Page 39 of Let Me Love You
“He isn't—"
"You don't know!" I yell. "You don't know whether or not it's true. If he is or isn't yours. And denying it or pretending he doesn't exist isn't going to get you anywhere, Colt."
"But at what cost, Sunshine?" He rushes toward me and grabs my arms as if he doesn't want to let me go. As if he wants to shake some sense into me. As if he's terrified I'll leave. “If I go down this road, what will it cost me?" he rasps. "Because so help me, if I lose you because of this…”
"It isn't a rumor, is it?" I whisper.
And the haunted look in his eyes? It tells me more than words or empty promises ever could.
A loud knock on the door rattles my bones. Colt hangs his head, but he doesn’t move to answer it.
“Go,” I whisper.
“They’ll go away.”
I pull away from his grasp and rest my head against the bed frame. “Answer it, Colt.”
Even though it kills him, he lets me go and heads to the front door. Low words are exchanged, but I’m too numb to pay attention.
When Colt returns, he holds a small stack of white papers limply in his grasp.
He looks so defeated. So broken. So drained and exhausted.
It kills me.
Seeing him like this. Wanting to make him feel better when I currently feel like my world is being cut apart while knowing he’s the one with the scissors, snipping away at everything I love and care about.
“Ash.” He says my name like a prayer. A plea.
My bottom lip quivers, but I suck it into my mouth and bite hard. “Who was it?”
As if the papers weigh a thousand pounds, he drops them onto the mattress, and I watch them fall, barely making a dent in the white comforter.
“It’s a subpoena,” he murmurs.
“For a paternity test?”
He collapses onto the edge of the bed and rests his head in his hands. “Yeah.”
I hate how defeated he still looks. How battered and broken.
“How long have you known?” I ask. “About the baby.”
“Been hearing rumors since last winter,” he rasps. “But I didn’t think it was possible. We used protection. And after I left, she was in the process of a divorce. I thought her ex was trying to stir up shit so he could get out of paying child support for their kid. I didn’t think…” He looks up at me, his dark eyes rimmed with red. “I didn’t think I could’ve fucked up this much. My life. My future.” He turns to me, his lower lip trembling. “Ourfuture. Tell me how to fix this. Tell me we’re okay.”
I want to. I want to tell him we’re okay. I want to tell him we’ll get through this together. I want to tell him he’s going to be a great dad, and I love him now more than ever. But I can’t. I can’t say any of those things. Because he lied to me. He tried to keep this from me. He tried to hide this from me.
And if he’s hiding this, what else is he hiding?
I thought I knew everything. I thought he knew he could tell me anything. But is this only the tip of the iceberg, or is this it? Is this everything? I shove my hands through my hair, tugging on the roots as the last of my fight seeps out of me.
“Ash,” he starts.
“I need a minute.”
“All right.” He pauses. “Take a shower. I didn’t have time to pick up your bagel, but I’ll make you some breakfast—”
“No, I need alongminute,” I clarify. My voice cracks despite how sweet he is, even right now. “A day or two. I need some time to wrap my head around this and what it means. What I should do. What you should do.”