I rip my gaze away from the ultrasound image to see her face. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’m telling you because it’s the right thing to do. But I’m not asking anything of you. I wouldn’t do that.”
“You think I’d just walk away from my child?”
“Children.” She points to two spots on the image. One gray lima bean and the other.
My breath is trapped in my lungs, and I have to close my eyes to remember how to breathe. “Children?” When I open my eyes again, she’s staring at me, trying to read my expression.
Finally, she nods. “Twins.”
My stomach feels like it’s stuck in an endless free fall as I study the little, colorless splotches in the moonlight. Twins. My twins.
“Does Max know?”
“Yes.”
“He knows they’re mine?”
A breeze picks up off the river, and a wispy lock of hair blows across her face. “Yes.”
“When are you getting married? Wasn’t that supposed to be soon?”
She shakes her head. “We called off the wedding. Postponed it indefinitely. I can’t move forward with anything like that until after the babies are born. Right now, they’re my only priority.”
“And then?”
She shrugs. “We’re engaged. I plan to marry him eventually. Just not yet.”
“Do you expect me to just walk away? Let you two create your happy little family with my children?” Hanna is one of three people in the world who could understand how much that hurts me. Yet here we are. Here I am—on the outside again.
“I don’t know what to expect from you. I just know the choice needs to be yours, and that’s why I’m telling you.”
My whole body tenses and an ugly laugh slips from my lips. “My choice? What if my choice is to be in their lives every day? What if my choice is to have them in my house? What if I want to be a real father and not just someone they visit from time to time? Are you giving me that choice?”
“You are their father, and I won’t keep them from you. But I am their mother. If you fight me for custody”—she lifts her eyes to mine and I see her determination—“I will fight back just as hard. You will lose.”
“What if I don’t just fight for my kids?” I ask. Vivian says I keep walls around my heart, but I would take a sledgehammer to those walls for Hanna. I would tear them down and stand completely exposed, all to get closer to her. “What if I fight for their mother too?”
WILL I ever be able to look at Nate and not feel this painful tugging in my heart?
“Didn’t you already have your chance?” My fingernails bite into my palms as I force my hands to stay at my sides.
“I couldn’t fight for you before.”
I draw in a breath, and he opens his eyes to meet mine. The question I can’t ask pulses in the air between us. Why not?
“What if I won, Hanna? What if I fought for you and I won? I’m not the prize here. You are.” He turns then, reaches out, and his fingers stroke the side of my cheek. My eyes float closed because it’s too much—having him here when he’s supposed to be dead, having him touch me when I’m supposed to let him go. “It would be different if you hadn’t chosen him, if you weren’t in love with him.” His fingers take my chin and tilt it up until I open my eyes and look into his. “It would be different if I didn’t know that you’re too damn good for me. I came here, and you had made your choice and forgotten me. I knew I didn’t deserve your heart, and I didn’t want to risk breaking it.”
I step back until his hand falls away from my face. “Too late.”
“That’s why you chose him? Because I didn’t fight for you? Come to LA with me. Be with me. I will fight for you every day.”
“Would you even say that if you didn’t know about the pregnancy?” My voice is cold even to my own ears. Instinctively, my hand splays over my stomach, where my babies grow. According to all the pregnancy websites, today my little ones are no bigger than the size of a kidney bean. Not much. Yet…everything.
“I’m supposed to be dead.” He squeezes my hand when I try to pull away. “As soon as we arrived in Afghanistan, I realized I couldn’t do the tour. I was a mess. I needed some time alone, so I went to India to join Janelle and left my agent behind with the other musicians…” He closes his eyes. “I should have been on that helicopter and I should be dead right now, and the only reason I’m alive is because I’m so f**king in love with you that I couldn’t face my tour. Don’t you see? You save me. Over and over again.”
I lick my lips and taste the salt of my tears. Maybe I’ll always love Nate, and maybe that love for Nate will destroy what I have with Max. But this isn’t about Max. This isn’t as simple as choosing between two men. I’m not willing to move to LA, and I won’t ask him to leave Collin to be here. I love him enough to let him go.
I understand the difference now. I’m not walking away from him. I’m letting him go.
“I want to go to your next appointment,” he says. “I’m their father. I want to be part of this.”
“Okay.”
“But do me a favor. Don’t bring him with you.”
I take a breath. “If I marry him, he’ll be helping me raise them, regardless of how you feel about that.”
“I’m telling you because it’s the right thing to do. But I’m not asking anything of you. I wouldn’t do that.”
“You think I’d just walk away from my child?”
“Children.” She points to two spots on the image. One gray lima bean and the other.
My breath is trapped in my lungs, and I have to close my eyes to remember how to breathe. “Children?” When I open my eyes again, she’s staring at me, trying to read my expression.
Finally, she nods. “Twins.”
My stomach feels like it’s stuck in an endless free fall as I study the little, colorless splotches in the moonlight. Twins. My twins.
“Does Max know?”
“Yes.”
“He knows they’re mine?”
A breeze picks up off the river, and a wispy lock of hair blows across her face. “Yes.”
“When are you getting married? Wasn’t that supposed to be soon?”
She shakes her head. “We called off the wedding. Postponed it indefinitely. I can’t move forward with anything like that until after the babies are born. Right now, they’re my only priority.”
“And then?”
She shrugs. “We’re engaged. I plan to marry him eventually. Just not yet.”
“Do you expect me to just walk away? Let you two create your happy little family with my children?” Hanna is one of three people in the world who could understand how much that hurts me. Yet here we are. Here I am—on the outside again.
“I don’t know what to expect from you. I just know the choice needs to be yours, and that’s why I’m telling you.”
My whole body tenses and an ugly laugh slips from my lips. “My choice? What if my choice is to be in their lives every day? What if my choice is to have them in my house? What if I want to be a real father and not just someone they visit from time to time? Are you giving me that choice?”
“You are their father, and I won’t keep them from you. But I am their mother. If you fight me for custody”—she lifts her eyes to mine and I see her determination—“I will fight back just as hard. You will lose.”
“What if I don’t just fight for my kids?” I ask. Vivian says I keep walls around my heart, but I would take a sledgehammer to those walls for Hanna. I would tear them down and stand completely exposed, all to get closer to her. “What if I fight for their mother too?”
WILL I ever be able to look at Nate and not feel this painful tugging in my heart?
“Didn’t you already have your chance?” My fingernails bite into my palms as I force my hands to stay at my sides.
“I couldn’t fight for you before.”
I draw in a breath, and he opens his eyes to meet mine. The question I can’t ask pulses in the air between us. Why not?
“What if I won, Hanna? What if I fought for you and I won? I’m not the prize here. You are.” He turns then, reaches out, and his fingers stroke the side of my cheek. My eyes float closed because it’s too much—having him here when he’s supposed to be dead, having him touch me when I’m supposed to let him go. “It would be different if you hadn’t chosen him, if you weren’t in love with him.” His fingers take my chin and tilt it up until I open my eyes and look into his. “It would be different if I didn’t know that you’re too damn good for me. I came here, and you had made your choice and forgotten me. I knew I didn’t deserve your heart, and I didn’t want to risk breaking it.”
I step back until his hand falls away from my face. “Too late.”
“That’s why you chose him? Because I didn’t fight for you? Come to LA with me. Be with me. I will fight for you every day.”
“Would you even say that if you didn’t know about the pregnancy?” My voice is cold even to my own ears. Instinctively, my hand splays over my stomach, where my babies grow. According to all the pregnancy websites, today my little ones are no bigger than the size of a kidney bean. Not much. Yet…everything.
“I’m supposed to be dead.” He squeezes my hand when I try to pull away. “As soon as we arrived in Afghanistan, I realized I couldn’t do the tour. I was a mess. I needed some time alone, so I went to India to join Janelle and left my agent behind with the other musicians…” He closes his eyes. “I should have been on that helicopter and I should be dead right now, and the only reason I’m alive is because I’m so f**king in love with you that I couldn’t face my tour. Don’t you see? You save me. Over and over again.”
I lick my lips and taste the salt of my tears. Maybe I’ll always love Nate, and maybe that love for Nate will destroy what I have with Max. But this isn’t about Max. This isn’t as simple as choosing between two men. I’m not willing to move to LA, and I won’t ask him to leave Collin to be here. I love him enough to let him go.
I understand the difference now. I’m not walking away from him. I’m letting him go.
“I want to go to your next appointment,” he says. “I’m their father. I want to be part of this.”
“Okay.”
“But do me a favor. Don’t bring him with you.”
I take a breath. “If I marry him, he’ll be helping me raise them, regardless of how you feel about that.”
