Chapter 18

Ella

I haven't seen Rhokar all week.

That'd be because I've been hauling ass directly to the portables on site since Monday, too agitated and unsure of how I even feel, to know how I'll deal with the confrontation of seeing his face.

Avoiding him feels like a necessary shield, a way to protect myself from the chaos he brings to my emotions. I've got enough going on with my babies being here now, with settling us into this new environment and schedule, to want to complicate things further by reaching out to contact him, and I haven't heard so much as a peep from him. I could text, or call, or appear at the office…but maybe I don't want to be the one to initiate. Maybe I want to see if he wants this enough to make the move himself.

Also, I'm a coward.

I'll admit that I'm a little bit apprehensive of what will happen next—largely because I'm still not sure what I want

to happen next. I see-saw between hoping Rhokar will bridge the gap forming between us, and then suddenly being surer than ever that he should absolutely leave me alone, that I need the space to collect my thoughts and figure out my emotions.

Because disregarding myself, even the idea of what's best for the twins remains elusive to me.

Should I reject Rhokar outright? Keep his volatile emotions, and the uncertainty and stress they bring, far away from my children? But, no. If he wants to be our lives, I would never deliberately separate him from his babies. Despite what faults he may have, he isn't a bad person.

Would it be better if we settle on a cool but friendly co-parenting relationship, where it would be easier to control things and keep everything civil and stable?

Should I take that chance, take that terrifying leap, and allow him into my heart? Give us the opportunity to see if we really would work well together in the long run, as a complete family unit?

Even more terrifying, would he even want that? I know what he said in the heat of the moment on Saturday night, but what if he doesn't think he can trust me anymore after Sunday morning?

If he thinks that , then…then I wouldn't want him anyway. Someone whose opinion is so easy to sway without allowing for an explanation? That's not the level of maturity or stability that I'd want in a partner, to father my children.

Unless it was just his own fears bubbling out of him, and now he's simply stuck in the same purgatory of indecision as me? In which case I couldn't say I don't empathize…

Jeez!

I power down my computer and stare out the window, watching as the sun begins to set behind what's left of the construction machinery outside.

It's nearly six in the evening, and once again, I'm the only one left working. I have the twins booked until the last available slot at seven every day just to be safe, although I do my best to swing by Gossamer Wings and pick them up from their caretakers earlier whenever possible. They're only a fifteen-minute drive from the office, so I usually make it before then.

I sigh and lean back against my seat. Alright, I'm getting up. I'm coming for you, babies.

It's been more than wonderful to have them back in my arms again. Suddenly, I have all the energy in the world to cook a simple dinner every night again to make sure my little ones are getting all the nutrition they need.

I'm just on the cusp of standing when my phone buzzes with a text, and

I

do not hope suddenly and fervently that the orc plaguing my thoughts is on the other end of the message as I snatch it up. That's not what goes through my mind, not at all.

I unlock and check. It's Rhokar.

I tell my stupid heart to shut up and stop beating so frantically at the fact that he's finally

made a move to reach out after four freaking days of silence.

I tap open the message slowly, pretending to myself that I have zero desire to rip through the motions as quickly as possible. It's a short, simple text.

Meet me at Bitter Sweet.

A deadpanned expression falls across my features, and I stare. After all this time, this

is what I get? A five-word demand for a coffee date?

I drop my phone back on the table.

"Meet me at Bitter Sweet , " I huff in the deepest, most mockingly stupid voice I can manage. "That's all you've got to say? You freaking…orc!"

I glare at my phone, lift my chin, and then carefully begin to pack away my things. Let him sit on read, the jerk.

A few seconds later, my phone buzzes impatiently again, and I grab it with a roll of my eyes.

Today, after work.

"Yeah, I gathered that much, genius," I mutter to myself, and still refuse to respond as I clip my way across the office, head held high as if he was here to see my attitude.

When my phone buzzes for a third time I don't need to unlock it, since the screen hasn't even had time to power off yet.

Do you know where that coffee shop is?

"Okay, fine, I'll respond, you impatient alphahole," I mutter as I lock up, but I get another buzz before I even pull out the keys.

They close at seven. Don't dawdle.

"Oh, my god!" I cry, hitching my handbag higher and starting to respond, before dropping the keys in the mad juggle between bag and phone. By the time I pick them back up, there's another buzz.

I'm on my way to pick you up now.

I start typing my response with another eyeroll, before he explodes and Hulk-smashes his way through town to come get me.

I'm picking up the twins from daycare. I'll bring them with me. Wait for me there.

Ass.

***

I push open the white-washed wooden door to Bitter Sweet with my hip, and roll the twins in on their stroller backwards. I've already caught a glimpse of Rhokar at the back, in his suit, holding a coffee cup in his hand, one ankle crossed at his knee as he waits.

But I look away quickly and pretend that I haven't seen him as I maneuver the stroller, taking a steadying breath.

Why am I feeling nervous?

A millisecond later he appears at my side, a hand pressing lightly at the small of my back. "Do you—"

"Jeez, Rhokar!"

"—need help with that?"

"You scared me half to death!" I barely refrain from stomping my foot as my heart jolts. How the hell did he get here so freaking quickly? "What have I told you about sneaking around and scaring people?"

His brows raise. "I thought you had an issue with my stomping, not my sneaking."

"You stomp…sneakily," I huff, before tipping my chin haughtily and spinning the stroller around on my own.

He looks about ready to say something else, but his eyes dart down to the twins, and I feel his fingers twitch at my back. Instead of sniping back at me, he turns and demands for the server to bring two highchairs as we head to his table, and he fusses, refusing to sit as I get them settled.

I've got Rylah in my hands, who's wriggling around like usual, not cooperating with her feet to get in the highchair, and I huff. "Come on, sweetie, we both know you prefer sitting up here instead of staying in the stroller."

"Up!" she squeaks happily, kicking her feet even more uncooperatively. "Up!"

Rhokar is frowning, as per usual. But he hasn't sat down, and his hands keep making abrupt movements forward, as if he wants to help but isn't sure how.

I eye him for a moment, and then nod towards Rowan, who's sitting chill as anything, watching us. "Grab him and pop him in the other chair for me, will you?"

Rhokar blinks, eyes darting between me and the stroller. "You're sure?"

"Yeah, why not? You're not going to break him." I turn away, pretending to leave him to it. But I watch in the reflection of the window beside us, and my heart flutters at the careful, hesitant way he crouches down to unbuckle and lift my son.

Our son, I mentally correct.

Then he stands, holding him a couple of inches away from his chest like he has no idea what to do, and I see him pause, staring at the little boy in his arms. Rowan lifts a chubby hand, and grabs onto the stray strand of hair that's fallen out of his man-bun. Rhokar doesn't do anything about it.

I finish with Rylah, who's already distracted trying to reach for the napkins on the table, and I turn to bat my son's little arm away. I try mightily to suppress my smile as I push him into Rhokar's chest, pretending I need room to come around to the other side of the highchairs as I pass them.

I could swear I hear Rhokar's breath hitch. When I turn back around, he has his arms tight around his son, and is still staring intently into his chubby, little face. I give them a second, and when Rhokar's eyes flick over to me he clears his throat and comes forward, ever so carefully slipping the unresistant boy into his chair.

We sit, and there's a silence.

I'm already thinking about how handsome Rhokar is, as he stares once more at our kids. About how good he looks with a child in his arms, how it might feel to see him hold a newborn…and this makes my smile slip, and worry cloud my thoughts instead. I'm so easily swayed when I'm in his presence. Is that a good thing? Or bad? I don't even know.

I let out a forlorn breath, feeling myself starting to get overwhelmed with uncertainty again, and I press my fingers lightly into my eyes.

"What's wrong?" Rhokar murmurs quietly, and when I look again his eyes are focused on me.

But for once, I don't know how to respond. I can only shrug my shoulders helplessly.

He leans back, eyes flicking once more towards the twins, and then out of the blue he asks softly, "Why didn't you tell me about them?"

I take a sharp breath and feel my expression shift again, but he shakes his head, and his brows furrow in what looks suspiciously like concern.

"I know you told me," he continues quietly. "I know. Please, for my sake…please tell me again."

I let the breath out slowly and study him. His expression is open, his shoulders slumped, and something about him feels vulnerable, somehow.

I relent. "I was scared, Rhokar. Scared of how you'd react. Scared that you might reject them, reject us. I don't know what else to say." I hug my arms around my torso and bite my lip, unsure if I should continue, but in the end, I decide on complete honestly. "It's one thing if I couldn't find you, you know? If I raised them on my own because I didn't know where you were. But it's another thing entirely if you didn't want us. If you're right here, right within reach, and I still had to do it by myself. That would be worse." I let out a breath. "I wanted to tell you, but I was a coward. I waited too long."

I watch as his thick green fingers slowly curl into a fist, before loosening again. "Why wouldn't I want you?"

I shrug again. "What if I'm unlovable?"

I cringe as soon as the words are out of my mouth, and my eyes shoot back up to his face. I hadn't meant to say that! What dark, hidden recesses of my soul had that even dragged itself up from? I bite my lip harder and let out a groan. "God, that was so pathetic."

"Ella…"

"Ugh , Rho, see this is exactly why—"

He leans abruptly forward in his seat, stretching his massive arm across the table and forcing my hand from around my torso so he can squeeze it, and frown intensely at me. "Don't do that. Don't dismiss your pain."

I take a deep breath, my words stuttering to a stop at the unwavering command in his voice, and I watch as he draws my hand onto the table to sit dwarfed inside his big green palm.

"Why would you think you're unlovable?"

"Because nobody stays," I find myself whispering back, without meaning to. "I always try so hard, but I'm in my forties and still alone. Even marriage doesn't seem to help."

"You were married?"

"Once," I say looking down at our hands, where he seems to be gripping me as if afraid I'll pull away. "But we couldn't have kids, and he didn't love me enough to overcome that, I guess. Maybe I'm too much. Too career driven, too brash, not feminine or gentle or, I don't know, submissive enough to make me worth staying for. There has to be a reason."

"You seem plenty submissive to me," he whispers, his fingers slipping around to thread through mine.

I make a little choking sound as I look into his dark eyes, my mind immediately thrown to Saturday night as a shiver runs down my spine and straight to my panties.

"I'm pretty sure you're the perfect woman," he continues quietly, and my breath stops entirely as his eyes flick back and forth between mine. "Beautiful. Capable and efficient at work. Dedicated to your children. Able to juggle being a single mother with your career. Able to handle me, to stand your ground when you need to, and to bend when I need it—and yes, I do know how difficult I can be." His lips lift in a sad half-smile around his tusks, and my heart basically melts into a puddle of goo. "I'm sorry I'm so…grumpy all the time."

"Oh, that doesn't truly bother me." I shrug, and he blinks as if surprised, his brows lifting again. But if he's about to say anything in reply, he doesn't manage as we're interrupted by a loud, metallic clang. We both jerk our heads towards the twins to see Rylah holding a fistful of napkins, triumphantly throwing them in the air as Rowan giggles and claps his hands at her chaos.

"So you've got an attitude," I continue, unfazed as I begin to scoop up the fluttering napkins. "What of it? So do I. You're also perfectly capable of smiling, of being gentle and thoughtful, I've seen it. And anyway, you're kind of funny when you're being a bastard, sometimes."

He looks a bit stunned as he surfaces from where he bent to pick up the metal holder that had been thrown to the ground.

"I'm funny?"

I huff in amusement and messily shove the napkins back into the holder. "Hilarious."

He blinks several times. "Really?"

That gets a chuckle out of me, and I roll my eyes. "Rhokar, your stupid Hulk personality is great, okay? Even when you're being annoying. But—"

He lunges across the table again and grabs my hand once more, squeezing my fingers between both of his palms tightly. "Stop there."

Now it's my turn to blink at him in surprise.

His lips twitch upwards, but it's a half-hearted attempt at best. "Don't finish that sentence. Let's just leave it at that." As if he thinks that my ‘but' will turn into something he might not be able to come back from.

I sigh, because we have

to talk about the negatives. We can't just ignore it. "Rho…"

"I'm sorry," he says again, and I distantly notice a repetitive clang as Rylah gets her little hands on the napkin holder and bashes it around, but I find myself too caught in his gaze to care right now. "I'm sorry I reacted the way I did on Sunday. I'm sorry I said what I said. You didn't deserve my harsh words, or my accusations. I reacted badly."

I look between his two broad palms swamping my hand, and his earnest expression. A little more tension leaves me. "I've been told what it means in your culture, to keep your children away from you. I'm—"

But he interrupts me again with a shake of his head. "I know you didn't mean it like that. I was…"

He curls his hands so that the fingers of both hands sit at my palm, both thumbs on the back of my hand rubbing small circles, and he draws my hand closer to himself as he stares down at my knuckles.

"I was almost married, once," he says after a long moment.

"I know," I reply, with a little guilt. "Sorry, this town is kind of gossipy."

He huffs and briefly meets my gaze without accusation. "I know." But then his eyes slip back down again, and his smile fades once more. "She left me, and I still don't know why. She was just gone one day. How many things did she hide from me? How many thoughts, how many unsaid emotions and unfulfilled wants did she harbor in her heart? Did she grow to hate me? Did she have a secret lover, a desire for something I wasn't giving her, did I do something wrong? I don't know, and never will. So when I realized you'd been hiding something so big from me, it hit me hard. I assumed the worst. I assumed it was because of a fault of mine, that you weren't telling me because…because I wasn't good enough for you. For our children. I reacted badly, Ella. I'm sorry . "

Not good enough?

My throat feels tight as I stare at him, and I struggle to keep my own emotions in check. His voice is raspy as he speaks, and he still hasn't looked up at me.

"I want these children in my life. I want my kids very, very much." His fingers squeeze around mine, and he finally draws his eyes to me. "I'm not a man to beg, Ella, but for this I will. I want to be there for my kids, to provide for them, to take care of them. I want to help. Please don't cut me off from them."

"I would never," I whisper, unable to make my voice work properly as I feel the back of my eyes stinging with tears. "I'm so sorry I waited so long to tell you, but I really was

going to let you know. I was going to tell you before the kids arrived, but Grace showed up early. I swear it."

He takes a deep breath, and suddenly his gaze is steady and intent. "I want you, too."

And this is where my overwhelming tumble of emotions came crashing over me, and the noise in my brain takes over. Slowly, I draw my fingers from his, because I can't think straight when he's touching me.

His lips press together as he watches me pull away, and after a long, long moment, he sits back in his chair.

"Rhokar…"

He looks away, and his jaw ticks. My heart plummets at the sight, at the look on his face, like he just lost something. I clear my throat, and will my voice to steady.

"Rhokar," I try again. "I'm not saying no, okay?"

He huffs through his nose, and his voice is rough. "But you're not saying yes."

"It's just…what if we're too volatile?" His gaze makes its way back to me, and his jaw continues to twitch as if he can't stop clenching it. I don't like to see him like this, if I'm honest with myself. But for years I've been afraid of committing, and it seems like it's been the same way for him. I worry I'm not good enough to be loved, and apparently, so does he. It's… "Rhokar, we're too similar, I think. We're both headstrong, both stubborn, and apparently, we have similar emotional hang-ups. We blow up too quickly. Misunderstand each other too easily. We both have a little too much pride and a little too short of a temper."

He snorts, and a self-deprecating smile twitches against his tusks.

"Look at how many ups and downs we've gone through already, and it's only been a few weeks. And the kids haven't even been thrown into the mix yet."

His eyes slide back across to the twins, who are both busy ripping all the napkins into a thousand tiny pieces and muttering incomprehensibly to each other. Neither of us do anything to stop them, allowing the kids their distraction for now.

"I can't deny our chemistry, but I think we're both trying to jump into this too quickly. I'm not saying no to us, Rho, but…"

He nods sharply, once, and I let my words die away.

Several minutes pass as we both sit in silence, absorbing the conversation we've just had, until I eventually sigh and begin to clear up the mess the toddlers have made.

"Come on, babies," I say once I'm done, Rhokar's still in the same position as if he doesn't notice the world around him right now. "Let's get you home and get some dinner in you, how does that sound?"

I stand to unbuckle them, but as I lift Rylah, who's closest to me, I pause with her in my arms and take a considering look at Rho, a thought floating through my mind.

I don't want to cut him off. And I don't want him to look so sad.

Even if we don't work out as a couple, we can still create something good for the kids.

"Rhokar, would you like to join us for dinner?"

Finally, he seems to stir from his thoughts and looks over at me. "What?"

"I was thinking pasta tonight," I continue, as I turn to get Rylah back in the stroller. "I've got some chicken in the fridge, but if you're joining us it might not be enough. Maybe you could grab some more on your way over to mine? It won't take me more than twenty minutes to cook."

He's frowning at me as I turn for Rowan, and again, for no reason at all, I feel nervous. "Unless you're, uh, busy?"

Maybe he needs some time away from us. Maybe me not giving him a direct ‘yes' has made him feel…

"Not too busy for you," he says, standing suddenly and reaching for my hand, stopping me from lifting Rowan so that he can do it himself. "Never too busy for you."

I can't help the way my breath pulls in sharply at his touch, at the way he looks at me, and he finally lets another small smile lift his features as he lifts our boy into his arms.

"I'll be there, Ella. Tell me what else you need."

And I know he's talking about food for tonight, but somehow, it feels like he's offering a whole lot more.