Page 117 of Oathbreaker

And I see the truth in his beautiful sapphire eyes.

There are other people who could do this rescue mission.

Other people he could call on to save his friend when he’s still recovering from being tortured, when he’s not at full strength, when he’s still suffering from flashbacks, when…

Going means having to leave Frankie and me and—my fingers clench on the strap of my purse, the pregnancy tests rattling inside like fate’s worst joke—our baby.

He’s going to make a deliberate choice to leave all three of us.

After he promised—promised—to stay.

“If you leave us again,” I rasp, the words torn out of me, “you can’t come back. I won’t give you a third chance to hurt us.”

“Baby,” he says, gently pulling me against his chest and wrapping his arms around me. “I’ll be back before you know it. And then I will never leave you again. I promise.”

More promises.

Promises he’ll break.

I pull out of his hold.

“I love you,” he murmurs, cupping my face in both of his hands. “I’m coming back, but I have to do this.”

Words.

Words that don’t matter, not when he’s leaving again.

That don’t matter when he drops his hands away, picks up his duffle, and heads out to the garage, the door clicking softly closed behind him.

The sob escapes, and I lose my battle against my tears, feeling them sliding down my cheeks, dripping off my jaw, soaking into the collar of my shirt.

I sink to the floor, purse hitting it beside me, contents scattering, the tests—oh God, the tests—bringing nothing but pain now. Pain and heartbreak and the reminder that I’m not enough and I won’t ever be.

That thought ricochets through me so violently, that when I glance down, I expect there to be a gaping hole in my chest where my heart used to be.

But it’s whole.

I’m whole.

On the outside.

And I need to pull it together so that Frankie never thinks that she’s not enough.

Never looks at herself in the mirror and wonders why her father wouldn’t stick around.

And I’ll make sure this new baby doesn’t think that either.

I wipe my tears, move to the stairs. I’ll splash some water on my face, fix my makeup, and I’ll get myself together so I can get my daughter from school and she doesn’t know that I’ve been broken into a thousand pieces.

That I’ve lost something that won’t ever come back.

Only when I get there, I find my knees buckling again, the tears coming fast and furious.

Because on the edge of the bed…is a bundle of letters.

Thirty-Six

Colt