“It might be okay,” I said, mostly to myself. I wiped my tears with a trembling hand. “I don’t think I ovulate until the middle of the month. So if we use condoms now, I think we’ll be okay. We should. I’m pretty sure. I’m really sorry—there’s no excuse. I just…I have no idea how I forgot. I really don’t. I was looking for them two weeks ago, and meant to come back, and then it was my period week, so that was fine, and then, somehow…”
A hiccup interrupted my babbling. I sniffled and wiped my hand across my face. “I just remembered today. I was thinking about all the boxes behind me and then…”
I looked up through my lashes. Hunter stood motionless, staring at me with a straight face and rigid body. This was the expression and stance he used to distance himself from what was going on around him. Still he didn’t speak.
I let my shoulders slump as I swallowed back a sob. “You trusted me. I know that. I broke that trust. But please believe me, Hunter, I didn’t mean to. I really didn’t. I honestly don’t know how I could forget. I never forget about that kind of stuff. Not even when I’m not sexually active—I’ve never forgotten before.”
A sob racked my body as I withered within his stare. I threw up my hands helplessly. “I don’t know what I can do right now. What’s done is done. And I accept it if you—”
“Is it mine—would it be mine?”
“Wh-what?” I managed.
“If you did get pregnant. Would it be mine?”
My face dropped. I was incredulous. “What do you mean, would it be yours? Who else’s would it be?”
“That’s what I’m asking.”
“Of course it would be yours. I don’t think God plants babies in women like me.”
In a flash of memory, I realized why he was asking. The last time he thought he might be a father, it had actually been his dad’s baby. He’d been lied to, and it had killed him.
“Sorry—when you ask a question like that, it sounds like you’re accusing me of cheating. I mean…you are, but…I get why.” I wiped away another tear. “Yes, you’re the only man I’ve been with since the beginning. And before that I was on a dry spell, so if the worst happens, it’ll have your DNA.”
“I have your word? I trust you, Olivia, but I need to hear you say it.”
I huffed, fresh tears springing to my eyes. “You did trust me, yes. And look where it got you. But yeah, it’d be yours.”
I heard Hunter exhale before he gathered me up into his strong arms. “Okay.”
“What do you mean, ‘okay’?” I mumbled, curling up in his arms. I needed love right now. I needed support and encouragement, because I was terrified what might happen. What it would mean in my life.
“I mean that this is okay.” He pulled his upper body back and ran his fingers along my jaw line, applying pressure to make me look up. His eyes were soft and deep. “I love you. I didn’t think I’d ever love again, but since I first saw you, you pulled at me. You sucked me in. I can’t live without you, Olivia Jonston. I’ve found in you what I’ve always wanted in a woman. You turned me from a heartless bastard, living in a colorless world, into someone who sees the beauty in everyday life. You’ve taught me to feel again. I’ve never been this happy, in my life.”
More tears rolled down my cheeks, and not from fear this time.
He smiled and leaned down, kissing the trails of moisture. “My mother loves you, too. It took her the same amount of time to see in you what I do. She knew you had a hold on me from the first, and she knows I’ll never let you go.”
“I thought you were just waiting for me to realize you were awful and take off?” I huffed out a laugh.
He laid his hand against my cheek. “I’m afraid I’d follow you. I can’t let you go—it isn’t in me. You have me wrapped around your finger, and I’d bend whichever way I needed to make you happy.” He wiped my cheek with his thumb.
I took a deep, shuddering breath. “But what about the lack of protection issue?”
“I’m ready. I’ve always wanted kids—why not start now?”
I shook my head a fraction, the fear from a few moments before still coursing through me, but now love and joy were fighting it. “You’re supposed to be angry.”
He smiled and pulled me into his chest. “I’m not. Not at all. You’ve been stressed, busy—plus, you did ask me to help you get the box out. I knew what you were looking for, and I forgot all about it. So you see, it’s not just your fault.”