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Like a lump of wood, I remained at the doorway. Not because I wished to block him, but because he captivated me.
I felt his breath. Even worse, I caught a whiff of his libido-teasing scent. I still had a t-shirt he’d left behind, which I couldn’t bring myself to wash.
I stepped out of the way. “You better come in. I’ve been expecting you.” I rolled my lips into a tight smile to curb the quiver. “Excuse the mess.”
He followed me. “I don’t care.” His edginess made my shoulders tense.
“I suppose your mother told you?”
He raked his hands through his hair, almost tugging at it. His thick hair stuck up in all the right places. “She did. But she didn’t have to. I’ve thought about nothing else since hearing about the birth.” His thumb stroked his plump lower lip. “I would have liked to have been there.” His eyes drilled into mine, and I had to lean against the couch to steady my balance. “To hold your hand.”
“But you didn’t know whether he was yours. I didn’t know.”
“I don’t care.”
Our eyes locked. His frown seemed etched on his handsome face. I could see he’d been seriously affected, and guilt sliced through me for denying him that much.
A basket of freshly laundered nappies cluttered the couch. I moved them out of the way, even though he headed straight to the white cane crib. The same crib that I’d slept in.
My aunt Hermione, my late mother’s sister, took everything I didn’t think I would ever need. It was the closest my son would come to connecting to his grandparents. It pained me to think my parents wouldn’t get to see their grandchild.
As always after a feed, Cian was off deep in a peaceful sleep, totally oblivious to the emotional maelstrom around him. Ethan’s eyes lit up with wonder. That had been me, too, because my beautiful boy felt like a miracle.
“He’s a big baby,” he whispered. “Cian.”
“Yes. Cian Storm.”
His brow twitched slightly. He looked at me. “Sounds a bit dark.”
“No. It’s poetic.”
“My mother says he looks exactly like I did as a newborn.” Ethan tipped his head to the side to study the little cherub lost in sleep. “He’s beautiful.” I noticed his Adam’s apple wobble as he took a gulp.
His large, dark eyes had gone glassy. It took all my inner strength not to fall into his arms.
Like being reminded of hunger while eating a meal, seeing him again, close up, made waves of desire prickle across my skin. My heart grumbled at me for being such an imbecile for not allowing Ethan into my life due. I had this overwhelming urge to get down on my knees and beg his forgiveness. Tears pricked my eyes as Ethan stood absorbed by his son. He looked like he was going to cry.
If only I could rewrite the last twelve months.
I went to speak, then Cian opened his eyes. He looked at his father, and they had a staring competition. Ethan’s smile, the first since he’d arrived, filled that room with sunshine, and then my son smiled back.
I lost it. Collapsing onto the sofa, I buried my face in my hands and bawled. The struggle to contain myself intensified when Ethan sat beside me and wrapped his arm around my shoulders.
My eyes stung, and my throat burned as uncontrollable sobs burst out, like a water main had sprung a leak. The more I fought it, the louder I sobbed. The dam I’d built to hold back my grief burst, and the tears flowed like polluted rivers down my cheeks.
It wasn’t just how my irrational and suffocating paranoia had pushed Ethan away, but that I’d robbed him of the birth of his son. As all my bad choices tumbled before me in one endless, unforgiving reel, I asked myself if this was what a nervous breakdown looked like.
Or is it an epiphany? If so, what’s my lesson?
I knew the answer within a breath: stop wrapping myself in cotton wool, embrace that free spirit I’d always identified as, and join the everchanging dance of life with a brave heart.
I broke away from him and rubbed my eyes while muttering an apology. Ethan returned a sad smile and passed me the box of tissues.
I wiped my eyes and nose and ran my hands over my face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know what to do. I shouldn’t have shut you out, but you weren’t ready for this.”
His brow creased. “How do you know that? How is anyone ready for anything as dramatically life-changing? We just somehow manage.” He took a breath. “I’ve spent the past few months missing you. Theadora kept me informed on your health. I would’ve been there at the hospital, holding your hand.”
I gazed into his eyes, and my whole body seemed to shake. I took a stilling breath and cast my eyes on my chipped fingernails instead of his beautiful eyes.
