Chapter 38

THIRTY-EIGHT

I don’t like the way she’s talking. She can’t possibly think I’m only here because of the baby.

Can she?

My arm tightens around her waist, my heart racing in my chest. “No, because I love you.”

She yawns, and her voice is whisper soft when she speaks, her eyes closed. “You don’t need to lie anymore. I understand.”

Her voice starts to fade, but panic claws at me. “Understand what?” I can barely ask, but I have to know what the fuck she’s talking about.

“That I’m not lovable.”

My heart stops as her breath evens out, and she falls into a much-needed sleep. But fear and hurt grip me so painfully tight I can barely breathe. She thinks she’s unlovable?

I knew I messed up, but this is worse than I could’ve ever imagined.

How can she think that? It’s not just that she doesn’t believe I love her—which is bad enough. She doesn’t believe she’s worth loving at all.

I’m not lovable .

The sentence taunts me as she sleeps deeply next to me, and I hold her tight like if I let her go for a second, I might lose her forever.

That’s not an option. And I’ll do whatever I need to do to prove her wrong.

Proving her wrong is much easier said than done. Over the next few weeks, a change comes over her, and if I thought she had her guard up when we first got together, it’s nothing compared to the woman who looks at me every day, her smiles never reaching her eyes and a slightly distant look in them whenever I catch her alone.

Her hand never leaves her belly though. She’s always rubbing it in some way, murmuring softly to herself which I suspect is more for our daughter than her.

It gets worse when I realize she’s buying her own groceries and not eating any of the ones I’ve bought. The more I watch her, the more aware I am that she’s only using the things she’s purchased with her own money. The only thing she accepts from me is the roof over her head and our bed to sleep in each night.

It chips away at my sanity, slowly but surely, because I’m losing her more with every day that passes even though she’s standing right in front of me.

She won’t even kiss me anymore.

Knowing what she thinks about herself—that she’s unlovable—is both a gift and a curse. At least I know what I’m fighting against, but how do you fight a demon that lives inside your loved one’s head? How do you fight something that doesn’t take physical form but has been reinforced in small, painful ways over and over again her entire life?

Thinking you’re unlovable doesn’t come from one heartache. It comes from being shown repeatedly that you’re not enough. That you’re not worthy of love. That no one can love you.

It hadn’t clicked how hard this battle was going to be until Danae explained it to me that way when I called in reinforcements. But not even reinforcements have helped;Lexi won’t open up to Alayna or Danae either. I’ve heard her talk to Blaire on the phone, but their conversations sound surface level—the same shit she gives me.

I’m not proud of it, but eavesdropping on her conversations has been the only way to try to get insight into where her mind is.

It’s not in a good place.

“How’s she doing?” Mom asks me over the phone.

I release a heavy sigh, my chest pulling tight. “Not good,” I choke out. “I don’t know how to reach her, Mom. I can’t get through. I love her, and she believes she’s unlovable.”

I filled my mom in when she called last week. I couldn’t hold it back, and I needed advice from another woman, one who’s never steered me wrong. She loves Lexi too, which just further proves that Lexi is nowhere close to unlovable.

I’ve never loved anyone more.

“How do I fix this?” I ask as my voice breaks.

“My sweet boy. Unfortunately, I don’t know that you can. She has to believe it. Have you looked into the therapist like Danae suggested?”

I glance at the stairs, but I know Lexi won’t come down, not while I’m here. She works hard to avoid the rooms I’m in. “I got her contact information. I haven’t given it to Lexi yet. I don’t know how she’ll take it, and I don’t want to make things worse.”

“I know you don’t. But she needs to talk to someone, a neutral party. She might not like you for it, but she deserves to believe she’s loved, Tyler.”

Fuck. My worry is that bringing it up will push her further away from me, and I’m barely hanging on by a thread as it is. She’s here, but I don’t have her. She barely lets me hold her. I feel like I’ve been dropped in the middle of the desert and can see the water, but it’s never within reach.

I need to hold her, to comfort her, to give her all the love inside me that’s dying to burst free and surround her until she believes it’s real.

I hate that my mom is probably right. None of it will matter until Lexi believes, and I can’t battle the monster in her head—only she can.

“I’ve gotta go, Mom.”

“Hang in there, Sweetie. Just keep loving her through this. We’re ready to come down there as soon as you give us the go-ahead to help out any way we can, okay?”

“Thanks, Mom.”

With a goodbye, I hang up the phone and then pull the business card I’ve been holding on to for the last few days out of my pants pocket. I twist it around in my fingers.

There’s no reason to delay. I’m not leaving Lexi or giving up on her, even if she shuts me out further after I give this to her. I’ll wait as long as it takes until she comes back to me, mind and body. My heart is hers, and only hers.

I climb the stairs, my feet moving heavy as dread curls in my gut. I may be doing what I know I need to do, but I’m not happy about the thought of losing her even more than I already have.

I’m about to walk into our room when her voice filters out of the nursery I set up across the hall. It was supposed to be a surprise before everything happened. I never got to do the big reveal I planned. I didn’t realize she’d even looked in here. The door is slightly cracked, so I lean against the wall next to it peeking in to watch her and listening to her soft voice talk to our daughter.

She runs her hand over the crib rail and then grabs the little Wolves jersey I bought with my last name on it—the name I still hope will be Lexi’s someday. She stares at it, holding it tightly in her hands as she moves to the large, cushioned rocking chair and sits down like the entire weight of the world is on her shoulders. The look of pure heartache on her face guts me. Worse than that, she looks lonely and lost, two things I never want her to feel again.

I can’t stand the distance anymore. I walk into the room cautiously, and as if startled, she stands up quickly and then grimaces in pain.

“Are you okay?” I ask, closing the distance between us in a heartbeat.

She brushes me off. “I’m fine. I just stood up too fast. It’s probably just round ligament pain. I should go lie down.” She pushes past me and waddles out of the room. I shove my hands in my hair, my heart cracking and my jaw clenched tight. I hate everything about this. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.

A shout of pain breaks through the silence, and I don’t think—I just move. Running across the hall into our room, I find Lexi in the bathroom bent over, tears streaming down her face and blood dripping on the floor. She looks up at me, stark fear permeating every inch of her face.

“Something’s wrong.”