Page 50 of Promise

“Really?” His voice cracks. His hand stills, fork pinning scrambled eggs on his plate.

“Really,” I whisper, my own heartbeat suddenly slowing, questioning if I want to know if the same is true for him.

He sets his fork down and blows out a breath, gripping the edge of the island between us.

“I haven’t been with anyone else either.”

“Why not?” I exhale in disbelief, like it can’t be possible that he’s been faithful. That this gorgeous hunk of a man wasn’t tempted by another. Or maybe it’s relief that he has been loyal. A strange rush of gratitude that his love language wasn’t spoken to someone else.

“Forever,” he moans, staring at me, hard and convicted.

For the rest of my life, he’d told me when he playfully proposed to me in bed. He only ever wanted to have sex with me. Forever.

I don’t know why I act coy or bashful, cheeks heating as I glance down at my own eggs, pushing them around with my fork.

“I’m sure there were tons of women interested in you, though.” Maybe he’d even been interested in them.

“If they were, I didn’t notice.” He leans forward, his mouth curling in a playful tease.

“Liar.” I choke around a quiet burst of laughter. I mean, look at him. All these years later, and he’s still the hottest man I’ve ever seen. Tight white tee. Those damn black sweatpants.

Like Vale called him, a tall glass of water. I have been thirst-deprived. And I’m suddenly so thirsty.

His expression sobers a bit. “Trin, I made you a promise, and I might have broken a few of them, but the big ones have always held true. I have been faithful to you. There has only ever been you.”

I lower my head, unable to fight a smile, unable to look at him.

“There has only ever been you, too,” I admit soggily.

“Trin.” He blows out a breath again, and I slowly glance up at him. “Let me hold you. Just one hug. Please.”

The depth of the plea has me nodding. I could use a hug right now, too. A familiar one.

He moves so quickly, I forget to set down my fork. Instead, I drop it, causing it to clang against my plate.

Mirabelle lets out a cry, but Dart has his arms around me, and I’m pinned in place against his chest. His nose is near my ear, and his breath is warm on my neck. Slowly, I slide my hands around his middle despite Mirabelle’s frightened cry.

She’ll be okay for thirty seconds.

Thirty seconds, that’s all I need.

I slip my hands up his back, feeling the tension in his muscles. He only tightens his arms around me. I breathe him in. Sturdy mountain pine, a whiff of asphalt. I close my eyes.

He always gave the best hugs.

Until he stopped hugging me.

I didn’t want to get lost in the past. I just wanted to breathe in these few seconds.

Pretend.

Pretend it all happened as we planned. Him and me and a baby.

Mirabelle continues to cry, and I pull back, breaking the embrace I wasn’t ready to release.

When I turn toward Mirabelle, I swipe at my eyes, realizing too late that they were wet. Dart remains close, his hand still on my lower back, as I lift Mirabelle from the seat. Then, he pulls us back to his chest. Wrapping his arm around both Mirabelle and me.

He presses a kiss to her head, closing his eyes so I can’t see.