Page 138 of All Too Well
It’s as though he’s punched a hole in my chest. “I never meant to hurt you. I couldn’t ...” I let out a shaky breath. “When you said it was a mistake, when you looked at me like I was the last thing in the world you wanted, I couldn’t handle it.”
“That wasn’t what happened.”
“In my eyes it was. I was young and stupid and embarrassed more than anything. In the beginning, it was self-preservation to stay away from you, because I didn’t know what to say or even if you wanted to talk to me. Then it became feeling stupid for staying away and cutting you off.”
When I say it aloud now, it all seems sofreaking stupid. I should’ve answered his calls or messages, but I didn’t think I could say anything to make the pain in my heart disappear. I never wanted us to be a mistake. I never even thought there would be a Lachlan and me, let alone have it happen that night, in that way.
“I was drunk, Ainsley.”
“I know that, which made it even worse for me.”
“Why?” he asks with a tinge of frustration in his voice.
I sigh, hating that we have to talk about this, but knowing it’s long overdue. “I wasn’t even sure if you’d remember it.”
“I remember every single second of that kiss, of how you felt in my arms, of your scent, your touch, your warmth.” He takes my hand in his. “Then you left.”
I hate myself for hurting him. I hate that I did exactly the same thing he has had happen to him repeatedly.
“I did,” I say softly. “I didn’t even think about anything else. I’m sorry.”
“Look, I know we’re not the same people. I can understand what happened, get past it, but I have a life here with Rose. She loves her home, her friends, and the life we’ve built here. I can’t make her give that up. Just the same as I can’t ask you to give your life up. It’s why I said we needed rules around this.”
Tears form and my heart is breaking into a million pieces. Yes, I knew this was going to be the outcome, but God, I hoped for something more.
“I would never ask you to leave here.”
“And you’re going to move? You’re going to walk away from your job?”
“I don’t know. I could. I would for you.”
He smiles and wipes away the tear that trickles down my face. “Oh, sweetheart, I wouldn’t let you. Loving you means wanting you to be happy, giving you more than you give up. I know all about letting go of dreams. I know what it feels like when you walk away, always looking over your shoulder.”
“You said you were happy that you left football.” I turn my face and wipe away another tear.
Maybe he didn’t say he was happy, but he didn’t regret it. I could do the same. I can write from anywhere. Even if I have to burn through my savings, at least I’d have Lachlan.
“I was never happy. I loved the game. I was good at the game. I could’ve made it in that league. I know it. When I walked away, I did it because I knew I had to for my daughter. It wasn’t because I was done with football. It still lives in me like a dull ache. It’s why I found Frisbee, which may sound ridiculous, but I’m on that field. No, I don’t have cleats on. No, I’m not lining up with a football in my hand, feeling the rush of the play that’s coming. I still touch the grass, though. I still line up with my team as we start a play. It’s all there, in a different way. So I don’t regret it, but I miss it. Every day. That doesn’t go away when you love something. I can’t watch you feel the same. Not for me. I’m a grown-ass man. I’m not a child who needs a choice to be made for them.”
I want to argue with him, but the finality in his tone tells me that he won’t be persuaded. I’ve spent most of my life wanting him, this, and now I’ve had a small sample and have to walk away.
This is a heartbreak that I will never recover from.
I stare down at our entwined hands, tears falling as the ensuing pain starts to bubble. It’s like knowing you’re going to be in a crash and bracing for impact.
“You don’t get to decide that for me. I’m not a child either.”
He sits up, rubbing his face before looking at me. “I do, though. Do you know why?” he asks but answers before I can. “Because I watched what happens to women who give up their dreams. I’ve lived through it. I’ve seen my mother go from this vibrant woman to a shell of a human.”
“I’m not your mother,” I remind him. “I’m not giving up a dream, I’m gaining one.”
“I’m not your dreams, sweetheart. I was there throughout your entire life as you talked about writing and telling people’s stories. I know what your dreams are, Ainsley, better than I know my own.”
But he is. He’s part of it. “So what? I give you up for ajob? Forsomething that is going to leave me broken anyway? What about what I want, Lachlan? What about the fact that I choose you, damn it!” I press my hand to his chest. “I choose you. I choose to walk away from a job that doesn’t fulfill me even a part of the way that these last few weeks have.”
He gets to his feet, grabbing for his pants. “You want this life, Ainsley? You want to be a fireman’s wife? Raising Rose, dealing with small-town meetings and carnivals? You’re going to be okay giving up the glamour of the city? What happens when the people you work with start covering national headlines? What about all the money, time, and energy you’ve put into becoming a reporter? Have you thought about all of that?”
He’s now dressed, and I’m still sitting on the blanket, naked. Never have I felt more exposed before.
