Devon sank into his chair and rotated around so he could watch the falling snow through the window. “Yeah, you can give me some advice. I have to get her back, Rafe.”
There was a prolonged silence. Then Rafael blew out his breath. “Okay, well the first question. Do you love her? Or is this more of a ‘you’re not leaving me because you’re pregnant and we should stay married’ type thing?”
Devon swore. “I love her. I screwed up but I love her. Not that she’ll ever believe me. I messed up so bad with her, Rafe. I make you and Ryan look like choirboys.”
“Oh boy. That’s bad. That’s really, really bad.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Well, I’ll tell you like a certain gentleman once told me when I was standing around with my thumb up my ass wondering how the hell I was going to get Bryony to forgive me. Either go big or go home.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It means you need to pull out the big guns. Do something huge. Make a gesture she can’t possibly misunderstand. And then get on your knees and grovel. Trust me. The first time on your knees sucks, but if she takes you back, you’ll spend the rest of your life on them anyway so better get used to it now.”
“If she’ll take me back, I’ll gladly stay on them,” Devon muttered.
“It pains me that I can’t even give you hell about falling hard like the rest of us poor schmucks you liked to rag on. You’re too pathetic to pick on right now.”
“Gee thanks,” Devon said dryly. “Don’t you have a daughter to go take care of? She probably needs a diaper change or something.”
“She’s sleeping with her mama, but yeah, I’m going to get back to my family. It’s the best feeling in the whole world, Dev. Get your ass out there and get your family back where they belong.”
“I will. And thanks, Rafe.”
“Hey, no problem, man. Anytime.”
Devon slid the phone back into his pocket and pondered his friend’s advice. Go big or go home. Pretty solid advice. Now he just had to figure out how big to go. There was absolutely nothing he wouldn’t do to convince Ashley to give him another chance.
Twenty
Ashley sat on Pippa’s couch, curled underneath a blanket as she sipped hot tea and watched it snow. It had snowed for the last two days, leaving a heavy blanket over the city. She longed for the comfort of her own apartment…or rather Devon’s apartment. She bleakly considered that it had never really been her home. But she missed it all the same. Nights like tonight she and Devon would have snuggled in front of the fire and watched a movie.
“Hey, chickie,” Pippa said as she settled down the couch from Ash with a bounce. “How are you feeling? Nausea still a problem?”
It was probably the pregnancy hormones—that was what she was blaming anyway—but she got positively weepy over how protective and caring Pippa had been ever since Ashley had moved in. Or sort of moved in, since Ashley hadn’t yet worked up the nerve to get her things from Devon’s apartment. Instead she’d been borrowing clothes from Pippa. But soon—as in tomorrow—she was going to have to brave going.