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My entire being is smiling now. No tightness. Just joy.
“You’ve made your admiration pretty clear lately, yeah,” I say.
“Eva, I hope can you forgive me.”
Mercy, this man.
“Thank you for the apology,” I say, leaning forward to glide my hand up his thigh. The nubby fabric of his sweats feels soft and warm beneath my palm. “And thank you for adoring me just as I am. That is rare, and I’m not gonna lie, I love the way you make me feel. Another thing I won’t lie about—the way you broke up with me the first time? That really, really hurt. But do I wish things had gone down differently? Honestly, I’m not sure. Because I’m thinking that, without all that awfulness, maybe we wouldn’t have ended up here. Together again. Older and wiser and happier. And, in your case, changed for the better. Maybe this is the way our story was supposed to go all along.”
“I love that idea.” His brows curve upward, softening his expression. “It’s not my place to ask you to change your mind, E.” He grabs my hand, curling his fingers around my palm against his thigh. “But this is a hell of a lot more than just fun for me. I want to be around you. All the time. I want you to get to know my daughter. I want you to be here for breakfast every Sunday morning. Eva, I want to share my life with you. I’m sorry if that’s not what you want to hear…”
His words wrap around my heart. My throat. Squeezing my windpipe.
He wants to share his life with me.
My God, how did we go from dance floor dry humping to that in a matter of weeks?
I feel a smile tugging the corners of my mouth, even as I struggle to catch my runaway heart rate. I love the idea of sitting at this table every Sunday. I love the idea of being with Ford, and getting to know his daughter, and being a part of his big, beautiful life.
But is this kind of life—the family life—for me?
“No more apologies. There’s absolutely nothing to apologize for. You’ve been a total sweetheart this entire time. It’s more than just fun for me, too.” My heart is pounding. “I’ll be honest, everything you’re offering sounds really nice. I want to be with you, Ford. Just—let me figure out how, okay? I need to figure that out. It’s more than just us now, you know? Your daughter is in the picture. So I want to be one hundred percent certain—well, as certain as I can be—that this is the right move. I’m getting there, mentally. I’ve been giving it a lot of thought. But I’m still not at one hundred percent.”
“I appreciate you being honest.” He reaches over and tucks my hair behind my ear. “Take all the time you need. Not forever. Please, God, not that long. But I’m willing to be patient. And I promise—Eva, I promise I’ll keep your heart safe this time. Out of all the things you’re worried about, that shouldn’t be one of them. Okay?”
I nod, swallowing for what feels like the hundredth time today. “Okay. And I want you to know that you’re not the one doing the asking. I am. This is on me. I want to change, because—” Because I’m in love with you. “Well. I still can’t promise anything. But know I’m asking the question.”
Ford nods. His eyes are glassy. “Thank you for that. And thanks for breakfast. And the orgasms.”
“So many orgasms,” I say, laughing. “The ones I give you are pretty damn great, though, right?”
“Now who’s being cocky?”
“You’re rubbing off on me.”
His foot finds mine underneath the countertop. “I’d like to rub up on you again.”Chapter Twenty-ThreeEvaI’m in love with a man who’s offering me a life that absolutely terrifies me.
It’s a beautiful life. But it’s the kind of life that, until very recently, I was certain would crowd me into a corner, and force me to make compromises I swore I’d never consider.
Here I am, though. Considering. The compromises are different, but the idea is the same. Am I willing to risk my freedom to be with Ford and try this parenthood thing on?
Is motherhood really the trap—the end of the road—that I’ve believed it to be?
Or is it a beginning? Because while my head is demanding that I be smart, and that I stick to the plan I’ve always had, my heart is telling a different story these days.
It feels tender and achy. Open.
I am open to new possibilities in a way I wasn’t before. I just don’t know how to let go. How do you pull the trigger when you’re still so afraid?
How do you make a choice when there are so many unknowns you can’t control?
I chew over these questions for the next several days. It’s time to make a decision. I can’t keep Ford waiting like this. But I also don’t want to rush such a big move. With so many hearts on the line, I want to make sure I’ve considered every angle.
