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I sat on the floor in the spare bedroom, trying to put the stupid wooden crib together. It came with a diagram and a bunch of screws, but nothing made sense. Every time I put two pieces together, it immediately came apart.
I got so angry I threw the tiny screwdriver at the wall. “Stupid motherfucker…” Couldn’t the baby just sleep with me?
Someone knocked on my door. It was faint, coming from the front door and down the hallway. I wasn’t expecting company, and all my deliveries were collected by the guys downstairs. I made it to the front door and checked the peephole.
Bartholomew.
Oh Jesus. I stepped back with my hand over my mouth, never expecting to see him again. Why was he there? What did he want?
“Laura?” His deep voice came through the solid wood.
Shit. “I just need a second…” I threw on a sweater even though it was early fall, and I tossed all the baby stuff into the spare bedroom. I shut the door so he wouldn’t be able to take a peek.
Then I opened the door, visibly flustered, and came face-to-face with the man I hadn’t stopped thinking about since the last time I saw him. He was still tall. Still handsome. Still hard as steel.
We stared at each other, and I wondered what he thought about me. I’d gained some weight with the pregnancy. Not a ton, but enough to make my face fuller, my thighs thicker. The sweater would hide the small bulge.
He continued to stare, looking at me like nothing had changed. “Can I come in?”
I always forgot to invite him in. Whenever I looked at him, I was glued in place. “Yeah.” I let him inside, and then we stood together in my big apartment, an apartment far too big for a single person. But I wouldn’t be a single person for long.
He took a quick look around then faced me again.
My heart gave out every time our eyes connected. “How’s your…?” I gestured to his torso, where he would carry a nasty scar for the rest of his life.
“I don’t feel it anymore.”
“That’s good.”
“How are you?”
“Fine.” All my priorities had changed the moment I knew I wouldn’t be alone anymore. Nothing else seemed important except getting ready for the little person who would share every moment of my life with me. When Bartholomew had told me hestill hated kids, I was devastated, and I’d sobbed when he walked out of my apartment. His rejection had hit me differently when I’d already felt the life growing inside me, a life he would never know. “You?”
“You already asked me.”
“I mean…with work…Benton.”
“It’s fine.”
Now we’d run out of things to talk about. “Did you come here for a reason…?”
His eyes burned into mine, deep and powerful, claiming me as his even though I hadn’t been his in a long time. “I came here for you. I want us to be together. This time apart…I can’t do it anymore.”
I saw the sincerity in his eyes, saw the man of my dreams pining for me, but instead of making me feel good, it felt like torture. “Nothing has changed.”
“I want to be with you—whatever your terms may be.”
My eyes flicked back and forth, excited but also confused. “I…I don’t understand.”
“What don’t you understand?”
“You just…changed your mind?”
“I realized any life with you is better than the one I have by myself.”
“But you don’t want kids. You made that very clear.”
He stared at me for a while, not blinking. “I feel differently now.”
