"You've got the floor, Mr. Ryder," I said ceremoniously.
Pressing one final kiss to my knuckles, he lowered our hands to his lap. "I walked out on you Saturday night because I was scared, too, Luce," he said. "I was scared of the reasons you'd kept it from me in the first place. I was scared that you would forever resent me for getting you pregnant. I was scared that I didn't have what it takes to be a father. I was scared of so much, but what I was mostly scared of was losing you." His voice was tight as his eyes lowered to my stomach. "And losing our baby.
"I ran that night because I was scared, and the fact that I ran away when you needed me most made me even more scared. So that's what I've been thinking about nonstop, all day, every day, since Saturday night. And you want to know what I came up with?" he asked, leaning his forehead into mine. At this proximity, his eyes took up my whole field of vision.
"What?" I said, almost kissing him because our mouths were that close.
"That it doesn't matter why I ran," he said, staring at me without blinking, "because I came back. I'll always come back, Luce. No matter how many rip-roaring fights we have and no matter how many miscommunications we have. I'll always come back because you're where I belong."
"That's quite the revelation there, Ryder," I said. "You have a lot of those, don't you?"
"I didn't get this far with you without having a good epiphany knock me over the head once in a while."
"So," I said, "anything else or can we just kiss and make up now?"
His forehead left mine. "One more thing," he said, as his face wrinkled. "Are you worried I'm going to be the kind of dad mine was?" I could tell he was trying not to show how hard these words were to get out, but I'd seen this man through four years of life's highs and lows.
"I meant what I said Saturday, Jude," I said, trying to erase the worry lines from his face with my fingers. "That has never been one of my concerns. Ever, and you want to know why?" I fed him back his line.
"Why?"
"Because you're aware of it, because you're worried about it. That fear of becoming your father will drive you to be the best father you can be," I said, watching the first batch of wrinkles vanish from his face. "You know what would worry me, though? If you were overwhelmingly confident you could never become him. If you were so positive you could never in a million years be like him, I'd be worried that kind of confidence would make you lazy. Make it that much easier to fall into the traps when the hard times came." I stopped to take a breath. I was really on a roll, but I had a lot to say. "But that's not how you are, and that's why I'm not worried. And, Jude? I wouldn't pick another man if I had the whole entire world to choose from to be the father of my baby."
The last remaining wrinkles ironed out. "Dammit, woman," he said, "you keep saying that kind of stuff and I'm going to shed another tear." Leaning in, he kissed me again, but this one lasted longer than the last, although it was still too short for my liking.
"So we're good now? Everything off our chests that needs to be off them?"
Like the twisted guy he was, his eyes drifted to my chest. A wide smile appeared.
I shoved him in reply.
"So maybe I've got one more thing to get off my chest."
"There's always one more thing with you and me."
"Yeah, but this will tide me over for a while if you agree to it," he said, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Are you nervous?" I said, shocked. The last time I could remember him visibly nervous had been on the fifty-yard line, when he'd asked me to . . .
"Marry me, Luce," he started, blowing out a breath. "I need to do what I can to make this whole thing right, and the way I know how is to make us a family."
"We are a family, baby," I said, wondering if he was going to rub the skin raw on that neck of his.
"I know we are, but I want to be the kind that can frame their wedding certificate and hang it above the fireplace," he said. "I want our little girl to have a mom and a dad who are committed to each other, married to each other. I want her to have the stable, nurturing environment I didn't have. I want you to be my wife and me to be your husband for our little girl, Luce, but I'd be lying if I didn't admit I have selfish reasons for wanting to tie the knot with you."
"You have a right to be selfish," I said, grabbing his hand and pulling it away from his neck. "You've been a patient man with me for three years while I kept up the whole 'soon' thing."
"Yeah, I don't think your idea of 'soon' is going to work, Luce. I don't want our daughter to be old enough to get hitched before we do." His nose wrinkled. "Wait. What the hell am I saying? Our daughter is never going to get married. She's never going to date. In fact, she's never going to know what a boy even is, because I'd lose it if she brought home a guy like me."