my heart, but it was encased in a block of ice.

“Thank you for telling me,” I finally said, handing the paper back to him. He gripped it, confusion coloring his features. “It doesn’t change anything.”

“It changes everything,” he said, a bite to his tone. “I told you the truth. What happened yesterday, your sole reason for leaving…it was a huge misunderstanding.”

“I know,” I said. “And I’m grateful you told me the truth, but let’s be real, Lukas.” I sighed. “There is always going to be something like this. Something to drive us apart. Some woman—”

“That’s not fair,” he cut me off. “You knew who I was. You’ve always known. Which is why I thought you understood me more than anyone else.”

I bit down on my lip to keep the tears at bay.

“Älskling.”

My heart lurched.

“You know what that means. You know when I started saying it to you. Long before you said it to me.” His blue eyes glittered. “You’re pushing me away because you’re scared. The exact thing you were afraid I was doing to you. But in reality, I’ve been trying to fix the one thing that could drive us apart.” He shook his head. “But even now, after everything, you don’t believe I’m capable of loving you the way I do.” Hurt, genuine, raw, hurt churned in his eyes. He scraped his hands over his face, through his hair, and backed up two steps.

Then two more.

His eyes, cold, drained.

He parted his lips but closed them.

Waited.

Waited for me to stop him. To say something to discredit all he’d just said.

But the pain was so fresh, and my head so foggy.

So, I didn’t say anything.

And he turned around, got into his car, and left.

You don’t believe I’m capable of loving you the way I do.

His words rang through my mind, over and over.

It had been two miserable weeks, and I still felt like I’d never fully woken up from the nightmare.

Those words haunted my soul.

Because they were cold and unfair and…I hadn’t stopped him.

I groaned, drying my wet hair, trying to tame the wild curls.

I hadn’t stopped him.

He’d laid himself bare, to me…only to me.

And I’d let him walk away.

Because I’d been scared. Scared of how much I loved him and how much power it gave him to hurt me. Scared because I didn’t want to be the jealous girlfriend, who worried about every gorgeous woman who walked by.

But Lukas…he’d always made me feel like a queen.

And he loved me. Loved me enough to show me every piece of himself—the good and the bad and the brilliant.

And I hadn’t stopped him.

I loved him more than I’d ever loved anyone, and I’d let him go.

Let him go because I knew there would always be someone in the future, trying to cleave us apart, trying to take what was mine.

I should’ve known better

.

The words I’d spat at him when I’d been broken and hurt and angry.

I should’ve trusted him.

And I really should’ve known better.

Because there was nothing strong enough to kill the love I had for him, or him for me.

Ohmigod.

“You ready to go grab dinner?” Harper asked once I’d turned off my hair dryer and placed it on the bathroom counter.

“I don’t want to be his girlfriend,” I said, my mind bursting with clarity.

Harper tilted her head, her eyes wide. “Okay,” she said. “I didn’t think you were anymore.”

A hysterical laugh ripped from my lips, so fast Harper jumped.

“No,” I said. “I don’t want to be his girlfriend.”

Harper’s eyebrows raised before she put the back of her hand on my forehead. “Maybe we should just order in.”

I laughed again, the truth clanging through my soul with a solidarity I’d never known.

“I love him,” I said.

“I know.”

“Like, forever kind of love him.”

Harper’s eyes clicked with recognition. “What are you thinking?”


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