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My heart thrilled. It never stopped, that feeling when Sofia used the D-word to address Xavier. For all four years of her life, I’d never told her who he was, believing at the time that he had abandoned me for another woman. I hadn’t known the whole story, of course. That his former fiancée was only a friend, Lucy. That she had had cancer and never really wanted to marry him in the first place. And that she’d died shortly after he’d gone back to help her.
How could I have known? I’d never tried to contact him, either.
When he’d returned to New York last winter, I’d been terrified all over again, not just of being hurt myself, but that he would hurt Sofia too. My own heartbreak—I could handle that. But hers? Never. But despite the fact that he was definitely still learning the ropes of parenthood, Xavier had turned into a surprisingly gentle and devoted father. And once Sofia had learned who he really was to her, she hadn’t looked back either.
Daddy, he was now. Daddy, he would always be.
“Hello, darling.”
Xavier grinned at her too, the blinding brightness of his smile making her squeal. She wriggled out of my arms and climbed into his lap, still clutching Tyrone by the horn. Yeah, the last weeks apart hadn’t done much to quell her enthusiasm for her dad.
As for us…well, it wasn’t quite as clear.
On the last night I’d seen him, Xavier had told me in no uncertain terms that he loved me. It had been the night of his restaurant opening in New York. Chie was an homage to his love for his daughter…and, as he confessed that night, for me.
They didn’t work without me, he said. He needed me. Loved me, even.
And then he promptly had to return to London, though not without inviting us to join him when we could.
At the time, it felt like all my dreams were coming true. Since then, however, despite daily phone calls for Sofia, check-ins, and text messages, he hadn’t said the words again. Apparently, we were at the “I love you” pronouncement stage but not at the generic type before the end of a phone call. Definitely not at the phone sex stage—not when we hadn’t even had a real date yet.
And so there was this odd tension. It was a strange feeling to be sitting next to a man I had slept with exactly twice since he had walked back into my life, fantasized about nearly every night since (and, let’s be honest, a whole lot of nights prior), who had told me once he loved and adored me…without knowing at all how to act around him.
Xavier extracted one of his hands and squeezed mine, almost as if to say, “me too, babe.” I offered a slight smile in return, but the discomfort remained. Was it selfish of me to want a hug too? I also could have used a kiss hello. Hell, I wanted a lot more than that.
I just had no idea how to ask for any of it.
That’s one thing they never tell you about motherhood. It becomes almost impossible to ask for things for yourself when you spend almost all your time anticipating the needs of others.
“‘If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more,’” I murmured to myself as I gazed toward the blocked traffic.
Over Sofia’s head, Xavier quirked a black brow. “Another quote?”
I blushed. “How did you know?”
“You had that dreamy look on your face,” he replied. “Who were you pretending to be now, then?”
I reddened even more. I had forgotten about his annoying habit of reading even my daydreams so easily. No one else in my life had ever figured out my tendency to pretend I was the heroine of my own romance novel.
“Emma,” I admitted.
“Is she hot?”
I rolled my eyes. “She’s a book character. Although that particular quote was spoken by her true love, Knightley.”
Xavier rolled his eyes. “Wanker.”
Sofia chuckled and whispered “wanker” into his shoulder.
“Oh my God,” I said. “Don’t be jealous of a fictional character.”
Xavier just leered. “Ben, let’s go,” he called to the driver, though he made no move to release Sofia.
Obediently, Ben started the engine and flipped on the blinker as he looked to move into the outgoing traffic. Still, Sofia lay in Xavier’s arms, happily singing a song under her breath that sounded a lot like the arrivals jingle in the airport crossed with “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.”
“Xavi, um…” I gestured at the two of them as the car began to move.
Xavier looked up sweetly. “What’s that, babe?”
