AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“With our baby,” she rushes to say. “With our daughter.”
I uncross my arms, the feeling in them suddenly gone. “Our?”
“Our. Mine and yours.”
“Lex,” I warn.
Closing the distance between us, she grips my chin and pulls my head down to hers, our faces a breath apart.
“I’m sorry I lied. I’m sorry I was untrustworthy, but that’s not who I am anymore.”
“Don’t. Don’t get my fucking hopes up when I’ve spent years fighting to keep them down.”
Her lips brush mine, then against them she whispers, “Too late.” And it’s like the last two and a half years never happened as I give in, taking her face between my hands and kissing her full on the mouth. My tongue sweeps in to lick hers, making us both moan. During the entire length of my sentence, I didn’t know where I’d be going home to because I no longer had one, but this, this feels like home.
Shefeels like home.
It hurts to do it, it fucking hurts, but I end the kiss early to ask, “Where is she? Where’s my daughter?” My daughter. My. Daughter.
“She’s away for the night.”
“I don’t care. I want to meet her right now.”
“You want the first time your daughter meets you to be while you’re still wearing the stench of prison?”
“I’ll clean up. After that, take me to her.”
“She’ll be here in the morning, rook. You can meet her then.”
In the morning. She’s letting me stay the night. Is she letting me stay the night?
“What’s her name?”
Grabbing my hand, Lex pulls me out into the hall, past a couple doors to one that’s already open. She flicks the light on, revealing my daughter’s room.
There’s a circular crib in the middle, a custom dresser off to one side that has a 3D feature of flowers growing up the fronts of the drawers, a rocking chair in the corner, and a couple chests overflowing with toys. The walls are mostly black, the unconventional nursery color broken up by hand-painted Primroses in all different shades and sizes. Primroses symbolize safety, protection…
And love.
“She’s loved.”
I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t considered the possibility that Lex would be a detached mom. She couldn’t even say the word love and mean it before. But just being in this room, in this house, I can tell she’s far from detached.
“So loved.” She says it so easily I look over at her. She’s smiling. The first one of the night. And it’s real.
“I should’ve behaved better. I would’ve got out sooner. I should’ve—”
“We’ve both made a lot of mistakes, but Primrose isn’t one of them. We get to spend the rest of our lives making sure she knows that.”
“You named her Primrose?”
“Primrose.” She roams along the walls, trailing her fingers over the paintings. “A sign of renewal. A symbol of love. And a sincere confession.”
“Confession?” I haven’t heard that one before.
Stopping, she says softly, “‘I can’t live without you,’” then, “It killed me, Reece. Itkilledme. I didn’t know what broken was until you left.”
“I’m sorry,” leaves my mouth even though I never, ever planned on apologizing for my part in what happened. I did what I had tofor her.
