Warrior (First to Fight #1)(66)
“Livvie not now.” His face is hard and closed-off, and it sparks to life the dregs of anger that have been building since this whole mess started.
“No!” I yell. “I’ve had enough of wondering what’s going on inside that head of yours. And bullshit that it doesn’t have to do with Cole. You wouldn’t be asking Logan to check in on someone right now if it didn’t have to do with Cole.”
“I’m telling you right now, Livvie, this isn’t something I want to discuss, so drop it.”
“After what we just went through, what we’ve been building, I think you owe it to me to explain. Let me in, something.”
He doesn’t answer; his facial expression doesn’t even change. My sinuses begin to tickle, but I force myself not to cry—again—even though I want to. I stand in front of him, feeling like I’m wide open, baring my soul for him, but he doesn’t give me anything. And that hurts so much worse.
His expression hardens further. “I told you what I could give you a long time ago, Liv,” he says, his voice rough. “I told you what I was capable of. Either way, this business,” he gestures with a finger in a circle, “has nothing to do with you.”
He gives me one last hard look then brushes past me.
I wake later that night to an empty bed. I’d gotten so used to Ben’s warmth that the cool sheets beside me make me frown. Sliding from underneath the comforter, I grab my robe from the rocking chair, slipping it on as I take the stairs down to the first floor. Hank barks outside, and the sound leads me to the back porch where I find Ben. I stop in the doorway, the cool night air swirling around my bare legs.
Ben is sitting with his head cradled in his hands, wearing a pair of sweats sans his customary black T-shirt. Normally, the sight of his bare body would send my hormones into overdrive, but this feels wrong. This feels like the Ben from the night of the break-in, the one who has a penchant for leaving. A hollow feeling takes up residence in my stomach.
“Ben?” I pause in the doorway, unsure if I want to even have this conversation. Maybe it would be better all-around if I were to just turn right back around and pull the covers over my head like a child who's afraid of the dark.
He turns to look at me, his face pale in the yellow cast from the porch light. He clears his throat. “I’ve been thinking… Maybe this wasn’t a good idea.”
My heart stops. “What wasn’t a good idea?”
“Us,” he says. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to keep seeing each other. I still want to be a part of Cole’s life, be his father… but, aside from that, I think it would be best if we were just friends.” He licks his lips and looks at me as though I should happily agree with his statement and go on my merry way.
“After—” My voice breaks, so I clear my throat and lick my lips before I continue. “I told you after you came back that we shouldn’t pursue any kind of romantic relationship.” My voice raises a few octaves. “You were the one who convinced me it would be okay, that this would work. You were the one who came on to me. You—you know what? I’d like you to leave now.”
We finally have our son back safe and sound and he’s leaving me—us—again?
I turn to the kitchen and stalk back upstairs, paying no mind to the awful racket I’m making. My temper reaches a boiling point when I see his clothes strewn all over my room. I lose a growl at the sight and stalk to my closet where his giant duffle bags have taken up residence.
I hear him enter the room, but I ignore that. Instead, I grab his duffle bags and toss them on the bed. I go to my dresser and open each of the drawers he’s taken over, tossing his things on the bed. Dresser finished, I do the same with the toiletries in the bathroom and the clothes hanging up in my closet.
Nearly two years, I think. Two years of waiting on this man and his wavering sense of duty and complete inability to commit to anything. I am so done with all of it.
I had thought before about whether or not there was a time limit on love. No, I realize, there’s not, but there sure as hell is a limit on the amount of shit one person is willing to take to be with another. And I have had more than my fill. In fact, I’m full to bursting.
Ben watches solemnly and silently from the doorway as I throw a fit of epic proportions. If I had just a hair of Walker blood in me, I would have done the outrageous thing and thrown all of his crap out of the window. Instead, my motherly instincts force me to at least toss his things in his bags. When every last trace of him is gone, I drop each bag at his feet and give him my fiercest look.
“I have errands to run tomorrow. If you’d like to keep Cole while I do, I can drop him off at your parents or wherever else you need me to. Around noon, if that works for you, and I’ll pick him up tomorrow night around six.”
He only nods, and his lack of response and the fact that he can shut down so easily when my heart feels like it’s withering in my chest pisses me off even more.
I charge past him and back down the stairs. I can hear him behind me, lifting his bags and following. The sound of his steps down the stairs echo with finality.
I reach the front door and hold it open for him, but he stops walking and turns toward me. “I know I’m no good for you, Livvie. I told you that when this first started. The only thing I ever wanted to do for you was keep you safe and be there for you. I just realized that I can’t be the man you need, the man you deserve. It’s better that we let this go now before it’s too late. If it weren’t for me, he would have never been taken in the first place.”