by JC Harroway
Becka spun around and would have tripped if he hadn’t caught her. She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I thought you just said ‘marry me,’ but there’s no way you actually said that, because that would be crazy.”
“As crazy as moving you in here and realizing we’d actually be good together.” The brakes that had kept him quiet up to this point were long gone, and the sheer horror on her face only spurred him to keep talking. He’d only get one chance to convince her of this. Aaron clasped her shoulders. “Becka, I love you. I think if you weren’t so scared, you could admit that you love me, too. And today more than proved that we both already love this baby. We’re not your parents. We’re not going to make those same mistakes, no matter what you think. Trust me.”
“Trust you.” A laugh burst from her that edged toward hysterical. “How can I trust you when you just turned around and did everything you promised you wouldn’t? You promised to give me time.”
Frustration ignited into fury. “I have given you time. I’ve respected your childish desire to hide under the covers and ignore what’s happening instead of planning accordingly and facing it. I’ve sat back and watched you play pretend for six fucking weeks, Becka. That ends now.”
“I see.” She nodded and stepped back, out of his reach. “I wasn’t the only one playing pretend, though, was I? You had this idea of what the future was supposed to look like, and you’ve systematically ignored any piece of evidence that doesn’t line up with that plan. I’m not some perfect little wifey who’s going to fall into line just because you will it to happen. I’m only me, Aaron. I’ve only ever been me. And you’ve been asking too much from the very beginning.”
The floor seemed to tilt beneath his feet, but he was too angry to care. This was the truth he hadn’t wanted to face, the thread running through her that he didn’t have the words to combat. Even if he had, Becka possessed a singular ability to tune out anything that didn’t fit with her worldview. Just like she was doing right goddamn now.
He crossed his arms over his chest and strove to keep his tone even and not yell at her. If he could just get her to listen, they could talk their way through this. “I’d rather shoot for the stars than be content to live in the dirt just because I’m too afraid of repeating my parents’ mistake. The last month has more than proven that you’re not like them—like her. Why can everyone see that but you?”
Her blue eyes flashed. “Really? I’m the one who’s letting my parents’ lives get in the way of reality? Because your happy home that you grew up in has given you a wicked case of rose-tinted glasses. Wake up. Life isn’t like that for most people. More than half the people who get married turn around and get divorced again within seven years. That is a fact you can hang your hat on—not this fantasy future you’ve created in your head. You and I?” She motioned between them. “We would never work. Not outside this fucked-up situation, and sure as hell not in a marriage.” Becka shook her head. “I should leave.”
He’d fought so fucking hard to make her see, and he might as well have been yelling into a hurricane. Both actions accomplished a grand total of jack shit. She had her reality, and she fought tooth and nail to stay there. Aaron knew a thing or two about fear, but he’d always faced that emotion down until he conquered it. It was the only way forward. Her flat-out refusal to even try...
It’s over.
“No need for you to leave. I will.” He turned for the door but paused. “It doesn’t have to be like this, Becka. All you have to do is take a leap with me and trust in us.” Aaron found himself holding his breath as he waited for her answer.
But she only shook her head again, her eyes shining. “We won’t fly, Aaron. The free fall might feel like it for a little while, but the landing will ruin us both.”
He searched for something more to say, but in the end it wouldn’t change anything. “I’ll be at the next appointment.”
She hesitated like she wanted to tell him to fuck off but finally gave a short nod. “Wouldn’t expect anything different.”
This was it. It was really over.
Aaron turned without another word and walked out of the penthouse.
* * *
Becka barely had the energy to walk down the hallway to collapse on her bed. She buried her face in her cold pillow, hating that it wasn’t the one on Aaron’s bed that smelled like him, and hating herself even more for wanting that in the first place. She screamed into the offending pillow, but it didn’t make her feel the least bit better.
Why would it?
Aaron had left.
Not only left—left because she’d freaked out on him and kept yelling until he couldn’t stand to be in the same space as her. Just like her parents.
No, that wasn’t fair...
But Becka didn’t feel much like being fair right then. He threw that marriage proposal—if someone could even call it that—at her like it was the most logical step to take. And when she—understandably—freaked out, he cut and ran.
He left her.
She rolled onto her back and stared at the white ceiling. “Okay. Okay, he left. Which is a shitty way to end an argument. But this is Aaron we’re talking about. Maybe he just needs to walk it off a little bit and then he’ll be back here with some kind of plan and we’ll figure this out in a way that doesn’t involve a shotgun wedding.” She took a shuddering breath. “And then I will put my issues on hold and talk to him instead of freaking out.” Not an easy task by any means, but she could make an effort. She would make an effort.
She might not be ready to marry him, but she did care about him and she didn’t want to be without him. Becka scrubbed a hand over her face. Trust their first real fight to be one for the record books. She rolled over to get more comfortable and stared at the clock. An hour—two, tops—and he’d be back there. She just had to smother her instinct to flee the penthouse until then. She curled her legs and hugged the second pillow on the bed.
Just a little longer...
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
TWENTY-FOUR HOURS LATER, Becka ran out of excuses. Aaron hadn’t come home last night, and though she’d called in to both her jobs because she wanted to be here when he did come back...he didn’t. She checked her phone, but her single text had gone unanswered.
He left me.
No, stop that. Maybe something happened. This is Aaron. He wouldn’t have just left. Not like that.
She scrolled through her contacts to find the one Aaron had given her when she’d first moved in. There might be times when she needed to get ahold of him and wasn’t able to, and so he wanted her to have Cameron’s number. She held her breath as she pressed dial.
An unfamiliar voice answered almost immediately. “Cameron O’Clery.”
“Hi, Cameron. This is Becka. I’m, ah, Aaron’s... Whatever. I was wondering if you’ve seen him?” Please say he’s okay. I wouldn’t be able to stand it if something happened to him.
“Yeah, he’s in his office right now.”
She stared at the wall, her breath leaving her in a whoosh. It had been bad to think that Aaron might be hurt in some hospital in the city and unable to contact her. Knowing that he was fine, that he’d chosen not to call her or come home...
It was worse. So much worse.
“Thank you,” she said through numb lips and hung up.
Becka looked around the room that had ceased to be hers the second she’d ended up in Aaron’s bed a month ago. She’d built this fiction around the idea that Aaron was different from her father—that being with him was different from every relationship her mother had ever been in. From every relationship Becka had been in. She’d believed him when he said they were in this together, when he claimed she wasn’t alone. That declaration had only lasted as long as their honeymoon period had. The second things got rough—and they had gotten rough—he’d bailed.
He left.
She shoved to he
r feet and rushed to the closet. He wanted in the baby’s life? Fine. She might feel like he’d ripped her heart out of her chest and thrown it into a wood chipper, but she wasn’t completely delusional. He loved the baby as much as she did.
He just didn’t love her. If he really had, he wouldn’t have pulled a cheap stunt like this.
Maybe he’s clearing the way for me to move out without him having to deal with me again.
She threw her clothes onto the bed and had to lean over to wait for the lurching of her stomach to pass. A lie. It had all been a lie. Becka packed as fast as she could. She had things in his room, but she couldn’t bear the thought of crossing that threshold and being assaulted by all the good memories they’d made there.
All that mattered was getting the hell out. She could go back to her apartment. The thought brought her up short. Just because he obviously didn’t want anything to do with her didn’t mean he’d back down from his ridiculous condition of her not living in that apartment. He couldn’t have it both ways.
Unless he calls my bluff and hauls me back here to live in the spare room and then we have to see each other on a daily basis while he holds himself apart.
No. She couldn’t do it. The pain in her chest was so sharp, she could barely breathe past it now. Seeing him and trying to function as if she wasn’t emotionally bleeding out at his feet? She’d rather actually bleed out.
Becka fumbled for her phone and dialed. Allie answered almost immediately. “Hey, girl. What’s up?”
“Are you home?” Her voice cracked in the middle of the sentence.
Instantly, all happiness was gone from Allie’s tone. “I can be there in fifteen. Is everything okay? Is it the baby?”
The baby. She pressed her hand to her stomach. The doctor said the baby was fine, but this level of stress had to be releasing all sorts of crazy hormones that couldn’t be good. She took a slow breath and tried to calm her racing heart. “It’s nothing like that. I just... Remember when you offered to let me crash at your place? Does that still stand?”
“Of course.” Allie, bless her soul, didn’t hesitate. “Meet you there?”
“Yeah, I’m getting in a cab in two minutes.” She’d have to offer an explanation, but at least her friend was willing to wait until they were face-to-face.
It took Becka forty minutes to cab it to the new apartment Roman and Allie had bought together last year. They’d compromised on location, so it was roughly an equal distance between her gym and his office. Allie buzzed her up, and she walked into an apartment smelling of peanut butter cookies.
It was too much. She dropped her bag on the floor and the burning in her eyes got the best of her. This apartment practically reeked of love and happiness from Roman and Allie living here. It was there in the little details—the table next to the door with a key bowl and a little notepad where they wrote notes to each other; the framed picture of them just down the hall, staring at each other with such love in their eyes that it made Becka want to cry. She could have had that. She almost did have that.
No longer.
She wrapped her arms around herself as Allie poked her head out of the doorway leading to the kitchen. Her friend took one look at her, and her expression fell. “Oh, honey. What did he do?” She rushed to Becka and pulled her into a hug. It was a good hug.
She clung to Allie. “Why do you assume he did something and not me?”
“Because that’s not guilt on your face. That’s heartbreak.” She rubbed soothing circles on Becka’s back. “And I talked to you two days ago, and you were all giddy and very much in love.”
Becka blinked. “I’m not...” But there was no point in hiding from the truth anymore. Only love could feel like a spiked arrow through her chest, digging in deeper with each heartbeat that dragged her into a future that didn’t have Aaron in it. “Shit, I love him.”
“I know.” Allie huffed out a laugh. “Come sit down. I grabbed the cookie dough and some cranberry juice on the way here. Eat your sorrows and we’ll see if I need to go key Aaron’s car by the end of this conversation.”
Becka gave her a look. “While that might be satisfying, that’s also a little criminal.”
“Worth it.” Allie ushered her into a chair at the small nook table and placed a plate of cookies and a glass of cranberry juice in front of her. “Now, spill.”
And she did. Every little detail of the nightmarish doctor’s appointment and the ensuing marriage proposal that resulted in the fight that broke them. She broke the cookie she hadn’t managed to take a bite of and set it back on the table. “He left, Allie. I overreacted maybe—probably—but he just...walked out. And didn’t come back.”
“Which triggered every single issue you have.” Allie reached over and covered her hand with her own. “Why don’t you plan on staying here at least a couple days? Roman adores you, and it’d be nice to spend some more time with you.”
She was too devastated to make a swinger joke, which more than anything told her just how screwed up this situation was. She tried for a smile. “Thanks.”
“If you don’t want to see Aaron while you’re here, you don’t have to. We’ll keep him away until you’re ready to deal with him.”
The burning in her throat got worse, but she managed to whisper. “I don’t think that’s going to be a problem, Allie. He made his choice. Now I just have to learn to live with it.”
“Fuck that.”
She jerked back. “What?”
“If you’re done with him, that’s fine. I know you were kind of cagey about living with him in the first place.” Allie narrowed her eyes. “But if you’re retreating because you’re scared of getting hurt or rejected... Fuck that, Becka. Sometimes you have to be the one to take the lead and fight for what you want.” She held up her hand. “Not today. Not even tomorrow. But when the smoke clears and you can think again, you need to decide what you want. If that’s to keep going without him, then fine. If what you want is Aaron, then you need to fight for him.”
“Not today,” she said.
“Not today,” Allie agreed. She came around the table and gave her another hug. “Roman’s going to be working late, so why don’t we order in and watch a movie? Something mindless and no pressure.”
“That sounds good.” Her voice was thick with unshed tears. “What did I do to deserve such a great best friend?”
“Takes one to know one.” Allie tugged her to her feet, grabbed the plate of cookies and nudged her out of the kitchen and into the living room. “Besides, I seem to remember someone dragging me to a tropical island paradise not too long ago, and look how that turned out.”
She’d met the love of her life there.
Becka managed a smile. “Someone should make that someone more cookies.”
“On it!”
She settled into the couch and grabbed a throw blanket to wrap around her. While she waited for Allie, she replayed her friend’s words through her head.
Fight for him.
The very thought was laughable. How could she fight a losing battle? Aaron had made his choice. Not only had he left, but he’d stayed gone and iced her out. She couldn’t fight if there was no one there to fight with.
Becka swallowed hard. It was too soon to think about it. She could barely draw a breath without pain lancing her chest, and all she wanted to do was curl up with this plate of cookies under a blanket and cry for the next twelve hours. After that?
After that, she’d figure out what she was going to do.
* * *
Aaron stared at his computer screen, the letters blurring together the same way they had for the last thirty-odd hours. He couldn’t focus, too distracted by replaying his fight with Becka over and over again. Her outright refusal to talk about the future and willingness to stick her head in the sand when it came to every single future subject still made him see red. But beneath the sur
face-level anger was a fear he didn’t know how to deal with.
She didn’t want him.
Or, rather, she wanted to cling to her walls and keep him at a distance more than she wanted to actually be with him.
A knock on his office door brought his head up. Aaron minimized the screen and sat back. “Yeah?”
Cameron walked in and dropped into the chair on the other side of his desk. “Think it’s about time we had a talk.”
“Did we lose another client?” He couldn’t even work up the energy to be pissed about it. Becka’s solution for bringing his sister in to work as a junior consultant was still hanging in the wind. He had been too twisted up inside over Becka to worry about work, which was ironic, because he’d been at the office since their fight.
His partner laced his fingers behind his head and stared hard at him. “Doesn’t sound like you’d care if we did.”
He didn’t in that moment, but he would. Aaron straightened in his seat and tried to focus. “I can get them back, whoever they were.”
“Probably, but there’s no crisis to deal with.” Cameron raised a single eyebrow. “Except the one I’m looking at right now. What the fuck is going on with you and your woman? You’re walking around here like a zombie, and judging from the state of the couch over there, you slept here last night.”
He glanced at the couch, guilt flaring. The thought of going back to his penthouse and fighting with Becka more, of having her layer rejection upon rejection over him had been...too much. Cowardly didn’t begin to cover camping out here for the night, but he wasn’t ready to be done and he hadn’t figured out a plan to keep it from happening. He would figure it out if he could just think. “You have a point. Get to it.”
“My point is that you’re fucking it up. I don’t do relationships and even I can see that.” Cameron shook his head. “She called earlier and sounded just as messed up as you do. Go home. Fix your shit. Don’t come back to the office until you have it taken care of.”