“I love you and I want to be together. That’s where I see this going.”
That works fine for what we’re currently doing but not for what he’s asking of me.
“I love you, too, but I need to know where you see our relationship when you picture us a year from now. Five years. Ten years.”
“I see us together and happy.”
“I’m not asking for a marriage proposal or babies today. I’m not ready for either of those things right now, but you know that’s what I want one day. There’s no need in leaving my life behind to come here if you’re already certain that you’ll never consider marrying me or reversing the vasectomy.”
He runs his hands down his face and groans. “You wouldn’t want me for a husband. I was horrible.”
“You were never a husband to Bridgette. Just the nineteen-year-old friend who knocked her up and then married her because you thought it was the right thing to do. It was destined to fail from the start.”
“You don’t want kids with me. I was a horrible father.”
“You never got the chance to be a father.”
He places his arm over his eyes, hiding them from me. “You don’t know the terrible things that I thought before Eli was born.”
“I’m sure that no nineteen-year-old boy is thrilled about becoming a father.”
“Bridgette told me she was pregnant and my response was denial. I couldn’t believe that she got pregnant after only one time. I told myself she was wrong. And then she showed me the pregnancy test.”
I think denial is an appropriate response for anyone who isn’t planning to become pregnant. There’s no harm in that.
“I accepted that Bridgette was pregnant, but then I began to feel sorry for myself. I felt as though I was being forced to give up my freedom and my fun. Instead of partying, I’d be working. Instead of dating, I’d be married to someone I wasn’t in love with. Instead of playing college baseball, I was going to be raising a baby that I didn’t want. I pretended to be a stand-up guy who was happy to do the right thing but I wasn’t. I dragged my feet about marrying Bridgette because I hoped she’d miscarry and we could call off the wedding. I wished my own kid away and it came true.”
That must be a terrible burden to carry, but Lucas isn’t the reason his son died. “You can’t possibly think Eli’s death was your fault.”
“Eli was given a death sentence the moment he was conceived. I know that, but you can’t imagine the guilt that I’ve carried over how little value I placed on his life in those early months.”
“You were still a kid yourself.” No one can fault Lucas for having the maturity level of a nineteen-year-old boy.
“Bridgette was about halfway through the pregnancy the first time I saw him on the sonogram and everything changed. He became real. Instead of being a problem I wanted to be rid of, he became my son. I loved him, and I wanted him.”
“Of course you did.”
“Even though my feelings changed and I came to love him, I’ll never forgive myself for wishing him away. It’s a guilt I’ll carry for the rest of my life.”
“You have to forgive yourself.”
I have to convince Lucas that he’s worthy of being happy, being a husband, fathering another child.
Lucas says nothing, continuing to stare at the ceiling. I climb over him and hold his face in my hands, looking into his eyes. “Lucas. You deserve happiness. Let’s be happy together.”
My eyes are locked on his but he breaks the connection by closing his lids. “You want things that I can’t give you.”
Can’t is different from won’t.
“You won’t consider marriage? You won’t consider reversing the vasectomy?”
The answer he gives me now will dictate the rest of our relationship. And I’m terrified. I know how decided he has been about both issues.
But his decisions were made before me. Before us.
We’re so damn good together, but I won’t give up my lifelong dream of having my own family. The fairy tale exists, and I’m going to fight for it.
“Whatever your decision is, think hard and be sure that you mean what you say before you answer.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t give you the things you want, Lawrence.”
My heart fractures down the middle and shatters into a million shards inside my chest.
“I want nothing more than to be with you every day, but I’d be lying to get you here if I said I would consider getting married again or reversing the vasectomy.”
The saddest discovery you can ever make is realizing you’ve fallen truly, madly, and deeply in love with a dream that will never be.
My mistake.
I didn’t need a marriage proposal tonight or a promise to give me a child. All I wanted to see was some kind of compromise on Lucas’s part so I didn’t feel like I was the only one conceding. Instead, I see how content he is to make no concessions while I give up everything.
I move off him and slide to the side of the bed.
“Where are you going?”
“Bathroom.”
The door barely shuts before my chest vibrates and warm droplets of realization slide down my cheeks.
I can’t be with a man who uses the past to dictate his future. Or one who cares so little about me that he’s unwilling to compromise.
And here it is. A miserable end to our epic love story.
I hate these falling tears.
I hate this pain.
I hate this ache in my chest.
Lucas taps on the bathroom door as I’m pulling on the T-shirt and jeans that I wore earlier. “Everything okay in there, baby?”
No. Nothing is okay but I don’t want him to know that. I’m not having this conversation through the door.
I clear my voice because I don’t want to sound like I’m crying. “I’ll be out in a minute.”
I finish dressing and pull my hair into a knot on top of my head. When I finish, I stuff everything belonging to me into my bag without any concern for organization.
Opening the bathroom door, I come face-to-face with Lucas. His eyes scan my clothing and his mouth opens, his head shaking. “No! No, Lawrence. You’re not doing this.”
He catches my arm and I pull it from his grasp. “I am doing this.”
“Please don’t.”
I place my bag on the bed and go into the closet to fetch my clothes—these damn clothes. I could walk out of here if it weren’t for them.
They’re just clothes. Maybe I walk out and leave them behind. Because continuing this conversation is only going to break my heart more.
Lucas stands at the closet doorway as I pull clothing from hangers. “Please don’t leave me, Lawrence. I love you.”
“Not enough.”
He blocks the doorway with his body. “Don’t say that. Don’t ever say that.”
“Love is about give and take. Meeting in the middle. If I move to Birmingham, your life stays the same while everything in mine changes. I was content with doing that as long as you were willing to consider thinking about the two things I want. No promises. No guarantees. I only asked you to think about them, and you won’t even do that. I can’t be with someone so unwilling to compromise.”
“I’m sorry, babe. You picked the two things in my life where a middle ground doesn’t exist.”
“I’m sorry too.”
Lucas steps out of my way and I go to the bed, placing my clothing in my bag. When I finish, I stand over my zipped bag.
As he comes to me, I turn, and he pulls me into his arms, pressing his forehead to mine. “You have no idea how badly I want to give you everything your heart desires. But I can’t and it’s killing me. My heart is breaking.”
“Your heart isn’t breaking more than mine.” Because I thought he loved me enough to consider bending a little.
“This shouldn’t be happening. I ought to be making love to you, not watching you walk out the door.”
“Something we can agree upon.”
&nb
sp; Lucas holds the sides of my face and kisses my forehead. “This isn’t right. I love you. I want you to stay with me.”
He isn’t going to change his mind. Therefore, there’s no reason to stay. “You’ve made your decision and now I’ve made mine.”
“So this is it? No more weekends? No more… anything?”
“This relationship isn’t going anywhere.”
“Just because we’re not walking down the aisle doesn’t mean that our relationship isn’t going anywhere. Lots of couples are happy without being married and having kids.”
He isn’t listening to me. But he’s going to.
Reaching out, I hold his face in my hands and look at his eyes. “Hear what I’m saying, Lucas. I want a husband. I want babies. No matter how happy we are, that need and desire isn’t going to go away. It’s a part of me.”
“Then I guess there’s nothing else for me to say.”
Lucas follows me to the car, carrying my bag. He opens the driver’s door but closes it before I’m able to get inside. “Fuck, I don’t want this. Saying goodbye to you is killing me.”
I could throw my arms around him and say fuck marriage and kids because all I want is him. But I’d be cheating myself out of what I truly want in life.
I place one of my hands on the side of his face. “I love you, Lucas Broussard.”
“I love you, Lawrence Thorn.”
Oh God, this is the last time I’ll ever touch him like this.
“Kiss me one last time.”
I lick my lips and it’s all the permission he needs. His mouth lands on mine, and he pulls my body hard against his. His kiss is slow, romantic, yet dominant. Different from all our others. Because this is a goodbye kiss. And it’s shattering my heart all over again.
When he releases me, his forehead is pressed to mine. “If you change your mind, I will be right here, waiting for you.”
I’m not settling for less. If he wants me, it’ll be on my terms. “You know where to find me if you change yours.”
“Oh, Ollie.” I launch myself into my brother’s arms when he opens his front door.
Wrapping his arms around me, he pats the back of my hair. He did the same thing when we were kids in an attempt to soothe me. “I’m gonna kill that fucker. What did he do to you?”
My chest spasms as I try to catch my breath. “Not… what… you’re… thinking.”
“Well, something happened and I doubt you’d be here if he hadn’t done something to hurt you.”
Ollie takes my bag from my shoulder and leads me to the couch. “Tell me what he did, Lawry. The truth. Don’t sugarcoat it to protect him.”
“Nothing bad.”
“You’re crying your eyes out. Give me one good reason that I shouldn’t go kick his ass right now.”
“Lucas asked me to move here, and I was willing to do that for him but not without some kind of commitment.”
“Oh God. The C word.”
I punch Ollie in the arm. Hard. “You asshole! You’re already siding with him.”
He rubs his bicep. “I’m not siding with Lucas over you. I said that because I assume your idea of commitment is marriage, and I know how he feels about that.”
“What do you know about it?”
“Lucas says he’ll never marry or have children. I’ve heard him say it at least a dozen times.”
“I didn’t expect a proposal or babies right now. I only asked him to be open to considering them in the future, which is less than a commitment if you think about it.”
“Lawry, you asked him to consider giving you the two things that he adamantly doesn’t want.”
“I thought he might reconsider if he loved me enough.”
And I was wrong. Very wrong.
“Both of those things caused him a lot of pain in the past. He’s terrified of going there again.”
Lucas is terrified because he’s not analyzed his marriage or the death of his baby from an adult’s point of view. He’s never sorted through the guilt. He still sees everything from a teenage boy’s perspective.
“If he can’t stop making decisions based on the past, we can’t be together.”
End of story.
End. Of. Us.
Period.
I’ve been through some difficult shit in my life. But I’m certain the most difficult thing that I’ll ever do is walk away from Lucas Broussard.
23
Lucas Broussard
I twirl Lawrence’s note back and forth between my two fingers as I read the scribbled black ink over and over. I love you. How can those three damn words break my heart every time I look at them?
I do this to myself every day, forcing myself to remember how good we were together.
Until I fucked it up.
I bring the note to my nose and inhale. Six months have come and gone since she left me, but the paper still faintly smells like lavender and vanilla. Just like her. I’m surprised I haven’t sniffed away every bit of essence from it. But it wouldn’t matter. My house is permeated with her fragrance. I’ve filled it with candles and oil diffusers. I walk around smelling like damn flowers and cookies.
Fuck, I miss her. Time isn’t making this better. If anything, it’s getting worse.
I tried to fuck someone else. I thought having another woman beneath me would get Lawrence out of my system. It was a fail. I couldn’t go through with it because I thought of Lawrence every time I looked at another woman.
I don’t know if or when I’ll ever be able to move on.
I was numb the first month following our separation. And maybe a little pissed off since I had told her from the start that I wouldn’t remarry or ever risk losing another child. Hell, what part of a vasectomy did she not understand? I was honest with her from day one.
But then one month turned into two. And my anger went away when I stopped thinking of myself and how much I was hurting. Hadn’t she told me from day one what she wanted as well? Yet I was the one who pursued her. I went to Savannah with every intention of making her mine, a woman who had clearly told me she wanted marriage and children. Did I not know somewhere deep inside she would eventually want those things from me if our relationship progressed? Of course I did. I’d be lying if I said otherwise.
We’d been apart a few months the first time I googled vasectomy reversal. I knew there was no denying it; the act itself was a serious indication that I was on the verge of caving to Lawrence’s demands. But by month four or five, it didn’t feel like such a concession on my part anymore. I loved her and didn’t want to be apart from her. Wouldn’t the next logical step be to marry her? And isn’t it a reasonable thought to expect children after that?
Bridgette hasn’t missed an opportunity to tell me what an idiot I am for letting Lawrence go. And she’s right. Even my sweet Bebelle, who is growing like a weed, has given me grief about letting her get away.
Bridge would rub it in my face so fucking hard if I told her she had been right when she said I should marry Lawrence and have the vasectomy reversed.
Sitting here, I face the cold, hard truth: Lawrence was my world. My everything. And I let her go.
If I don’t show her how special she is, another man will.
If I don’t put a ring on her finger, another man will.
If I don’t give her babies, another man will.
Can I live with that? Fuck no. The thought makes me blind with rage and jealousy.
A knock on my door gains my attention. “Hey, Lucas. Are you busy?”
I fold Lawrence’s note and put it away in my top drawer. “Not too bad.”
Oliver comes into my office and takes the seat across from me. Hands clasped behind his head. Feet up on my desk to piss me off. This is the old Oliver. “I know it’s quitting time but do you feel like talking business for a minute?”
“Always.” Business is all I have now because there’s nothing waiting at home for me.
But there could have been if I hadn’t been such a fucking hardheaded fool.
“I’ve been in contact with a hard-cider company still in its infancy. They’re having a rough go at getting started and may be looking for a partner. I’ve been kicking around the idea of trying to produce and market a cider. This could be the perfect opportunity to get in on it. I’m curious to know what your thoughts would be about buying into something like that. Maybe making it a sister company to Iron City.”
Oliver has been a machine since he left rehab. All he thinks about are ways to grow the company.
“I’m always interested if there’s money to be made. How do you feel about what they’re producing?”
“I love what they’re doing over there—totally thinking out of the box. And everything is organic.”
Organic. With just that one simple word, my mind immediately goes to Lawrence. Not that it wasn’t partially on her already.
“I’m happy to take a look at the books whenever you’re ready.”
“Would you be free to drive over with me this weekend?”
It’s not as though I have any plans. My life is shit. “Sure, I can do it. Where are we going?”
“Savannah.”
This cider company could be anywhere in the fucking world and it’s in Savannah, Georgia. With her. “I don’t know about that, man.”
“This is business, Lucas. It’s all about perfect timing and financial opportunity. Not my sister.”
I know. But she’ll be there. Within my reach.
“I can’t believe you’d puss out on this deal and give up an opportunity to make money because you’re scared of seeing my sister.”
“I’m not scared to see her.” Actually, I’d like nothing more. But I’m terrified of falling to my knees and telling her that I’ll give her everything she wants if she’ll have me back again.
Am I ready to do that? Put a ring on her finger and babies inside of her?
Yes. After six months of misery, I’m ready to do whatever it takes to have her in my life again.
“There’s been a lot going on in Lawry’s life. She’s busy doing stuff. Don’t worry. You won’t run into her.”
“What kind of stuff?” And what’s keeping her busy?
Bohemian Girl (Southern Girl Series Book 1) Page 23