Page 41 of Tactical Lies

But he couldn’t force her to forgive him and want to be with him again.

Which meant he might have to accept the possibility that it was over.

Truly over.

Not the kind of in-between purgatory that, to him, their relationship had been languishing in these past twelve years. Part of him had always known he was going to go back to her at some point. All he had to do was manage his guilt and shame before he could face her again.

“You don’t have anything to say?” Cole asked. “Because you all had plenty to say a couple of weeks ago when my relationship with Susanna was just getting started.”

“That was different,” Connor protested.

“Why? Because I acted like the world’s worst jerk for three years with a bunch of completely unfounded accusations that I kept throwing at her because I wouldn't let go of the damage my ex caused?” Cole asked. “We all know that when it comes to jerkiness you're the one who treated their partner way worse than I ever did.”

Even though he knew that, accepted it, Connor still flinched at the words.

“We know you left her, Connor,” Jake reminded him. “We all know what went down, you never lied about it, never hid it from us.”

That was true.

His worst actions and words had never been ones he kept to himself.

After driving around for hours that night before realizing he could absolutely support the woman he loved and raise her rapist’s baby with her if that was what she chose to do, he’d returned to their apartment to find her gone. When calling her family confirmed Becca was with them but that she refused to have any contact with him, he’d gone right to his own family.

At the time, they’d been spread throughout the world. He’d been the only one to go to college, the others had all jumped right into military careers, which is what he’d done after losing Becca. But despite the physical distances between them, every one of his brothers and his baby sister had all been there for him. They’d called him out, expressed their disappointment, and told him that he had to go and fix things.

Advice he’d ignored.

And now it was too late.

“She told me the baby was mine,” he admitted. Saying those words out loud made them feel so much more real. He’d had a son, a little boy he never got to hold, never got to tell that he loved. Knowing Becca had been without him when she lost their child was a pain that lodged in his chest and he was pretty sure he could never dislodge.

Didn't deserve to dislodge it.

What he deserved was to suffer the same pain Becca must have suffered in those moments when she realized she was losing her baby for the rest of eternity.

“She lost it,” he added. The pain in his chest was too much, and he lifted a hand and pressed it above his heart as though that could ease it. But it couldn’t. Nothing could.

“I’m sorry, Connor,” Cooper said gently, reaching out to clasp his shoulder and squeezing it.

“That sucks, man,” Jax said. “I’m sorry you both lost your baby.”

“A boy,” he said softly. “A son. I walked away from her because I didn't think I could handle raising her rapist’s baby. I walked away for nothing. I walked away from the woman I love and our child.”

“That’s not true,” Jake told him.

“Pretty sure it is.”

“You walked away because you never took a breath that whole four months. You kept everything in, refused to allow yourself a single feeling or emotion because you were so focused on Becca,” Jake said.

“She’d been raped. She had physical injuries and her foot amputated because the doctors couldn’t save it. Of course my focus was on her, she needed me. Was I supposed to prioritize myself over her?” What was he supposed to do? Leave her alone and go and have his own little pity party?

“No, that’s not what you were supposed to do,” Jake said in a voice that sounded exactly like Cade’s would have. Both Cade and Jake were a lot alike, both gruff, both intimidating, both told it like it was without holding back. “You were supposed to make sure you were taking care of yourself so you could keep taking care of Becca. You loved her, we all know that, she knew that. You were there for her one hundred percent. She needed you and you didn't shy away from giving her whatever she needed. But you didn't do the same for yourself. You bottled everything up when you could have spoken to me, Jax, Cade, Cooper, or Cole. Could have spoken to Cassandra. Could have let out the emotions that were eating you alive.”

It was easy to say in hindsight that he could have—should have—done exactly that. But, in that moment, all he’d been able to think about was Becca. He hadn't just come a distant second or even last, he hadn't even been in contention, nothing had. Just her.

“He’s right,” Cooper agreed. “You weren't taking care of yourself, and that was just the straw that broke the camel’s back. You realized you were wrong and went back.”

“Too late. I went back too late.”

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