“Okay?” Juliana asked her, and she nodded again.
I tried to place my hand on her lower back as I escorted her toward the exit, but she stepped ahead. I smiled at the employees we passed, trying to reassure them that everything was okay. But every second that passed without Lauren looking at me, every time she pulled away from my touch, the pit in my stomach grew.
I opened the passenger door, and she climbed in. Alone in the car, every noise seemed magnified—every sigh, every breath. I ached to touch her, but I knew better. I was grateful she’d even agreed to come with me.
When we arrived at home, I let her inside, overcome with emotion. She belonged here just as much as I did. And seeing her in the space again filled me with a sense of rightness. If she didn’t forgive me, I didn’t know what I’d do.
“Do you want anything to drink? Wine, perhaps?”
She shook her head, taking a seat on the couch. I joined her, wishing I could sit closer.
“How’s Riley?” I asked, trying to ease into the conversation.
I’d missed Riley more than I ever would’ve expected. When Lauren had left, she had taken all of my heart with her.
“She’s good.” Lauren smiled, seemingly more at ease. “She misses you.”
I peered into her eyes and wondered if she was referring more to Riley or herself. I hoped both were true, but I knew it was probably just wishful thinking.
Still, I met her gaze and said, “I miss her too,” meaning both of them.
My house just wasn’t the same—wasn’t a home—without Riley’s paws scraping against the floors. Lauren’s scent wafting through the house. The flowers she always kept fresh.
“First of all, I’m sorry I lied. It was never my intent to hurt you.”
“But you can understand how it did, right? Especially after what I shared with you about my father. I’d never shared that with anyone else.”
I nodded solemnly. “I do. And I will always regret how I handled everything.”
If nothing else, I needed her to understand that.
“I met Mia last summer and slept with her once. Then, like any other one-night stand, I never saw her again, never expected to.”
I took a deep breath, relieved that she was still listening, even if I could tell it pained her to do so. Her body was rigid, like she was bracing for impact. I hoped my words would alleviate her stress, her fears. I hoped more than anything they’d bring us back together.
“So when she showed up at my hotel on New Year’s Eve, pregnant, and claiming I was the father, I was shocked.”
Understanding lit her gaze. “So that’s what you meant when I asked if you saw her when you were in New York?”
I nodded. “I didn’t sleep with her, but you left before I could explain.”
“Apparently that’s my MO,” she muttered, but I still heard it. Wondered what it meant.
“Still—” Her gaze hardened. “You had other opportunities before that night to tell me.”
I’d expected that response, but it didn’t make it any easier to answer.
“I know this is no excuse, but I was in shock. Denial. Whatever you want to call it. I was so convinced the baby wasn’t mine—and I was right. But that was all I could see.”
“You know I would’ve understood if you’d told me. But the fact that you kept it from me…” She shook her head, disappointment radiating off her in waves.
“I should’ve told you, yes. But you’d finally opened up to me, trusted me. And I didn’t want to fuck that up.”
“That’s ironic,” she said with a humorless laugh.
“Yeah, I know.” I swallowed. “My reasoning was clearly faulty, and if I could go back and change it, I would. That said—” I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees. “I’m an excellent learner. And I never make the same mistake twice.”
I inched closer, unable to stay away any longer. I needed to touch her, even if this was goodbye.
