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Which would also make it impossible for him to be lying about the auction. There’s no way he’d bring me there to sell me, and actually go through with it, only to… to… I don’t know if “romance” is the right word, but whatever it’s called, Demyen went through a lot of effort to make this happen.
He came for me.
He saved me.
I’m so lost in my own thoughts that I completely forget to pull on the shirt before Gloria arrives with a tray laden with breakfast food, juice, and coffee. Thankfully, Demyen positions himself in the doorway so she can’t see past his broad shoulders. They chat for a bit in hushed tones; I’m sure at least part of it must be about me.
Demyen thanks her for the food and waits for her to leave, then shuts the door and brings the tray over to the nightstand. Hotcakes and bacon, fresh strawberries, and whipped butter in tiny little cups beckon me with their warm scent.
Well, except the bacon.
Which is weird, because Ilovebacon.
Ah, shit. I bet it’s the pregnancy. A similar thing happened when I was pregnant with Willow; I didn’t go full vegetarian, but chicken breast was basically the only meat that didn’t make me vomit for the first six months.
I reach for the orange while Demyen starts munching on the bacon. Good—maybe he won’t notice or ask questions that I’m not ready to answer.
He hands me a mug of coffee. Is coffee okay this early in the first trimester? I can’t remember. Maybe if I just pretend to sip on it. That shouldn’t harm anything, I think.
“Thank you,” I say with a small smile. I’ll at least hold it in my hands for a while and breathe in the rich aroma. If he asks, I’ll explain the delay with “it’s too hot” or something like that.
Demyen grabs his phone off the bed and flips through it for a silent minute. Then he turns it to me.
On the screen is Willow, talking Bambi’s ear off while the woman braids her hair.
“She’s doing well in school,” Demyen adds while I watch my baby girl get ready for the day. “Her teachers absolutely adore her. There was some concern with her, while you were gone…”
My stomach knots.Don’t cry. Not right now. You’re doing good.
“But the school counselor has been working with her. Made good strides with her adjustments, and now that you’re back…” He drinks his coffee. I get the feeling it’s more to calm his own nerves than to actually drink something. “When you’re ready, I mean. She’ll have a lot to update you on. She’s got a big painting she’s working on. I know she’ll love to show you.”
I need to pull my shit together first. I need to be the best mother possible, despite all the circumstances.
At least I feel less disgusting. I can’t smell that monster anywhere, and aside from the raised keloid bumps on the back of my thigh, he’s all but gone from my body.
I never thought I’d be grateful that scar is located where it is. It’s out of sight, and that’s what matters.
I hand the phone back to Demyen. “Thank you. For taking care of her.” I don’t have better words to describe the immense, overwhelming relief flooding my soul to see my daughter so safe, healthy, and cared for.
By him. By Demyen.
“Yeah, well…” He sighs and plops into his chair, taking another sip of coffee. “I owe her. I was a complete asshole to her and she didn’t deserve any of that. I’ll be making up for it for a very long time.”
“I’m sure she’s already over it by now.”
He shrugs. “Maybe. Maybe not. I know I’m not, so that’s the timeline we’ll go by.”
My heart squeezes. Did I ever think I’d find a man who could love my daughter the way I love her?
God, please—even if nothing happens between us… please let him be everything Willow needs in a father. Please let him be everything this new baby needs in a father.
“Anyways.” He drums his fingers on the armrest. “We should probably talk.”
He’s right. I know he’s right. I totally agree with him.
It doesn’t mean Iwantto.
“Okay.” I sniff my coffee and take a microscopic sip.Dammit, Gloria made me my favorite brew with the exact amount of sugar I always use. “Where should we start?”
