The Truest Thing (Hart's Boardwalk 4)

“Oh. Okay.”

“A lot of sex. It was supposed to be no strings attached.”

“Yes, because that kind of arrangement makes total sense with the man whose baby you’re carrying.”

I ignored her sarcasm. “He told me he loved me. The morning after Tyler was born. And I didn’t say it back. We haven’t spoken since.”

“Why didn’t you say it back?”

The million-dollar question. I’d had time to think on it this past week. “Because … You know my past, Ivy. You know what’s happened when I dared to love someone. I survived all that. I survived my parents’ lack of love, for goodness’ sake. I survived Tripp. But Jack.” I looked at her, emotion welling inside of me. “Jack has been and always will be the person I want most in the world. And I already know what it feels like to be hurt by him. If I allow myself to admit to him … to start an actual relationship and then he turns around and stops loving me … How do I survive that? And I don’t just have me to think about anymore. I have my baby. I can’t fall apart over a broken heart when I have a child I’m responsible for.”

“Why would Jack stop loving you?” she asked.

“Because people stop loving each other all the time.”

“Okay. Then let me pose another question. Say you do push Jack away because you’re terrified of being hurt. It doesn’t change the fact that you love him. And then he eventually settles for some other woman since he can’t have you. You’ll have to drop off your kid to Jack and this other woman who will help raise your kid. With Jack. How does that make you feel?”

Anytime I imagined that hypothetical, my chest burned like it was on fire from the inside. “Heartbroken,” I whispered.

“So, let’s look at the math. You tell Jack you love him, you create a real family together, and somewhere down the years, there might be a 0.1 percent chance that Jack falls out of love with you and you get your heart broken. Or … you let Jack go now. He meets someone else. There is a 100 percent chance it will break your heart. I don’t know about you, but I much prefer the percentage of the former.”

“Ivy, 0.1 percent is being generous.”

She threw me a wry smile. “Em, do you know what we’ve all been talking about behind your back for weeks?”

I stiffened. “What?”

“You and Jack. And how it makes our stomachs flutter just witnessing the way he watches you.” Ivy fanned herself comically. “Seriously, Em. If I thought for one second Jeff was looking at me like that, I’d never let him out of bed. Even Bailey, who has Vaughn treating her to his smoldering intensity all the time, said no guy she’s ever met has ever quite looked at a woman the way Jack looks at you.”

I gaped at her, my heart racing. “How does he look at me?”

She gave me a quick, somewhat misty-eyed smile. “Like he’s just waiting to jump in front of a moving car for you. Or take a bullet to protect you. Like he couldn’t live without you.”

Tears brightened my own eyes. “Ivy.”

“Like you’re the reason he exists. It’s intense, Em. But it’s a good intense. I would never say this if I didn’t mean it … But you should tell Jack you love him and give it a shot. So, there’s a tiny, tiny chance it doesn’t work out between you. Is that slight chance worth losing out on being with a guy who looks at you with such longing, it makes my heart hurt?”

I sucked in a deep, shaky breath.

And I knew she was right.

I knew if I let Jack slip away, I’d regret it for the rest of my life.

“Goddammit,” I huffed. “Now I really just want to find Jack.”

“Take a minute, breathe,” Ivy advised. “We’ll go to the group. You can get your head together and think about what you want to say to him when we get back into town.”

So that was the plan.

And I was a jittery, distracted mess as we hung out with the kids.

Leaving Ivy to teach Casey solitaire, which was a much less controversial alternative to poker, I was walking across the room to where the kids were playing a video game when I felt a painful squeezing sensation in my belly. It was like a period cramp.

Even though my heart sped up at the feeling, I tried to shake it. But when I took another step, I experienced another painful squeeze.

Concern made me flush hot from head to toe. Excusing myself, I hurried to the restroom and locked myself inside a stall. My mind raced to the worst-possible reason for the cramps, and I unbuttoned my jeans.

There on my underwear was my worst fear. A few spots of blood.