You’ll be a wonderful mother one day.

Vivienne’s heart stopped at Max’s statement. He had meant well, and the dreamy expression on his face was endearing, but his words dug into her like claws scratching at a wound that never healed.

“Vivienne?” Max frowned. “Is everything okay?”

She absentmindedly nodded.

“Hey,” he said, tilting her head to give her a good look.

His eyes were warm as was his hand under her chin, and for the first time, Vivienne felt the need to confide her anguish.

“I can’t have kids,” she whispered.

There, the horrible truth was out. Would Max look at her with pity like her clan did? Poor, broken Vivienne, the weak half-breed who would never have a pup of her own.

“I’m sorry.” His hand moved from her chin to her shoulder, searing a path on her skin. “You can still be a mother. Being a parent can come in different forms. I know it’s not a consolation, but it’s true. Look at my mother.”

She stared at him, unable to talk, tears welling in her eyes.

“I didn’t mean to upset you.” Max caressed her arm. “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” she said, taking a long breath before adding, “I’m grateful for your words. People usually react differently when they discover I can’t have kids.”

“They feel sorry for you,” he said.

“I hate it.” She had never said anything about it before. It felt liberating and encouraged her to say more. “For a she-wolf, mating and having as many children as she can is all there is in life. We might have very demanding and prestigious careers, but our society sees a she-wolf with less than three pups as defective.”

“It’s a shifter thing. With a few exceptions—” Max’s gaze momentarily unfocused. “What happened?”

With any other person, Vivienne would’ve shut herself off. Max was different. Genuine interest, not malice, fueled his questions.

“Forget I asked. I was out of line.” He raised his hand and gave her an apologetic smile.

“No, it’s okay,” she hurried to say. “It’s not a secret or anything.” And if they kept seeing each other, her story would come up sooner or later. Vivienne didn’t like to talk about her past, but sometimes to go forward, one had to take a step back.

“You don’t have to say anything.” Max took her hand in his and softly squeezed.

“You know that I’m a half-breed,” she blurted out. It was a long story, and she had to start from the beginning.

Max nodded.

Vivienne took a long breath. “Five years ago, I was in a car accident. It was Saint Patrick’s Day, and I was driving home after bar hopping with friends. I wasn’t drunk or anything,” she added, not wanting him to get the wrong idea.

Caressing her wrist, Max gave her another smile, this one filled with encouragement.

She took another bracing breath for the next part. “I didn’t drink at all that night because I was pregnant.” Her hand went to her flat stomach. It was an automatic reaction every time she remembered that horrible night. “Jack and my boyfriend, Luke, were in the car. I was the designated driver.”

Max’s eyes were now pools of amber, his touch soft and gentle against her hand.

“I was on the old 520 Bridge when a car coming from the opposite direction invaded my lane, hitting my small Kia. The impact was brutal and sent my car against the guardrail. One moment, Jack and Luke were drunkenly singing along with the radio. The next, we were hurtling into Lake Washington. It was all so fast, there was nothing I could do.” She slumped her shoulders.

Even after five years, remembering the events of that horrific night stung.

“You went into the water,” Max said.

“That would have been ideal.” She shook her head. “But no, it didn’t happen that way.”

How many times had she asked herself what if? What if the driver had hit them half a mile north of there where there was only water underneath the bridge? What if she had let Jack and Luke drink another beer as they had begged her, and left that last pub later? What if she hadn’t sped to catch a yellow light before it became red on Aurora Avenue?

Max’s feather-light brush brought her back to the present.

Vivienne shivered. “They had started building the new bridge, and there was a concrete platform underneath us, not water. The Kia crashed against the platform, shattering us, quite literally. Jack shifted into his wolf and dragged Luke and me out before fainting. I wasn’t conscious and couldn’t shift—”

She didn’t need to explain the rest. Half-breeds inherited both parents’ genes. Although she was stronger than a mortal and could shift into her she-wolf, her animal was small and couldn’t heal as well as a pure-breed. Thanks to her wolf side, she was still alive, though.

“By the time the rescuers arrived, Luke was dead,” she said. “He was mortal.”

What if she hadn’t been unconscious and bit Luke? Maybe he would have survived the transformation and his wolf would’ve healed him.

“You couldn’t have done anything for him,” Max said as if reading her mind.

She continued, “The damage to my body was extensive. My small wolf tried her best to heal me, but it was too much for her. I lost my baby.” Her hand pressed harder against her stomach. “And I won’t ever be able to carry another one.”

The pain and guilt she carried in her heart weighed like a boulder pressing against her chest. The first few months after the accident, Vivienne sometimes couldn’t breathe at all.

“I’m so sorry.” Max hugged her. His embrace was soft and warm, filled with acceptance. Not pity. Not judgement.

For the first time in years, she lowered her shield, the façade she had built to survive, and let the tears fall as she leaned against his chest.

“I’m so sorry,” he repeated lower, kissing the crown of her head. His hands caressed her back in large circles.

His strong, protective presence succeeded where countless sessions with her PTSD counselor failed. Vivienne cried for her baby boy and Luke as Max rocked her slowly, giving her the support she needed.

Several minutes later, she leaned away to give him a soft kiss on his cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Wilson entered soon after carrying a handful of snacks. From his soft gaze and sympathetic expression, it was clear he had been waiting in the hallway for a while, giving Vivienne time to collect herself. She couldn’t help but be grateful for his tactful thinking.