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Anya hasn’t woken up. There’s brain activity according to the scans, but they can’t explain why she’s unresponsive. With everything so up in the air, I haven’t taken the leap with what Pa and I discussed a few days ago. It’s been impossible. Our days are filled with Rumi, the three Yorkies, and the brewery.
Since Bri’s in charge of event planning to keep everyone in town entertained—I feel like I’m the director of a cruise—we’re in charge of the furbabies. At night, we’re both so tired that we fall asleep watching tv. At least I can say we’re sleeping together again—even though it’s on the couch. My back is about to break, but who cares, as long as I can hold Siobhan at night.
A week after Mitchell arrives, he finally gets to meet Rumi. The moment is bittersweet. I’ve never seen a grown man cry so much, but the same might happen to me when I meet my children for the first time.
I just hope it happens during delivery, as they arrive for the first time in this world. Glancing at Siobhan, I know she’s going to be a great mother. It shows in the way she nurtures her niece and dotes on her. Even when she complains that I spoil her, she’s just as bad.
Caring for Rumi has given me something I never thought I could ever have, a need for children. A need for someone who’s the best part of Siobhan and me that I can love unconditionally—as I love her.
“What are you thinking?” Siobhan asks.
We’re sitting by the stairs, watching Mitchell interact with his daughter. There’s a therapist and a lawyer in the dining room. Who knew there was a child services office in Silverthorne Bay?
As I understand it, Fitz is making sure that even with a restraining order against Mitchell, he can see Rumi. He still has to stay three hundred feet away from Anya.
“This moment is precious and yet, a little sad,” Siobhan mumbles. “Imagine having to show that you’re not a monster when you were raised by one.”
“How bad was his childhood?”
“His mother died of cancer and he went to live with his father who was an abusive drug dealer,” she mumbles. “He came to us when he was fourteen. I was about eight. Nobody wanted him.”
“Your mom sounds like an amazing woman.”
She nods. “I was lucky to have her. She’s probably in heaven trying to figure out how to fix this mess.”
“The guardianship?”
“That, and Anya’s health. I wish she were here. She’d be happy about Rumi, and Mitchell being a dad, but sad because the little girl can’t have her father.”
Would she want me for her daughter? Am I even worthy of her? All I know is that… “I want one,” I say out loud.
“You already have a dad,” Siobhan says.
When I turn to look at her, she’s grinning. “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself. Just last night, you two were asking for more churros. I thought, maybe you were just having another healthy competition with Rumi.”
I kiss the top of her head. “Fair enough. I want a baby. One with your eyes and your smile. A family—our family.”
“What if it’s baby fever? There’s a kid here, therefore you want one.”
I hold the groan. This woman. She keeps finding reasons as to why I behave the way I do toward her. All of them are logical and have nothing to do with the love I have for her.
A love that’s as big as the universe—or maybe the multiverse if it exists.
It’s going to be harder than I thought to convince her that she’s my forever. The center of my dreams. She’s the infinite possibilities—the rest of my life.
“Stop making excuses as to why we can’t happen. If it’s because you don’t want us to have children, I’m okay with that. All I want is you.”
She makes an exasperated voice before saying, “You say it—”
“Because I love you.” I put my arm around her, pulling her close to me. “I’m in no rush, but I won’t let this go, Siobhan Walters. I want everything with you, but most importantly, I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want us to spend all our tomorrows together until we reach the edge of our lives.”
“You never give up, do you?”
I kiss her temple. “Tenacity is one of my best qualities. I always go for what I want.”
“This was supposed to be simple. You make no promises, and I won’t hand you my heart. It’s pretty mangled, you know?”
“We can make a deal. Let’s call this a new agreement.”
