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“Happier than I’ve ever seen her before.”
With that, he turns, leaving me to my thoughts.
She’s going to tell me she wants to live her life without me. I can feel it in my gut. I exhale. I’ll give her what she wants, but we’re going to have to figure out custody of our child. Glancing at my watch, I head to the bathroom. Seb is right. I need a shower.
* * *
At seven on the dot, I’m at Ari’s door, knocking. She opens it, smiling up at me. I look her over, unable to speak for a moment.
“Wow. You look…wow.”
She’s wearing a white milkmaid’s dress with a bright pink bow. My hand itches to untie it, but I don’t move.
She says, “You look nice, too. Come in. The food was just delivered.”
I follow her into the suite, closing the door behind me. The table is set for two, and I pull out her chair before taking my seat. She lifts the lid to her plate, and I do the same. I’m surprised to see steak, asparagus, and potatoes.
“My favorite.”
“I know. I figured since you were making sure I was getting all of my favorites that you should get yours, too. There’s red velvet cake for dessert.”
We both eat in silence, which is fucking killing me. I’m about to say something when she puts down her fork.
“I’ve debated what I wanted a lot over the last few weeks. Marrying John and gaining financial freedom has given me opportunities that I didn’t have before, you know? Before, I would have told you I forgave you and that we could work things out.”
My chest is tight. “And now?”
“Now, I have to be smarter.” Her hand goes to her stomach. “It’s not just me that I’m thinking of.”
“I know.”
She stands, crossing the room. A moment later, she comes back with a folder and hands it to me.
“I had this drawn up. These are my terms, Kieran Van der Zee. You can either accept them or you can walk out of my room and never speak to me again.” She bites her bottom lip. “Read it carefully. Once you sign it, there’s no backing out. I’ve made sure of it.”
Opening the folder, I see it’s a contract. I skim over the terms, reading each one slowly to ensure I don’t miss a word. With each page that I turn, my heart soars. When I’m finished, I start over, rereading each section.
“These are non-negotiable?”
She nods. “Correct.”
“You want a wedding on the beach? I accept, but only if you wear a dress similar to the one you have on now.”
Her cheeks are pink. “I can do that.”
“I also agree that the wedding should take place before the child is born. If you’re open, might I suggest that we wed here?”
“Here?”
“There’s a beach. Everyone who is important to us is here. Why wait?” Before she can respond, I move to the next section of the contract. “You’re requesting one date night a week? I’d like to change it to two.”
“Done.”
“Section three states that we will take at least two family vacations per year and two solo trips. That’s acceptable.” I tap the paper. “Care to elaborate on section four?”
Her lips twitch. “You can read. I think it’s very clear what I want.”
Section four is all about the milking room, and how we are to maintain our time in there.
