Chapter 15 – Aston
ASTON
Ishould tell her to forget it. Say that I’m drunk or kidding or whatever will erase my offer. But I don’t. I continue to stare at her pretty, tear-stained face and force myself to believe that this isn’t the wrong decision. That it’s the absolute right one.
That this is exactly what Zoey needs in her life, even if it’s with the last person I want in mine. But that doesn’t make it any less stupid or precarious. At least I’m self-aware, and with that, I can hopefully navigate my mental and physical ship into safe, non-turbulent waters.
Skylar is pregnant, and her ex is a monster.
I knew he was trouble for her within five minutes of being in the OR with him.
He was too aggressive. Too territorial for an ex.
And he hurt her. To the point where she left him and doesn’t want him to be the father of her child.
I don’t know the details, but that’s extremely telling of the type of man he is.
I don’t like him for her, and it had nothing to do with my own… whatever I have with her. I don’t want her near him. I don’t want his talons to curl back around her and not only suck her in but also steal her away.
More importantly, she doesn’t want that, and she’s afraid of him.
Maybe not physically, or maybe she is and isn’t fully letting on about that, but psychologically, she’s afraid of him.
And that can be just as terrorizing. I know.
I’ve seen it in patients. In their families, too.
I won’t let that happen to her. I won’t.
It’s like I told her. I care. I do. I’m not sure how or why or in what form, but I care.
If I had a little sister and Micha was the front-line defense against a guy like Josh, I’d want him to do anything he could to keep her safe.
She needs my help, and I want to help her, but she’ll also save Zoey in the process.
I can’t ask for more than that. Zoey adores her, and she needs her, and that’s where my head will be.
Nowhere else.
If Skylar weren’t already off-limits to me before, she’d become a dark, forbidden forest, riddled with creatures that will maim and kill me if I go near them.
And with that, I think I need a moment. A moment to be fully sober and to think about what I’ve just done.
About what this will mean for the next couple of years of my life.
I’ve not only asked Skylar to be part of our lives but to be my wife.
My wife. A role I never took lightly, even when my ex did.
I’d never sleep with someone else, whether the marriage is fake or not. I’d have a band on my finger and a pregnant wife at home. So no, there’d be no other women. But since I won’t have this woman either, I have to seriously consider what I’m potentially giving up.
I blow out a breath and stand, walking over to the fireplace and dropping my forearms on the mantle so I can hang from them and stare into the fire, keeping my back to Skylar. She’s been silent since I asked if she was going to do this, and suddenly, I don’t have it in me to push her to say yes.
I haven’t had motivation with women. Not since my marriage ended. Not since… fuck. Not since that goddamn kiss. But I was sorta kinda not really okay with that. I swallowed down excuses of too much work and being a single father to Zoey and not being quite ready to meet someone new.
Now that seems even farther away, even more untouchable, but it’ll be worse because I’ll be living with Skylar.
“Yes,” she says softly, so softly it’s almost a breath and not even a whisper, but I hear it all the same. My eyes close, and my insides plummet. I’ve never felt such a strangling mix of grief and gratitude. Of regret and relief.
Slowly, I right myself and turn. Her eyes are especially green and glowing with the reflection of the fire, and her shoulder-length blonde hair is all over the place.
Her face is puffy and red, but god, she’s so pretty.
And fuck! That’s not a thought I should be having. Not right now with her saying…
“I’ll marry you,” she continues, her voice a bit stronger.
“It’ll be messy, and I don’t think Josh will believe any of it, but I suppose it doesn’t quite matter whether he does or doesn’t.
The marriage will be legal and binding, and he can’t fight that.
My family is going to freak the fuck out.
You know this. Yours will too, but thankfully, we can tell them both at the same time, and then they can freak out together. ”
“Which they will. We’ll have to tell them you’re pregnant.”
She looks down at her hands. “I need to see an OB first.” She coughs out a laugh. “Not one of my family members either. I don’t really want to tell anyone until I’m further along. A lot can happen in the first trimester, as you know.”
“Do you want to wait to get married until that point?”
She glances back up at me. “Do you?”
“No.” I fold my arms over my chest and lean back against the stone on the side of the fireplace.
“I think the sooner we get married, the less it looks like we did it because you’re pregnant.
And that could be something he’d fight back on with you.
If we get married before people know about the baby, it looks like we’re so in love we got swept up in it. ”
She thinks about this for a minute. “Braelyn is the only one who knows. And considering the date of my last period and how my cycles work, I figure I’m about eight weeks along.”
“An OB won’t ultrasound you now anyway unless you’re having issues. They’ll ultrasound at your screening, around twelve weeks-ish.”
She wraps her arms tighter around her legs. “We’ll get married and I’ll see an OB. If there’s an issue with the pregnancy, we’ll get a divorce the fastest way we can, but I’ll still stay in Zoey’s life.”
“You wouldn’t—”
“I want to, Aston. If that means you need me to live here a while longer or have regular hangouts with her, then I’ll do it. I want to be a stable entity in Zoey’s life. The marriage part of this is more for me, and you know it.”
I shift my weight and put my hands on my hips. She’s right about the marriage being more for her than for me. But if it doesn’t work out with the baby, she’s offering to be part of Zoey’s life regardless, and I need to honor my part of this too.
“I’m going to tell people that I moved back here for you,” I say, thinking this through more. “At work, I mean. That we’d had a thing a couple of years ago that rekindled after you left Josh and we fell in love. That’s why I moved into this house with Zoey, and that’s why we’re married.”
“Will this impact your job?”
“No. How can it? It won’t impact either of ours.
Yes, we work together, but that’s hardly a new thing, and I don’t supervise or evaluate your work.
At the hospital, we’ll be professional.” My lips bounce.
“But you can’t be antagonistic toward me anymore.
In fact, you can’t hate me. At least not in public. ”
“But in private I still can, right?” She laughs, her head falling to the top of the cushion, and she stares up at the ceiling. “Holy shit. This is so crazy. Remind me why you’re doing this again?”
It’s a serious question. Yes, I want her in Zoey’s life, and yes, that’s what I get out of this, but I don’t have to be married to Skylar to push that piece of our arrangement.
“Because telling Josh you and I are dating or even engaged wouldn’t be enough, and you know it. Not for men like him. As you said, marriage is legal and binding.”
Her chin falls, and she meets my steady gaze. “You’re willing to do this for me? To marry me? To become my lawfully wedded husband, even if it’s fake?”
Am I? Fuck. But despite the fierce pounding of my heart and the unease churning in my gut, something else, something stronger than my physical reaction, is having me say a resounding “Yes” like no decision I’ve ever made before has been more right.
I’m not going to analyze that. I’m helping her and she needs it, and so does Zoey, and I’m positive that’s the source of why I’m suddenly trembling, but not from nerves or second thoughts. It’s almost as if… I’m excited. But that can’t be.
“Thank you. That’s… I don’t even have words for what that is.”
“Mutually beneficial,” I offer because that’s what this is. A contract. An agreement.
“Yes. You’re right. Um.” She licks her lips and brushes her hair back from her face. “I’m going to go to bed and think more about everything. I think you should do the same, and in the morning, we’ll make the final call and work out more of the logistics if we decide to move forward.”
I nod because I don’t have words. I already know if she tells me she needs this, I’ll do it. I won’t hesitate. After all, I offered it, but more than that, we’re talking about her safety and the safety of an unborn child, and I won’t risk either.
Instead, I leave her here and go upstairs to Micha’s bedroom and shut the door behind me. I blow out the breath I was holding and go straight for the bathroom, my hands planting onto the counter and my head slowly rolling up to find my reflection.
I just asked Skylar Davenport to marry me. And she said yes.
I’m going to marry her. So why am I not freaking out the way I should be?
I can’t sleep. I imagine that’s no surprise to anyone. I hardly even spend time in my bed. I pace my room and walk the hall outside her bedroom, debating if I should go in and tell her I was crazy. Because something gruesome dawned on me last night.