Making His Baby(62)

“Okay, but my Aston Martin can only take so much.”

“Then we’ll just throw out whatever doesn’t fit,” I say quickly.

“Really?”

“I don’t think I can emphasize how serious I am being.”

He smiles and nods, keeping his eyes on the road. I reach across the car and stroke his face. As I do, he takes my hand, and kisses it. He is mine, and I am his.



***



“So, all of this, we’re throwing out?” He asks.

Piled in the middle of my apartment are stacks and stacks of my old things. There are clothes I never wear anymore, cutlery, crockery and other kitchen utensils I don’t need, and other bits and pieces I uncovered that I had forgotten I even owned. Essentially, it is all disposable.

“All of it,” I say.

I’ve already packed the car full of everything else that I need, and honestly, there isn’t that much of it. Most of the stuff that I do own and want is already at his, our, house. The rest is a remnant from a past life that I am eager to forget.

“Okay, so should I light them on fire here, or should I carry it outside? That way we can have a bonfire and dance around it while it burns?”

“Or option three. We can call someone to come and throw it out for us?” I suggest, trying not to laugh.

“Well, it’s not as fun, but it’s definitely more efficient.”

“Come on.” I walk across the apartment and scoop up a small box on the floor. “Let’s go.”

“Goodbye, apartment,” Blake says as he walks to the front door. “You won’t be missed.”

He walks out first, and I follow him. As I turn to close the door behind myself, I pause and look back into the small apartment that I once called my home. It’s funny, but I used to not mind this place, apart from how small it was. It was never impressive or grand, but it was my home, and for that, I loved it.

But now that I look at it, I see it for what it is. Cold, small and run down. Not the kind of place that anyone should have to live in. But I smile to myself when this realization hits me. The fact that although I once lived here, I no longer do. It’s a representation of my old life, of the person I used to be.

“Are you coming?” I hear Blake call from the car.

I take one final look inside the apartment, shaking my head as I close and lock the door. That part of my life is over. I walk down the sidewalk, seeing my man leaning against the car. He smiles and waves, and I smile and wave back. He is my new life, and I can’t wait for it to begin.





Epilogue


Six Years Later


CARRIE





“Are you doing okay?” Blake asks as he drives. He isn’t looking at me, but straight ahead at the road.

“Yeah, I’m fine. No. Better than that. I’m doing great.” There is a quiver in my voice, and even I don’t believe the words I am saying.

“Ah, I wasn’t asking you,” he says, smirking. “I was asking Ben.”

He glances into the back seat where our son, Ben, sits. Ben is five years old and, in my opinion at least, gets more gorgeous every single day. Like his father, he has all dark features, and his breath-taking blue eyes. I just know that when he grows up, he is going to rival his father in the looks department, too. But he has my smile.

“Oh, right,” I say, and I shake my head. “Of course. How are you doing back there, hon?” I lean back to look at him. “Everything is fine?”

“Yes, Mommy,” he says, and he giggles. “I’m excited!” He looks it, too.

I’m a nervous wreck and have been all morning. Well, I have been all week really. It’s Ben’s first day of kindergarten, and Blake and I are taking him there together. I try to tell myself that this is all part of the process and is actually a good thing, but I’m still having a hard time coping.

I just can’t believe how quickly time passes. It seems like only yesterday that I was at that reunion  . That I dropped those glasses, and Blake bent down to help me clean up. I still remember looking into his deep-set eyes and getting lost in them. I still remember how nervous I felt when I saw him, and how I couldn’t believe it when he asked me out.

It all felt like a dream. And to be honest, sometimes as I lay awake at night and watch him sleep, I pinch myself, just in case.

“And you, too?” Blake asks. He reaches across the car, takes my hand, and kisses it as he always does when he wants to make sure I am doing okay. “You’re fine?”

“Yes,” I say. This time, I sound more convincing. “Of course, I am.” I glance in the rearview mirror, catching Ben’s eyes. He giggles and I smile. I still can’t believe how lucky I am.