It’s probably a morbid thing to admit, but I can’t help myself.

It’s as though giving the baby characteristics makes them real and gives me permission to grieve.

“Me too.” I hear his sharp intake of breath. “It goes without saying they would have been good-looking.”

I find myself smiling. “Good-looking and smart.”

He chuckles softly. “Probably a bossy know it all.”

“Definitely.”

Because let’s face it…all Covingtons are.

“I’d want them to have your strength, your brain, your gorgeous eyes and smile…but mostly? Your heart.”

I run my finger along the wood of the frame. “Why my heart?”

I hear him shift against the door “It’s my favorite thing about you.”

A weird twist goes through my chest. It’s odd he’d want that, because I’d want our baby to have most of his traits.

“Well, I’d want them to have your eyes and smile, your passion and creativity, your loyalty…but most of all, your soul.”

Because even though he’s made some catastrophic mistakes…I know he still has a beautiful one.

A low, guttural sound leaves him. He sounds so broken, something deep within my heart clenches.

“Good souls don’t take innocent lives.”

His statement is the equivalent of being submerged in ice water.

Words work like broken glass against my throat. “Oakley—”

“I don’t need you to make me feel better, Bianca. That’s not why I said that.” He draws in a ragged breath. “I just want you to know that if given the chance, not only would I take it all back…I’d gladly give up my life to spare theirs.”

I know he would.

But life doesn’t work like that.

And some mistakes are too painful to ever be forgiven.

However, Oakley’s made it clear that my forgiveness isn’t what he’s seeking. Which means he’s prepared to wallow in his guilt for the rest of his life.

“I don’t want you sleeping outside my door.”

I don’t want him showing up and fighting for me anymore…

Because he’s only going to tear himself apart trying to fix us.

And despite all the bad things that have happened between us…

I love him too much to allow that to happen.

Chapter 70

Oakley

“I know you’ve been sleeping outside her dorm room for over three weeks now and she still won’t talk to you,” Dylan says. “But you have to hang in there.”

Sawyer clutches her chest. “Even though it might not seem like it right now…Bianca still loves you.”

Dylan nods. “And you still love her.”

I take another bite of my pizza. Shit’s good.

Sawyer closes her eyes. “I know awful things have happened, but you guys are meant for each other.”

“You two are soul mates,” Dylan adds.

Sawyer blinks like she has something in her eye. “Two crazy halves of the same heart.”

I gesture to the pizza box on my coffee table. “Do you guys want any?”

They both look at me like I’m insane.

Dylan claps her hands. “Oakley, I need you to focus. What we’re saying is important.”

Sawyer rubs her temples. “I know Bianca’s stubborn and hard to handle at times. I get it. But you’re not always a peach either, mister.” Frowning, her shoulders sag. “Please don’t give up on her. You can make it through this.”

“I know you made some terrible mistakes and the guilt is weighing you down, but you’re still a good person.” Looking up at the ceiling, Dylan blows out a breath. “And I never thought I’d say this, but so is Bianca.” Her gaze cuts to mine. “I’m not saying it will be perfect all the time, but I know you two can work it out. Just don’t give up on her, okay?”

I place my pizza down and wipe my mouth with a napkin.

I appreciate Dylan and Sawyer coming here to try to knock some sense into me, but it’s not necessary.

“What the fuck makes you two think I would ever give up on Bianca?”

No matter how upset she is with me, or how stubborn she can be—I’m always going to fight for us.

Because I made her a promise that I’d never leave her.

And I’m fucking keeping it.

Chapter 71

Bianca

The last thing I wanted to do tonight was pour myself into a skintight red dress and show up at some club.

However, I knew being here for Dylan’s new client’s show would mean the world to her.

Therefore, here I fucking am.

I don’t miss the way the bouncer peruses my body from head to toe as I hand him my ID.

I’ve been cooped up in my dorm room for weeks and haven’t gone out much—with the exception of class—so I made sure to take my time with my hair and makeup.

Seeing as the grimy dude’s eyes are about ready to pop out of his skull, I’m starting to regret that decision.

“You’re not twenty-one yet, so no wristband,” he tells me.

It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him I don’t plan on drinking, but then he says, “But if you want to meet me in the back and show me what that mouth can—”

“Wow, that’s so sad.”

He blinks. “What is?”

Patting him on the shoulder, I slip past him. “You thinking I don’t have any standards.” I crinkle my nose. “But it’s okay, champ. By the looks of things, you’re not packing what it takes to satisfy me anyway.”

He tries to blow it off, but I can tell I ruffled his feathers. “Bitch.”

I quickly snatch my ID from his hand and snap my clutch closed. “I guess we have something in common then.”

Tossing my blown-out hair over my shoulder, I saunter past the velvet ropes.

Given the concert hasn’t started yet, the venue isn’t too crowded.

Looking around, I scan the room for my brothers and their girls, but I don’t spot them.

Not wanting to stand around by myself like a loser, I decide to grab a seat at the bar.

“What will it be?” the bartender asks after I sit down.

“Just a soda.”

I’m pulling some money out of my purse when I hear the girl next to me hiss, “Seriously, dude? How many times do I have to tell you to leave me alone?”

I take in her blonde hair with bright pink tips and the various tattoos and piercings she has.

She looks like a tough chick who can hold her own just fine.

“Come on, sexy,” the guy whines. “I just want to buy you a drink.”

Visibly aggravated, the girl slams her hand on the bar. “I’m good. Thanks.”

When the guy protests, she bites out, “You’re wasting your time, dude. I don’t play for your team.”

That doesn’t deter the guy at all. “No way in hell is a smoking girl like you gay.”

I bite back the urge to ask him what being beautiful has to do with someone’s sexual preference, but the girl scowls and says, “I’m serious, douchebag. You’re barking up the wrong tree.”