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A wave of relief seemed to move through her body. “That is actually good to know. It is unsettling. Not knowing what I don’t remember, and what I actually haven’t done.”
“Yes. I can see that.”
“I’m happy to be here with you. Really doing this for the first time.”
And even while she was pushing the pram, she let go of the handle, and wrapped her fingers around his. They had never held hands.
Not even when they were at the peak of this thing between them.
Holding hands was...domestic. They had never been domestic.
But here they were, with a child, strolling down the street like they might’ve been...normal. And it would make for exactly the sort of picture he had been trying to have taken, but for some reason he could not bear it.
Slowly, he withdrew his hand from hers, and he could feel a slight withdrawal coming from within her, but she said nothing.
“I have made an appointment for us,” he said.
“An appointment?”
And then he ushered her into the shop that was open only for them.
Her eyes widened when she looked around and saw all of the dresses hanging on the racks. Dresses that would fit her. He knew well how to shop for Riot’s body already, and he had taken that knowledge and sent it ahead to the designer.
“Since we are to be married. I thought it would be a good idea for you to begin the selection process for your gown. You can have semicustom of course, but all of these are available, and can be altered in any way.”
“I’ve never... I’ve never seen anything like this. And there’s no way... You can’t...”
“I’m a billionaire. I can do whatever I want. We could buy a plane and fly to space today if you wish. But I had thought we might start small. And with something that we actually need.”
“A wedding gown. I...”
And then she started to do something truly distressing. She began to cry.
And he didn’t know what to do. He simply stood there, frozen. And he was not a man who did loose ends. He wasn’t a man who did uncertainty. How did this woman continually put him in a position where he had no idea how he was supposed to react?
He had said nothing hurtful.
And she was weeping. Like a child.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s only that... No one has ever done so many nice things for me. And I am so heartbroken that I don’t remember meeting you. I think you changed everything. You did. I woke up from a coma and now I feel like I’m in a dream. You have given me...” And then she launched herself into his arms, her face pressed against his chest, and he could feel the moisture from her tears seeping through his shirt.
And he felt... He was on fire. He had not held her softness in his arms like this for nearly a year. This woman... This woman who had come into his life and upended everything... He had to watch her lie in that bed motionless for a month. He had her out of his life for eight months. It had been...torture. All of it, but this was no better. This was...
This was like nothing he had ever experienced before, and what he truly wanted to do was crush his mouth to hers and show her how things really were between them.
The intensity and the need. And do something to rid himself of the yawning ache at the center of his chest.
But he could only hold her.
“I’m sorry,” she said, wiping at the tears on her face.
“It was just so unexpected. You know my mother always treated me like an imposition.” She looked down at the pram. “I will never do that to her.”
Conviction took hold of him. And while he didn’t share anything about his father, his life, he wanted to share now.
And why not? In this new moment, when he was not the same man who she had run from that rainy night. But when he was the man who had heard of her pregnancy and reacted with joy. The man who had taken her into his arms and kissed her, who had proposed.
The man of the lie. Not the man he was in truth.
