After a long day of strolling down memory lane, just as the sun sets, I pick up the marker and finish this whole stupid game. Using one of Sarah’s white balloons, I send a final message up to Manda.
Manda, it took me long enough, but I think this will make you happy, and that might be the best reason of all.
I reach back, snagging the last balloon.
Sarah, I forgive you.
I rise to my feet, stretching my aching legs. Looking up, I whisper a final, “I love you,” and let them go. I don’t stand there to watch them fly into the sky. I have a woman and child inside who need me, and nothing will keep me from them ever again.
Fucking balloons.
I WALK back into my house hours after I walked out of it. I’m probably sunburned all to hell and back, I’m starving, and I need water something fierce, yet I only have one thing on my mind. I rush through the house, turning off the lights and locking the doors as I go. Finally, I reach our room and gently push the door open wide.
“Hey, you,” she says when her eyes immediately jump to mine. She’s sitting up watching TV, a million pillows propping her up
“I’m going to kiss you,” I start, and her eyes go wide. “Then I’m going to make love to you.” Her smile slides away as heat immediately fills her face. “And then we are going to make plans to spend the next one hundred years together.”
Just as quickly as it fell, her soft smile returns.
“You always do make good plans.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t think I’ll be able to say that enough. I pushed my own personal shit on you when you needed me. I’m so fucking sorry, Emmy.”
Her lip begins to quiver, but she bites it to hold back the tears. “It’s not all your fault. I might be a tad hormonal and have taken that out on you…a little bit.”
“A tad?” I smirk and walk over to sit on the edge of the bed. I reach out and wipe away her tears before cupping my hand against her cheek. She sways into my touch. “I’m sorry.” I repeat.
“You really are an ass, but I’ve missed you.”
And that’s it. I push my mouth against hers for an emotional kiss. One by one, I pull the pillows out from behind her until she’s flat on the bed. I strip away the blankets and step back just to look at her for a minute.
Stunning—that’s the only word I can use to describe the vision that lies before me. What I did to deserve her and the little boy growing in her belly, I will never understand. Emma was right. I need her. But right now, I really need to be inside her. The emotions buzzing around inside me are enough to make a man go crazy. I just need to show her—make her feel it too.
Grabbing the top of her yoga pants, I slide them down her legs. I take my time on the way down to appreciate her body—to appreciate her. She’s quiet and still, which is a little unnerving. Emma is always playing for the upper hand in the bedroom—always trying to capture control.
“You’re not going to argue with me? No smartass comments?”
“Not tonight.” She lifts her hips off the bed as I hook my fingers in her panties and drag them down her legs.
“Nothing?” I ask again.
“No. I have a suspicion you need to do this one your way.” She reaches out and rubs a hand up my arm.
Fuck. I love this woman. I look away long enough to man up when the emotion of her words overwhelm me. Life gave me a second chance, and regardless of how many times I almost screw it up, Emma is always there to help me pull it back together. I don’t deserve her, but I’m going to selfishly keep her for the rest of my life.
Sliding my eyes back to hers, I’m met with a staggering combination of lust and love. I crawl onto the bed beside her and push her T-shirt up and over her head with one hand. Letting my eyes travel down her body, I stop at the small bump of her stomach. Over the last three weeks, Emma has really popped. Gone is her perfectly flat stomach, but in its place is something even more amazing. It’s still so surreal to me that my son is growing in there. I run my hand tenderly over her bump, bending to place a small kiss near her belly button. I hear her whimper and my eyes immediately flash to hers, finding them full of unshed tears.
“What are you thinking right now?” I ask, sitting up to cup her cheek.
“I’m thinking I need you to be real this time. That I can’t do this drama with you anymore. I want you to be my life, but I have to be yours. I’m sorry if you feel trapped because of the baby, but—”
“What?” My head snaps back as if she slapped me.
“I just love you and—”
“Emmy, I think you’re confused about some things. I’m not trapped because of the baby. I want kids. I just wanted more time with you first. I’m not with you because I have to be. I’m with you because I will never in a million years be able to love someone the way I love you.”