“Dormant rogue cells.”
His jaw dropped, clearly stunned he dragged in a ragged breath.
“Cancer cells, Hunter,” she carried on, furiously telling him everything. “Killers. You deserve more than the uncertainty I come with. You’ve lost too much,” she said.
“So have you,” he snapped back. “But so what? We’ve lost but we live anyway. We carry on.”
“I can’t give you anything that you need.”
Pure frustration crossed his face. “So I get no say? You just make that decision all on your own? Isn’t it for me to decide if I’ve lost too much? You’re taking away from me—the best bits. The time we could have.”
On the one hand Hunter was so freaking elated because he now knew she cared, but he was so pissed off with her for still being such a damn chicken. For not seeing past the road blocks. This wasn’t insurmountable.
“Wouldn’t it be worth it?” He glared at her. “Wouldn’t I be worth it?”
He hated that she wouldn’t answer.
“I can throw some clichés at you if you want,” he growled. “They’re clichés for a reason you know. Because they’re usually right. So how about one day at a time, huh? How about facing something together?”
She was still silent. That was his trick. Now he realized just how annoying it must be.
“You think you’re so tough. So adventurous. So brave. You’re the biggest coward I’ve ever met. You couldn’t even tell me the truth.” Not even when he’d exposed his deepest vulnerability. When he’d trusted her. Just when he thought she’d accepted him, she’d walked out.
He hated himself for lashing out at her. It was her life. She could do what she wanted with it. And just because she didn’t want him, that wasn’t her problem, it was his.
That’s if that was true. But he didn’t think it was—the way she looked at him? The way she argued she wanted to protect him?
He gritted his teeth. More wishful fucking thinking on his part? No, he believed she still wanted him. She was flushed and agitated now. He induced strong feelings in her and it wasn’t hate.
He drew a breath and tried another tack. “I get that you’re scared.”
But old, deep doubts suddenly roared. Was she scared or was this her searching for an excuse? Was he just embarrassing himself? The old horrors sank their teeth into him. Could he be any less wanted? Why did he always want what he couldn’t have? Didn’t he damn well deserve something more? What was wrong with him? To say life was unfair was an understatement. But the fucking pity party was pointless. He curled his fists, aching for physical aggression to burn it out.
“I get that I’m no picnic. I’m not the easiest of people to love. That’s okay. You don’t have to.”
“Hunter, it’s because I care about you that I’m doing this.”
“No,” he roared, his control torn. “That’s a lie. Don’t try to soften the blow with that kind of crap. This is about you. This is only about you.”
“I love you.”
And that just killed him. The three little words, delivered with such softness, such lightness—and he couldn’t believe her no matter how much he wanted to. Actions always spoke louder than words.
“You don’t know what love is.” He shouted—only it came out as a whisper. “If you cared…” he breathed hard. “If you truly loved me, you wouldn’t be doing this. You wouldn’t be able to.”
Because she wouldn’t be able to bear how much she was hurting him.
Luisa felt like she’d been sliced open from throat to navel. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t get her brain to work.
“I can’t do anything else,” she whispered. It would be worse if she didn’t end it now. Hot tears rolled down her cheek. “I’m so, so sorry.”
“Yeah,” he nodded bitterly. “For yourself.”
“Stop putting this all on me,” she flared up at him, so angry with him for doing this. For ripping them both apart. “You’re every bit as isolated as I am. Did you really want anything more from me? Wasn’t this just lust? ‘Uncomplicated’ and ‘not that difficult’? Isn’t that all this was? You don’t want any more anyway. The only reason you’re so pissed is because you failed at the one thing you pride yourself on—finding out all the facts. You missed a whole chunk of it here and you’re mad. That’s why you’re going off at me now. You hate not knowing everything.”
“Do you blame me for that?”
“Of course I don’t. But you need to be as honest as you’re asking me to be. You never wanted a relationship.” She shook her head. “At least, not with me you didn’t. I was the fun fuck Hunter. The vacation relief. That’s all you ever wanted from me.”
“I had no idea what I wanted. I was an idiot. This whole damn thing is a first for me.”
“It’s not your lifestyle.”
“Why does my lifestyle have to fit in with someone else’s ideal?”
“You’re away for months at a time. You said yourself, a relationship isn’t compatible. You’re just mad because I walked out on you again.”
“Maybe it could be. Maybe now I’ve met you, I could want that.”
“The white picket fence and a dog and a couple of kids?” She stared at him in horror. “Too bad. I can’t give it to you, even if I wanted to.” She dragged in a burning, savage breath. “I can’t have kids Hunter. My ovaries got fried with the cancer treatment. They would have done an egg harvest, but they decided they didn’t have time. So I… can’t. I can’t give you everything you deserve.”
The hurt on his face now was unbearable.
“I can’t give you what I want to be able to give you,” she cried. “I can’t give you anything you want.”
“How the fuck do you know what I want?” he exploded. “You won’t even listen to me. Don’t you get it? You’re all I want. You’re everything I want.”
“You should have so much more. You should—”
“Don’t you think that maybe I’d want to help some other kid who’s lost his parents?” He interrupted her ferociously. “Why be so bloody conservative with your ideal family set-up? Maybe I’d rather foster some poor little scrap who’s started off with fuck-all chance. I’d adopt. I don’t have to reproduce my own DNA. If that’s not possible, it’s not possible. But that doesn’t mean we can’t build a fucking awesome family. But I’d never lie to my kids. And I’d never keep secrets from them.”
Her eyes welled and a torrent of tears fell, but she didn’t cry out, didn’t sob. She was silent in the face of his honesty.
“You think you’re living this adventurous life?” He didn’t stop. He ripped her more. “You hurt the ones who love you already. When it comes to people you don’t seize the day, you sit on the sidelines and watch everyone else.”
“In my bomb proof glass box,” she nodded. “Because I don’t want to hurt anyone else again.”
“Because you’re so giving?” He shook his head at her. “You’re the biggest coward I’ve ever met.”
He’d stripped the last of her defenses f
rom her and now she was beyond livid—she was broken.
“You deserve so much more than what I can give you and that is true,” she shrieked. “You do. But you’re right, that’s the easy answer. It’s easier for me to turn it around and say its to protect others—to protect you. But okay, you’re right, it’s about me too. I can’t do it Hunter.” She jabbed her fingers into her chest. “I can’t go through it again. Not with you. And you put yourself in danger.” She shook with the horror of it. “I want you, but I need a kind of certainty I know I can never have. Yes, I’m scared. And maybe I’m selfish. But I can’t reconcile my feelings.”
There was an abyss between them—an impossible impasse. And there was no way to bridge it.
“So the solution is to run away?” he asked, finally.
“Yes,” she admitted the raw, ugly truth. “I’m too broken for you.”
He looked at her for a long, silent moment. His expression was unfathomable again—and becoming more remote with every passing second. At last he turned and walked away from her.
Luisa sat on the cold stone seat and watched him go.
She’d done it. She’d banished him.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
LUISA HUNG HER skates back in the cupboard where they’d always waited for her return. Her mother glanced up from the table where she was sitting working on a puzzle.
“Your friend didn’t come back with you?” Her mom asked gently.
Luisa shook her head and tried to smile, not trusting her voice.
“He seemed nice.” Her mom commented.
Luisa’s throat tightened unbearably. “He’s a very nice man, mom.”
“But you’re not going to see him again?” Her mom didn’t look at her but kept her eyes on the puzzle, as if she were afraid to pry too personally.