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“Makes sense you’d find a way.”
He nods. “And your family will pay for this, Harper.”
I tilt my head. “For hiding the baby?”
“Jesus, for notsupporting you.For not doing everything they could for you. It’s not like you got knocked up by some high school boyfriend in the back of his dad’s car, but even if you did, you didn’t deserve how they treated you.” He hangs his head. “And I’m sorry. I really am.”
I get up and march around the room, my heart pounding a crazy beat in my chest. Outside the window, the moon is rising, beams of moonlight glowing on the grass. A shadow crosses his features, and he pats his lap. “Come here.”
I walk to him, unsure of what he’ll do, but the apology is a good first step.
Psychopaths don’t apologize.
Sociopaths don’t apologize.
Narcissists don’t apologize.
He isn’t any of those things. He’s a flawed human, like the rest of us.
When I reach him, he pulls me onto his lap. I sit and lay my head on his chest. “I knew you were hiding something, I justdidn’t know what,” he says, as he plays with my hair. I love it when he plays with my hair. He runs his rough fingers through it, combing it out. Silently, he separates it into three sections and gently begins to braid it. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”
“Hmm. The day I met you, maybe? I don’t know, there was something about you stealing me from my home and manhandling me into the back of your car that didn’t make me oh-so-eager to divulge my darkest secrets. Or the day after, when I woke up handcuffed and bound in bed? Also not super feeling the trust factor. Let’s remember, we haven’t known each other for that long. The only reason I don’t hate you is because you’re really good in bed.”
He nuzzles my head and breathes in deep. “Good in bed. That sounds almost like an insult.”
“You can’t take that as a compliment? That’s your problem, then.”
His fingers tighten at my scalp and give my hair a little tug. “You slapped me, and I let that go because I deserved it.Thistime. Don’t take that to mean you can do whatever you want going forward, woman.”
I shiver at the hint of a threat in his voice and half wish he didn’t have such a hold on me like that.
“I suppose I can behave myself since you’re suitably repentant.”
Still, I’m not sure where this leaves us. Leavesme.My baby doesn’t live far from here, and it would be a full-on scandal to bring her?—
“Show me a picture.”
My heart races. “You want to see a picture of the baby?”
“And tell me her name.”
A lump forms in my throat. I nod and pull out my phone. Log into the secure cloud app where I keep all her photos. Serves me well, now that I don’t have access to my old phone anyway.
My eyes grow misty when I open up the folder with her pictures. Bright blue eyes the color of cornflowers, pink-tinged chubby cheeks, her face spread wide with a grin. Messy pigtails with wisps of hair escaping make her look adorably tousled.
“The day I had her, there was ivy outside the hospital window. I didn’t want her to have a family name. I wanted something different but not too outlandish, so…her name is Ivy.”
“Ivy,” he says reverently, pronouncing each syllable in his accent. “I like that. Ivy’s resilient and sturdy but delicate all at the same time.”
I blink and swallow. “Yeah.”
“She’s absolutely beautiful,” he says, still in awe. “She looks like a little angel.”
“Oh, she can have her moments,” I say, a little too loudly to cover up the shake in my voice.
“It’s a two-year-old’s job to act like a terrorist,” he says with a shrug. “I have younger siblings and cousins. You should’veseenPolina when she was younger.”
That makes me giggle. “She’s fierce now. I can’t imagine what she was like when she was younger.”
