“I love you, Little Thunder. I know it doesn’t fix anything. I love you even though I’m terrified you won’t let me.” He reaches for my hand but stops. “I’m just asking you to let me stand here with you.”
Chapter 29
Liam
Roxy swallows.
She licks her lips.
Her chest rises and falls.
After what feels like several lifetimes of torture, she turns to the road. “Let’s go.”
I watch her profile for a beat. The slight lift of her chin. The tremor in the vein of her neck. The sharp cheekbones that I want to caress.
The way her fingers don’t stop moving, her thumb rubbing the edge of her palm like she’s sanding herself down to a level of calm.
I want to reach out and reassure her that my declaration doesn’t change anything.
Only that would be a lie.
Everything changed tonight. I went behind herback. Not the smartest move, but as I was sitting in the coffee shop across the street, I realized one thing.
Roxy Moretti Lock will cling to her sense of control, whether it’s good or bad for her. That’s why she walked into the restaurant without me.
Control isn’t stubbornness for her. It’s survival. It’s autonomy. It’s her armor. If I crack it, she’ll bleed.
Stripping her of a choice is a mistake that would cost me her trust. But then, I don’t have it yet.
So I made some calls. I called in favors, and I got that birthday present for her father.
Not because I wanted her gratitude. Not because I needed Victor’s approval. Not to score points with her or him.
To show her I can be on her side. I can be there to find solutions to her problems. I can be there to cheer her on. I can be useful without being a weapon.
Have I chosen the best avenue? Only time will tell.
“What are you waiting for?” she asks, her hands cradling her belly.
The memory of our child’s heartbeat echoes in my head—the grounding reminder that has been sustaining me these past weeks—a furious little staccato I can’t unhear.
And to the rhythm of that memory, I decide to be patient.
Patience is what I have cultivated over the pastdecade. It turns out it wasn’t for the revenge. The discipline. The waiting. The bite-my-tongue-until-it-bleeds restraint.
It prepared me for this moment.
No more men deciding for her.
Not while I’m here.
Even if it kills me. God help me.
We drive to the heliport in silence. We board the bird in silence. We fly in silence.
The helicopter’s vibration climbs up my spine and sits behind my ribs. The headset crackles. The rotors drown out the city.
Roxy stares out the window, as if the skyline owes her an apology.
