Chapter 8
CHAPTER 8
WILL
I stare at the door and try to muster the courage to knock. It’s already dark by now, and there’s a warm glow emanating from the door’s window. The lights are still on. Based on what I know about the kids’ schedule, they’re probably already asleep, but it’s still early enough that Sophie is unlikely to be in bed yet.
The air is crisp, cold enough to turn my breath into airy puffs on every exhale. I’ve been standing here for a minute already, still trying to convince myself that this is a good idea.
What else can I do? I know Sophie well enough to know nothing else will work if I want to change her mind. If I call her, she either won’t pick up at all, or she’ll hang up as soon as she realizes it’s me. If I text her, she’ll just block me. And even if I hadn’t deactivated my social accounts, I’m pretty sure she’s already blocked me on every platform she’s on. So, I’m giving it a try the old-school way, hoping I can get through her tenacious wall and help her see how she can get out of this situation as a winner.
That tenacity is one of the things I admire most about this powerhouse of a woman.
I finally knock, softly enough to avoid waking Julian if he’s asleep, but hopefully loud enough that she can hear. At first, no sounds come from the house, but a few seconds later there’s rustling and movement. I back away slightly so she’s not too close to my face when the door opens.
Wouldn’t want to get decked.
The door opens in one big swing, and I come face-to-face with Sophie. My shoulders drop, my breath steadies, and a warm, soothing wave spreads through my muscles. Her golden hair tumbles to her shoulders in a wild yet adorable way, and she’s wearing pink pyjamas that make her all the more adorable. She’s holding Julian against her chest with one arm.
And her huge blue eyes are staring daggers at me.
It only takes her a fragment of a second to realize it’s me at her door; in that time, she frowns deeply and begins closing the door. I act fast and jam my foot to block the door. I wince at the impact, but the pain doesn’t stop me.
I grab the side of the door with one hand. “I just want to talk,” I say, keeping my voice low and steady to make myself as harmless as possible.
Sophie narrows her eyes and clenches her jaw. “What the hell do you think you’re doing here?” she whispers, although the venom seeping through her tone is anything but quiet.
She’s furious.
But I expected this. If the situations were reversed, I’d act the exact same way. “May I come in?”
She gasps and presses Julian closer to her chest. I can’t pretend I don’t feel my stomach sinking. “Give me one good reason I should let you come in.”
“Okay.” I raise my eyebrows and point at the infant she’s clutching. “Him. You love him, correct?”
Her eyebrows scrunch in confusion. “What?”
I take a deep breath before I continue. If I want this to work, I must display an air of confidence and strength. I can’t waver, not even for one second. “You want what’s best for him. You want to free up your time and be able to keep growing your business so that this little boy—and your girls—don’t ever want for anything. Correct?”
She’s frowning again, her walls coming up. “What’s it to you?”
“The air is chilly,” I remind her with a tight-lipped smile. “Please, let me come in so your baby doesn’t get cold.”
Sophie rolls her eyes but finally backs up. She doesn’t open the door wider for me, though; she lets me do that all on my own. I recognize this as one of her power moves: she’s letting me in, but she’s made it clear that I’m not a welcome guest.
I don’t waste a second and shuffle inside, closing the door to keep the draft out. Immediately, I’m bombarded with a familiar smell. I haven’t been in this home for over a year, and even though Matt no longer lives here, the smell is the same: warm and comforting, clean, with just a hint of citrus.
And I’m close enough to Sophie that I detect her scent, too. Sweet and floral, threatening to veer me off course. For a moment, we both look at each other, her big eyes narrowed to slits.
Sophie breaks the moment by heading to the kitchen table a few feet in front of the entrance. She sits at a chair and carefully shifts Julian in her arms to get them both comfortable. Just as I thought, she’s not going to offer me coffee, or even water. Not that I would expect her to. She has too much self-respect for that.
I respect her for that, too.
“Get on with it,” she says, keeping her voice low.
I cross my arms and take two steps forward, just enough to get a bit closer without walking off the entrance rug with my boots on. Somehow, I don’t think she’d react very well to me getting comfortable enough to remove them. “I would ask you to strongly reconsider your decision not to move forward with the consulting package.”
She laughs without humour. Julian fusses at her chest, and she starts bouncing him gently. “There’s no way in hell I’m doing that,” she replies.
I take another deep breath and carefully consider my words. “Sophie,” I start, seeing her wince at the sound of her own name on my lips. “Rob showed me everything you want to do. These are really …”—I weigh my words—“lofty goals. Even for someone as talented as you. And with everything that’s happened in the last year …” Anger lights up her eyes, and I decide not to say anything more about that. “You’ve got a lot on your hands. Literally.” I gesture to Julian, who’s beginning to fuss more and more.
“You think I’m not capable?” Sophie stands, trying to position Julian differently so he’ll stop fussing. But this only elicits a small cry from the infant, followed by another, more insistent this time.
“I absolutely think you’re capable,” I reply, keeping my voice steady, even though I want to scream this at her so she’ll understand how much I mean it. “But anyone would be in way over their heads with everything you’ve got going on. That’s why you need us.” Why she needs me.
Or is it me who needs her more?
Sophie huffs. Julian’s cries begin to intensify, so she starts pacing back and forth near the table. “I don’t need anyone,” she spits out. “And even if I did … do you seriously believe I’d go crawling to you, of all people?”
The image of Sophie crawling to me sends a shock through my system. No part of me believes she’d ever ‘crawl’ to anyone, but I can’t pretend I wouldn’t at least slightly enjoy that sight.
Knock it off, man. That’s not what you’re here for.
“I don’t expect you to crawl to anyone,” I tell her. “I don’t know why it’s so difficult for you to admit a little help might be nice.”
Shit. That was the wrong thing to say. And as I see the dagger appear in her eyes again, I know I’ve messed up.
Why do I keep saying the wrong thing? I am completely off my game today.
This woman does things to me I can’t explain.
“You’d like that way too much,” she says, chuckling dryly. Her eyes keep darting to Julian, who won’t stop crying. “Shhh, Mommy’s here,” she whispers to the infant in a sudden shift of tone. That gentleness and sweetness in her voice pulls at my heart.
“Of course I’d like that. But not for any nefarious reason,” I argue. “Is it so hard to believe I want to see your business succeed? I’ve helped several businesses like yours do exactly what you’re trying to do, Sophie. I know how to get there. I 100 percent believe you could accomplish it on your own, eventually … but you’d be stuck figuring it out for the first time, which would take you much longer. And that’s without mentioning the extra load you have to carry.” I gesture to Julian again. “Case in point.”
“He wasn’t crying before you arrived,” she responds in frustration.
“Right.” Against my better judgement, I remove my boots and walk closer to Sophie. “But this won’t be the last time. He’s still young. So, if you want to achieve these goals as quickly as you told Rob, you can’t do it alone. There’s no shame in that.”
“What are you doing?” she protests, her eyes slightly panicked now that I’m closer.
“Can I try?” I hold out my arms.
She backs away and squeezes Julian against her with both arms. “Absolutely not.” His cries are getting louder, and I can see the desperation beginning to appear on Sophie’s face.
“I’m good with babies,” I say, as softly as I can. “And it looks like you could use a break.”
She hesitates, and it’s clear she’s fighting a battle in her own mind. Her pink lips, usually soft and plump, are squeezed so tight they’re trembling, and her breathing is beginning to quicken. My offer is tempting, but it’s coming from me. A tough choice, really.
“I’m not gonna eat him,” I say with a smile, attempting to bring some humour into it.
Sophie remains frozen in place for a few seconds as Julian’s cries persist. Then, something in her face changes, and she sighs deeply. “Fine.” She hands me Julian, whom I carefully grab and bring against my chest.
I’m immediately overwhelmed with a feeling I can’t describe. Having this tiny, warm bundle of a human being in my arms feels so right. Without helping myself, I quickly sniff the top of his head, attempting to remain inconspicuous so that Sophie doesn’t immediately grab him back from my arms. Even though he’s not quite a newborn anymore, he still has that new baby smell that I love.
I bounce Julian as gently as I can in my arms and hold him softly against my chest. He settles his warmth into me, and even though he hasn’t stopped crying, it seems like he’s calming down a bit. Holding him against me like this feels comforting. I close my eyes and try to absorb this moment as much as I can.
Because these moments will never be mine.
A year before Sophie and Matt separated, I gave up trying to find a relationship. But I wasn’t ready to give up being a father. So, I looked into other options. I even found a willing surrogate. I was so close to getting what I wanted, which made it hurt that much more when the doctor told me it would never happen for me. And since adopting is out of the question for a single man, that was it.
“Holy shit,” Sophie whispers, pulling me out of my little bubble. I open my eyes and see her standing a few feet in front of me, arms on her hips, an incredulous look on her face. She’s staring straight at Julian, who is only slightly fussing by now—nothing like his full-out cries from a few minutes before.
I wink at her, which elicits a frown. “Told you I’m good with kids,” I whisper. I doubt she remembers I have young nephews, or that I’ve put Océane to sleep countless times just like this.
A pang of guilt stabs my chest at the thought of my baby sister. But I remind myself that I’m also doing this for her. To gather the courage I need to face her again.
I continue bouncing the infant at the same cadence without saying another word. In front of me, Sophie stays still, her eyes wide and disbelieving, as if she can’t grasp what she’s witnessing.
A few minutes later, Julian is fast asleep in my arms.
“You want him in his crib?” I whisper to Sophie. She blinks several times, momentarily puzzled, but then shakes her head as if clearing her thoughts and nods, her lips pressed into a tight line.
She’s too proud to admit the relief she likely feels that her son has quieted down. But that’s okay. I have no urge to be right.
Just the urge to help her. And do other very R-rated things to her.
Get it together, man.
I turn toward the hallway and head in the direction where I assume Julian’s room is. Unless they completely remodelled the place, there’s only one place it could be: Matthew’s old office, the first room off the hall. Immediately, I see that my hunch was correct. I let myself into the small room, now tastefully decorated with an outer space theme.
Sophie’s footsteps make the hardwood floor creak behind me. Without looking back, I carefully place Julian in his crib, keeping my maneuvers as slow as I can. One wrong move and this baby will wake right back up.
When I finally manage to untangle myself away without Julian uttering a single sound, both Sophie and I sigh in relief.
I turn to her; she’s closer than I expected, and there’s a small smile on her face. My heart skips a beat. It’s been such a long time since I’ve seen her smile. Even before she caught Matthew in the act, I could already tell her third pregnancy was taking a toll on her.
The smile vanishes as soon as our eyes meet. “Thank you,” she mutters. “I guess you can go now.” She gestures to the nursery’s door. I don’t argue and make my way back to the entrance, where I left my boots. As I bend forward to put them back on, I feel Sophie’s gaze searing into the back of my neck.
I straighten and place my hands on my hips. “Hope you can rest well, Sophie. And … think about my offer. Seriously.”
“Doubt it.” Her arms are crossed as she stares me down. She’s waiting for me to leave. I don’t know if she’s referring to resting well, or to thinking about my offer.
“All I’m saying is, isn’t it nice to get a bit of help? Because I think you deserve support, and not just with the kids, but with your dreams.” I don’t want to give her a chance for a rebuttal, so I leave through the door without looking back.
Now it’s time to let her simmer.