The Man I Thought I Trusted - E. L. Todd Page 0,76

was too hard to look at him and think clearly. “I don’t—”

“Don’t throw us away because of that shitshow, alright?” He turned more aggressive, attacking the second he spotted my hesitation, when he knew there was hope this could work. “I handled it poorly, and I apologize for that. But this is my new offer, what I wanted to do in the first place. I’m just sorry I didn’t think of it sooner.”

My hands rubbed up and down my arms just so I could fidget.

“Sweetheart…”

I tried to even out my breathing, but I still didn’t look at him. This time apart had made me miss him more, not less. I didn’t resume my old life and brush off the breakup like it never happened. The pain was always in my chest; it was always terrible. All my stuff was back in the apartment, but that bedroom felt foreign now. “I don’t know…”

He inhaled a deep breath. “Look at me.”

I finally turned back to him.

“This is too damn good to throw away, alright? It’s worth it. It is.” He raised his hands slightly and tightened them into fists, his knuckles turning white because he was so anxious to get the answer he wanted.

“I gave up my job once, and I won’t do it again.” I wasn’t going to go back into Vince’s office and change my mind for a second time. I’d look like a fucking idiot if I did. “I already humiliated myself once to my boss, and luckily he still respects me, so I’m not going to squander his good opinion for you once more. I’m willing…if you make this compromise.”

His hands immediately slackened, and his skin started to grow more and more pale, like the terror was turning his skin white everywhere. His eyes were open and frozen, like he hadn’t anticipated that counter. “You were going to give it up anyway—”

“Nonnegotiable.”

He inhaled another deep breath.

“If you do this again, these are my terms. I already sacrificed my job for you once. I already forgave you for all the lies you spewed. I already left my apartment and moved in to your place. I already agreed to sign everything you wanted me to sign. I’m the only one making compromises here, and I’m done with that.”

Now, he was the one that looked away. “What about kids?”

“We can still do that.”

“If someone wants to target you, they’re going to target your family. I can live with that to be with you because my life is mine to gamble. But I won’t risk my children. I won’t. Here’s another compromise—you keep your job until we have a family. Then you walk away.”

I shook my head. “No.”

The life left his eyes.

“I shouldn’t have to choose between being a mother and having a career—”

“You know the career has nothing to do with it. It’s the danger associated with your job.”

I didn’t want to be obligated to do something sometime in the future when I had no idea how I might feel about it at that point. “You have a lot of money to keep us safe—”

“Still not worth the risk. Come on, Carson—”

“No. Take it or leave it.”

His arms slowly dropped to his sides, and now he looked devastated, like he was losing me all over again. “I will make any compromise you want to make this work. I will walk away from my job altogether, give all my money to charity, whatever you want. But your job puts your life at risk every fucking day, and I can’t live that way—never knowing if you’re going to come home.”

“Police officers and firefighters do it every day—”

“Their jobs aren’t nearly as dangerous as yours, and you know it.” He dug his fingers into his hair for a moment, fisting it hard in frustration. “Carson, please…”

“No. That’s my final answer. Take it or leave it.”

The energy quickly changed, taking a nose dive, plummeting hard until it hit the ground with a collision that shook the earth. He looked away, appearing lifeless, empty, full of despair. Seconds passed before he turned back to look at me. “You know I can’t take that.” He shifted his gaze back to me. “I know I’ve fucked up a lot, but my intentions were always good and my situation made it difficult to see that. But I’m not asking for anything unreasonable. You know I’m not. The only reason you aren’t giving it to me is because it’s an excuse, because you’re scared to do this again, and you’d