It's a Fugly Life (Fugly #2)(11)

I took a breath. “It’s exactly what I told you last night. We’re bad for each other.”

“I happen to disagree. You helped me when no one else could. And I helped you see your true potential. We’re not simply good for each other, we’re perfect. And we need each other.”

“What you need is a woman who will never doubt you and be there to stroke your massive ego.”

“No. You’re wrong again. I need someone who tells it like it is. You.”

I placed my hands on my waist and shook my head at my running shoes. He was making this so hard. “I’m f*cked up, Max. And will always doubt you love me because despite my improved looks, I still feel like that girl who stood in your office eight months ago, asking for a job, but all you saw was her face—a face that revolted you.”

Max’s jaw tightened. My words clearly angered him.

I went on, “And can you honestly tell me you won’t relapse? Or that if we did get married that you wouldn’t repeat your mother’s mistakes? What if we had kids? Did you think about that? Because chances are, any child of mine will not come out looking like a beauty queen.” It was a harsh thing to say. I knew that. Just like I knew any child of mine would be absolutely beautiful to me and insanely loved. But Max needed to understand that our future didn’t look promising. “Max, can you honestly say you wouldn’t force our child to have a nose job at thirteen or punish it for being imperfect.” It was what his mother had done to him.

He shook his head from side to side. “I would never…” But I heard doubt in his voice. Or maybe it was fear.

“I can’t risk it,” I said. “I can’t risk loving you and then having a family simply to see if maybe, maybe you’ll love your son or daughter like my parents loved me.” And I certainly couldn’t risk opening my heart to him again. The pain of our breakup still made me feel sick when I thought about it.

Max looked down at the sand. He understood my point. He could say that he loved me all day long, but he could not guarantee that he’d always be there for me and our children like we deserved. Simply put, the depths of his f*ckedupness were unknown.

I waited for him to respond, but he looked away. His brow beaded with fresh sweat.

Christ. See, I’m right. Whatever images or thoughts were going through his head freaked him the hell out. Maybe he’d imagined holding an ugly baby.

His head abruptly snapped up. “No. I’m not letting you throw us away based on what-ifs. I do know, Lily. I know who I am. I know the kind of man I am. And I know that I would never abandon you. I’d stick by my children, too, regardless of my struggles.”

And there it was. The point.

I grabbed his arm and squeezed gently. “Listen to yourself. Having a life with me shouldn’t be a struggle. It shouldn’t be an act of loyalty or duty or a form of torture. It should be the one thing that makes you hop out of bed in the morning with a giant smile. I can’t give you that. And I could never be happy knowing that maybe on the inside, you don’t love me or them like they deserve.” It was so surreal having a conversation about children who didn’t exist yet. Especially, because in my heart, I felt like I was letting real people go, because I was letting him go.

Max’s dark brows furrowed, his lips flattened, and his jaw muscles ticked. He did not like being told no, but he definitely didn’t like hearing that I didn’t have faith in him as a future father.

“I’m sorry, Max. But you wanted the truth, and now you have it. We’re not good for each other.” I still had a lot of healing and growing to do to accept myself, but being with Max wouldn’t allow it. I’d always be focusing on him and his phobia, wondering and worrying and doubting him or doubting us. Not healthy. It had taken these past six months to realize it, but I saw that now.

Max blew out a long breath and crossed his arms over his chest. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but maybe you’re right. I will struggle. I will fight. But I’ve yet to fail at anything. And I know you will never find a man willing to work harder to make you happy. But you? You’ve given up. Not simply on your career, but on your life. So you don’t believe we could work? All right. There’s nothing I can do about it. But trust me, Lily. I know the man. He’s not the one for you.”

I stared up at Max. Okay, he knows something. He has to. There was too much conviction in his voice. “Why do you keep saying that?”

Max scratched his chin and looked away.

“Max,” I urged him.

He shook his head. “Some things are better left alone.”

Now it was my turn to shake my head. “You can’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Ask for complete honesty from me and not reciprocate.”

“I’m Maxwell Cole. I can do anything I like.”

I tilted my head. “You think this is funny?”

“No. I think you need to trust me, and if history has taught you anything, it should be that.”

Low blow.

“Max, please. Tell me why you think Patricio and I won’t work.”

“Besides the fact that he’s not me and will never understand you like I do?”

I rolled my eyes. “Just tell me.”

Max grumbled under his breath. “Why don’t you ask him? He is going to be your fiancé. Perhaps the honesty should begin there.”