Something she has done countless times before, especially in high school. I’d tinker around for hours on the Charger, and she’d sit up on the counter with a Diet Coke, passing me tools while yakking my ear off about anything and everything.

The tug of longing that memory evokes only pisses me off more, but not enough to let her go. At least not yet.

“Fine. Make it quick.” I return to the car I was working on, feeling her presence lingering behind me as she follows.

Bear remains faithfully by her side, showing exactly where his loyalty lies.

Traitor. He’s my damn dog.

Picking up my wrench, I resume my task, the sound of it filling the tense silence.

“I guess it’s safe to assume you’re pretty upset with me,” she starts, leaning against the workstation.

Crank. Crank.

“I don’t blame you,” she continues softly.

Crank. Crank.

“I reacted badly.”

I grunt at the understatement. “A bad reaction? Is that what we’re calling it?”

My bitterness hangs in a moment of silence.

“Yes, because that’s what it was,” she counters, determination slipping into her voice. “I wasn’t in a great place when I came here, and I let my emotions get the best of me. I’m sorry.”

I ignore the apology, my grip on the wrench tightening with every turn. “A bad reaction is when you eat something that doesn’t quite sit right.”

Crank. Crank.

“Or when your body breaks out in hives from taking the wrong medication.”

Crank. Crank.

“Or—”

“Or how you reacted when I told you I wanted to have a baby?” she interjects, cutting me off. “I think you called it a ‘knee-jerk reaction’.”

A bitter laugh escapes me, my head shaking in disbelief that she thinks this is even close to the same thing.

“I didn’t come here to point fingers, Gunnar,” she says, her voice starting to tremble, “but let’s not forget you aren’t completely innocent in all this either. It wasn’t exactly easy for me to walk in on what I did, and while you didn’t ask for it, that doesn’t make it hurt any less. So maybe you can give me a little grace like I did you.”

My composure fractures, spinning me around like a violent tornado until we’re face to face. “This isn’t even remotely the same fucking thing, and you damn well know it!”

Bear jumps in front of her, barking at me in warning, but it doesn’t deter either of us, least of all her.

“How?” she challenges. “How is this any different?”

“Because I didn’t fucking leave you!” My roar reverberates through the garage, carrying the weight of her betrayal. “I didn’t break my promise to you. You broke yours. You swore you’d never leave me and that’s exactly what you did.”

The impact of my words hits her like a physical blow, sending her reeling back. Realization quickly dawns on every feature of her face, and it leaves me feeling vulnerable and exposed.

“Fuck!” I hurl my wrench across the shop, the sharp clang of metal upon metal shattering the silence.

She doesn’t even flinch. Tears form in her eyes, mixing with pity.

I turn my back on her, bracing my hands on the steel counter as I struggle to control the emotions battling inside me.

“Gunnar,” my name falls past her lips on a broken whisper, the sound filled with sorrow and regret. “I didn’t leave you. I mean, I did, but … not in that way. Never in that way.” Her hand moves to my shoulder, the touch an accelerant to the fire raging in my chest.

“Just forget it.” I shove away from her, desperate for escape.

“No, I won’t forget it.” Determination and desperation collide as she throws herself in front of me, blocking my path. “Listen to me, please.” Her fingers clutch my shirt as tears helplessly tumble down her cheeks. “I shouldn’t have left like that. I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry. So sorry,” she cries. “I just needed time to get my emotions under control. That night, it felt like everything around me was falling apart. I was disappointed about not being pregnant, thinking I was letting us both down, and then seeing you with her …”

Her eyes close, face contorting with devastation.

“I wasn’t naive enough to think you’d never been with anyone else,” she whispers, her voice fragile and broken, “but I was content to remain blissfully unaware. Then, I saw her.” Her breath catches, the pain in her eyes reflecting the shattered state of her heart. “She’s everything I’m not, and it hurt, Gunnar. It hurt so much. I lost it. I’m sorry. So sor—” those words fall victim to the devastation consuming her as she loses her breath, and it slices through my every defense.

“Jesus, Ellie.” I pull her against me, unable to hold back any longer. “Breathe, baby. It’s okay.”

My arms envelop her trembling body as she cries against my chest, her pain resonating through me like an earthquake. Every word she just spoke shakes me to my core, forcing me to reveal the one secret I’ve kept from her since we were kids.

“She’s nothing like you for a reason, Elle,” I choke out, bringing my lips to her ear. “She pales in comparison, just like every other woman out there, because I’ve been in love with you since I kissed you on that fucking mountain when I was nine years old.”

She stills in my arms, her body turning rigid before she lifts her grief-stricken face from my chest. “What did you just say?”

Swallowing hard, I push past the vulnerability lodged in my throat. “That I’ve loved you since the night we kissed at Heart Mountain.”

Disbelief flickers in her sad eyes. “But you said—”

“I know what I said,” I grit, my jaw locked tight. “And I lied. I lied about everything because I couldn’t make sense of it. But that night, Elle, everything changed for me. Life changed for me. Every breath felt different. Every step had a new purpose. Every thought and decision I made … they were all for you.”

The truth bleeds through every word as I lay the most guarded piece of me on the line.

“I’m sorry it took the thought of you moving on without me to make me realize it, but I get it now, and I’ll never forget it. I will love you until the day I die because it’s all I’ve ever done.”

The softest smile flutters across her lips, breaking through the sadness. “I have something to tell you too,” she whispers, dropping a bombshell of her own. “I’m pregnant.”

Silence drops like an avalanche, anchoring me in place.

“Pregnant?” I repeat, struggling to grasp those words.

She nods, her expression softening behind the tears. “I took three tests before I came here, and they were all positive,” she reveals. “I didn’t get my period like I thought. It’s spotting and apparently can be normal, at least from what I’ve read. I’ll see my doctor this week to be sure, but … looks like we’re going to have a baby after all.”

The weight of that revelation steals the breath from my lungs. Every emotion I thought I’d feel in this moment is overshadowed, rendering every word meaningless.

“Are you happy?” she whispers, mistaking my silence.