She flinches as if I just struck her, but the blow is nothing compared to what I feel at the sight of tears forming in her eyes.
Shit.
She shakes her head. “Never mind. You don’t get it.” Swiping her bag off my desk, she heads for the door.
“What the hell did you think was going to happen, Elle?” I ask, following behind her. “That you would spring this shit on me, and I’d be all for it? Because if you did, then you really don’t know me after all these years.”
She spins back around and the tears that were glistening in her eyes now track down her cheeks, sucker-punching me right in the heart.
“No, I didn’t, but I thought you might consider it, and I figured if you didn’t then you would at least be happy for me. That you would support me because that’s what best friends do, but maybe you’re right and I don’t know you. Maybe I never did.”
Without another word, she opens the door and runs out, leaving the echo of her sobs in her wake.
“Fuck!” Slamming the door shut, I collapse into my chair, feeling the world crumbling around me, leaving me within its ruins.
Gunnar
Hours later, I sit in the grim silence of my office, paralyzed by a torrent of unwanted emotions. Too many to name, until one eventually overpowers them all …
Guilt.
It eats away at me as I stare at the potted arrangement on my desk. One that has no pink flowers in it because like usual, Ellie was thinking about someone else other than herself.
The absence of color mocks me, proving what an amazing person she is and what a piece of shit I am.
Bear’s soft whine penetrates my self-loathing. Looking over, I find him watching me, his disappointment evident. “I know. I fucked up.”
I still don’t understand how it got so out of hand. All I know is I felt too many emotions in that moment. Emotions I am not supposed to feel, especially when it comes to Ellie.
A light rap on the door pulls me from my thoughts just before Ryland enters. “All closed up for the night.”
I nod my thanks, feeling bad I left it for him to deal with, even if it was for the best.
Instead of leaving me to wallow in my own misery, he walks further inside and takes the chair across from me—the one Ellie sat in as we ate the food she brought, the one she smiled at me from as she wore my hat, which looks better on her than it does on me. The chair she always sits in when she comes to eat lunch with me because she doesn’t like to eat alone.
God, I am such an asshole.
“Talk to me, kid,” he probes gently. “What happened?”
I debate how much to tell him, knowing this is Ellie’s personal business, but I need to sort out all of these conflicting feelings I’m having, and if anyone can bring me some clarity it’s the man before me. A man who has been more of a parent to me than my own ever were in the short eight years I knew them. One who just happened to be at the same gas station where they left me. Instead of leaving me too, the former soldier took me home and gave me a life I would have never had if not for him.
For that reason alone, I spill my guts to him. “Ellie is going to have a baby,” I reveal, struggling to say the words out loud.
His brows shoot up in surprise. “A baby?” he repeats.
I nod.
“I didn’t realize she was seeing someone.”
I tense at the assumption, despite having the same thought earlier. “She isn’t.” My response is harsher than I intend for it to be.
His hands lift in surrender. “My bad.”
I shake my head, frustrated at myself for getting worked up again.
What the hell do I care if she’s seeing someone? I want her to be happy, I’ve always wanted that for her.
No one is good enough for her.
The little voice in my head makes a solid point.
“She plans to have a procedure and use a sperm donor,” I explain, still grappling with that knowledge.
“I see,” he says, as if he understands, but he doesn’t. Not at all. “And you don’t want her to do that.”
It’s a statement, not a question, but I find myself answering anyway. “No, I don’t.”
“Why not? Don’t you think she’d make a good mother?”
“Of course I do.”
Ellie will be the best mom—the kind every child deserves. The kind who wouldn’t abandon her child at a gas station because she decided she didn’t want them anymore.
“Then what’s the problem?” he asks, still not understanding.
“Well, for starters, she’s not ready.”
