Chapter 308
Chapter 308
She froze against me, her body going rigid, and then she moved away just enough that I understood the message and let her go. She stood slowly, her body naked and full, every line of her body tense, and guarded. God, she was beautiful. Painfully so. I watched her walk over to the couch and pick up her robe, slipping it on with careful hands.
My body reacted before my mind could stop it, heat stirring low in my gut at the sight of her, at the memory of her skin beneath mine. But the feeling was drowned almost instantly by something sharper. Heavier.
Fear.
Pure, paralyzing fear of what she was about to say.
“Baby…” I called softly.
She stopped tying the belt of the robe and turned to face me, her expression unreadable, her eyes tired. “What do you want to talk about her for?”
“I want—”
“You weren’t there, Isaiah.”
Her voice cracked, and whatever was left of my heart shattered completely.
“You weren’t there,” she repeated, more broken now. “You weren’t there on those nights when I was ready to end it all. When I just wanted the pain to stop—any way it could.”
She swallowed hard, her chest rising unevenly.
“Do you know what I was about to do the day I found out I was pregnant?” she asked quietly. “I had already written a short letter to my mum and Maggie. The pills were right there in front of me. I was ready.”
My breath left my lungs.
“I felt sick,” she went on, her voice trembling. “I kept throwing up, and it didn’t even cross my mind at first. When I realized I might be pregnant… when I found out for sure, I—”
She broke. A sob tore out of her, and she lifted her palm to cover her eyes like she couldn’t bear the weight of the memory anymore. I was on my feet instantly.
Nothing—nothing—had ever hurt the way this did. Not bullets. Not knives. Not death itself.
“Malyshka—”
She shook her head, prying my hand away when I reached for her.
“I called my mum,” she continued, voice hoarse. “I told her I couldn’t keep it. I didn’t know how to live without you. I didn’t know how to breathe, Isaiah.”
Her eyes stayed on the floor as she wiped at her nose, humiliation and grief tangled together.
“But she convinced me,” Tamara whispered. “She told me this baby would be my reason to keep going. That I could look at Leah and see you in her, and it would be enough.”
She laughed weakly and bitterly.
“So I did. I carried her. And every time my stomach grew, you weren’t there. Not for the pain. Not for the fear. Not for the nights I hated myself for still being alive.”
Her shoulders shook.
“Leah is the reason I’m alive today,” she said, finally lifting her eyes to me. “She’s the only reason. And I can’t go through that again. I can’t—” she inhaled sharply, her breath stuttering, “if you’re just going to leave, you have to tell me now. She doesn’t deserve that. She deserves someone who will stay. Someone who will love her and—”
I dropped.
I didn’t think. I didn’t hesitate. I fell to my knees in front of her like my body understood before my mind could catch up. My hands gripped her waist, my face pressed into her legs as the sob ripped out of me.
“Let me love you,” I begged, my voice breaking apart. “Let me love both of you. Please.”
Tears soaked into the fabric of her robe as I cried like I had never cried before.
“She’s still young,” I went on desperately. “She won’t have to wonder about her father. Let me be there. Let me do this right. I swear to you, malyshka, I am not leaving you again.”
My chest heaved.
“Let me carry this burden with you,” I whispered. “Please. Please.”
Her fingers slid into my hair, trembling, and the simple touch shattered whatever control I had left. My tears came faster and harder.
“Isaiah—”
“Marry me,” I blurted.
She froze.
I lifted my head slowly, looking up at her like my life depended on it—because it did.
“Marry me, Tamara,” I said, my voice raw and exposed. “Please. Be my wife.”
I waited, truly waited, to see if she would let me live.