Page 139 of Seal the Deal

I pull back again, my thumbs brushing away her tears. “I love you, Charlie,” I husk, trying to keep myself together. “But I can’t be the only one in this. I need you to want it, too. I need to… I need to go.”

Her face crumples, gutting me. “You’re leaving me?”

“I’m not breaking up with you,” I clarify quickly. “I promise you. I just need time to cool down. You’re still mine, got it?”

Hands loosen on my shirt, and I see the devastation in her eyes. It’s fear, deep and raw. The fear of losing everything. Of losing me.

And fuck, it’s nearly enough to break me.

Her throat works as she swallows. “I’m sorry,” she whispers, barely getting the words out.

I press my lips to hers, tasting the salt of her tears. I kiss her like I’m trying to brand something into her, to make sure she knows I'm still here. That I still love her.

When I pull back, my own throat burns, my own voice cracking at the edges. “I’ve told you from the beginning, I’mall in. And when I get back, I need to know that you are, too. Or this won’t work.”

Her tears fall faster, her body shaking, but I force myself to step back, heart in tatters. I can’t give her the comfort she needs right now—I need her to understand what’s at stake.

I need to know she loves this enough to fight for it.

“I love you.” My voice is rough, scraping against the wreckage of this moment. "So fucking much.”

Then I turn and walk toward the door, every step killing me, every part of me screaming to stay.

***

I’ve been staring at the ceiling for hours, trying to calm the fuck down. Night’s fading into morning, but all I see is her face when she said going back to New Zealand might be easier.

Easier.Like this isn’t worth fighting for.

I glance at my keys on my dresser. She gave me a key weeks ago. That key means something.Wemean something.

I could’ve grabbed that key and gone back to her hours ago, crawled into bed, wrapped her in my arms, and told her it’s going to be okay. But I didn’t. Not after the way we left things. We both need space to breathe.

From the second we reconnected, something clicked into place, like I’d found what was missing in my life. And now, hearing her suggest leaving? Packing up the kids andgoing?

It hurts. Hell, itfucking kills me.

I thought we were solid. That she was in this as much as I am. And now I’m not sure.

But there’s a part of me that gets it.Fuck, I get it. I don’t have kids. I’ve never had to be terrified of losing them. But I’ve lost people. I know what it’s like to stand on the edge of something good, only for it to be ripped away.

I close my eyes, trying to reel it all in, but my mind spins. Alex, thatasshole. He knows exactly how to get in her head. Knows how to make her question everything, and it’s working.

But I remember her face as I left. How her voice cracked when she admitted she was scared. She’s not walking away because shewantsto. She’s walking away because she’s scared. And hell, deep down I’m scared, too.

I bet she’s lying in bed right now, thinking it’s all falling apart. But it’s not. She’s my family. The only family I want. And there’s no way I’m letting Alex, or fear, or anything else take them away from me.

The sun’s starting to creep up, and it’s taking everything in me not to drive back to her.

I grab my phone, the time glaring up at me, thumb hovering over her name. There’s enough time to talk before I head to the airport. So I hit call before I can second-guess myself.

It rings. Once. Twice. My gut twists. Finally, a click on the other end, but she doesn’t say anything. I can hear her breathing—shallow, ragged.

“Hey,” I say softly, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Hey,” she whispers, sounding wrecked.Shit.My chest clenches and I run a hand over my face, wishing I could be there to hold her.

Silence stretches between us, heavy and raw.

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