He challenges that response. “Why do you say that? She has a nice home, a thriving business, and most importantly, she has a huge heart. No one loves like Ellie does. Seems to me, she’s more than ready.”

My eyes narrow at how fucking logical he’s being about this.

“Maybe it’s you who isn’t ready,” he adds.

It’s on the tip of my tongue to deny it, but I don’t bother because he hit the nail on the head and we both know it.

“Maybe I’m not,” I finally admit, not only to him but also myself. “Maybe I don’t want her to have someone else’s baby, even if it is some nameless asshole.”

He cocks a brow. “Is that what’s bothering you about all this? The thought of her having another man’s child?”

It’s a question I have been asking myself all afternoon, one I can’t seem to find the answer to.

“Jesus, Ryland. I don’t know,” the confession escapes me on a heavy breath. “All I know is I’ve been feeling all sorts of shit today when it comes to Ellie, things I’ve never felt before, and it’s really fucking with my head.”

His demeanor never changes. He remains calm and poised, a complete contradiction to the turmoil storming inside me.

“Want to know what I think?”

I nod, desperate for any kind of guidance right now.

“I think these feelings aren’t new at all. I think you’re just finally being forced to acknowledge them.”

My brows furrow at the statement. “What do you mean?”

“Ellie has always been yours, even if it has only been as a friend. You’ve never had to share her with anyone because every decision she has ever made has included you. The two of you have revolved your entire lives around each other since the day you met. Which, in my opinion, is why she is having to consider motherhood the way she is.”

What he says is true. There has always been an unspoken commitment between us. It’s just the way it is. How it’s always been and how it’s always supposed to be … so why the hell does she have to change it now?

“Let me tell you a story,” he says, sinking deeper into his chair. “Back when I was in the Armed Forces, a few of us were sent to the U.S. to assist a group of young, highly trained Navy SEALs who were prepping for a mission in an area we’d worked the previous year. They were a good bunch of guys, and you’ve always reminded me of one of them.”

I find myself intrigued by that. Over the years, Ryland has shared a lot of wisdom and reflection with me, but his time in the military has always been a rare topic, something I never pushed and always respected.

“His name was Jaxson Reid, and he was a hell of a guy. Still is, though it’s been a few years since I heard from him,” he continues, his admiration unmistakable. “He was one of the best of his time. Even held the highest record of any Navy SEAL at BUD/S.”

Hearing all this, I can’t help but wonder how the hell I remind him of this guy because so far there are zero similarities.

“The night before they deployed, we all went out for drinks, and I ended up spotting a photo he kept in his wallet of this beautiful young woman. I asked him about her, figuring she was his wife or girlfriend, but turned out she was his best friend.”

Now we’re getting somewhere…

“As I listened to him talk about her, it was obvious his feelings ran a hell of a lot deeper. He eventually admitted as much but said he’d take it to his grave. Sadly, he almost did.”

Lead forms in the pit of my stomach at that last remark. “Why? What happened?”

His expression turns grave. “That summer, he and two men from his team were held captive and tortured.”

“Jesus,” shock radiates through that one word.

“It was a damn shame,” he agrees solemnly. “He spent almost a year in a rehabilitation center before he finally went back home. And guess where that was?”

“Where?” I ask.

“That best friend.”

The weight of that revelation hangs in a moment of silence.

He leans forward, eyes locking with mine. “You see, sometimes when a choice is taken from you, it can change your perspective. Make you realize what you’re willing to risk and what you aren’t. I guess the fear he had about loving this girl turned out to be far less scary than never getting the chance to find out.”

I swallow hard, the knowledge reflecting in his eyes hitting close to home.

“It can also make you realize what’s always been right in front of you,” he adds, his insinuation loud and clear. “Maybe that’s what’s happening to you with Ellie. Her taking this step without you is finally putting things into perspective.”

I think about that and wonder if he’s not right. There’s no denying Ellie is beautiful, I’ve always thought so, even when we were kids, but she’s always been more. She’s my one constant. The person who knows me better than anyone else, including the man before me.

“Let’s say you’re right about all of this, and I decide to do something about it. What if it doesn’t work out? What then?” Fear strangles me at the thought.

“What if it does?”

That response strikes with the force of a sledgehammer, awakening a profound sense of hope among infinite possibilities.

“You’ve had a rough start to life, kid. We both know that. But don’t let it control your future. Search what’s in here”—he points to his chest, his gaze unwavering—“the unknown can be scary, no doubt about it, but what’s even scarier is always wondering what could have been and never knowing. You need to decide which one you can live with more.”

He chooses to end the conversation there, rising from his chair with a quiet resolve.

His boots thud under his weight as he heads toward the door.

“Hey, Ryland?” I call out, my voice weighted with the decision I need to make.

He pauses, his hand resting on the doorknob as he glances back at me over his shoulder.

“What happened to Jaxson after he went back? Do you know?” My heart pounds in sync with the question, fearing for what the answer might be.

Until a smile transforms his face, replacing the solemnity that was there moments before. “He married her, and they have a beautiful daughter now,” he reveals, pride evident in his voice. “Guess the risk he took paid off.”

The last of his words are an echo as he walks out, leaving me with the weight of the choice I need to make.

The room seems to expand, becoming larger and emptier, as if it’s holding its breath, waiting for me to fill it with my decision. My leap into the unknown.

Ellie

Eight Years Old

My bare feet dangle off the dock as I sit next to Gunnar at Gap Lake, a place we come to often when we want to fish.

I slurp at the juices of my melting popsicle I hold in one hand, while gripping my fishing pole in the other, praying I get a bite this time.