Chapter 14 #3
“Let me be here for her.” He waves toward me. “Let me be here for you.”
I shake my head, squeezing Mirabelle tighter. “I can’t do that,” I admit. “I will not make Mirabelle the glue between us.”
A child is never a reason to stick together. And there is no us.
He sighs, glancing toward the front window. Stone and Cassidy are both gone.
“You heard what she said, though. It looks better that a couple wants to adopt a child.” He slaps his hand against his chest. “We’re already married, and I’m not asking for any right to her.”
His voice cracks like he’s saying the opposite of what he wants. If Dart were to be a dad, he’d never relinquish his rights. He grew up with an unstable family. He learned from them what he never wanted to be.
Everything in me believes he would be present and supportive of a child if he had one.
“But we aren’t a couple,” I whisper, reminding him that although we are married, we haven’t been a couple for three years.
“Then let’s learn to be.” His hand slips from his chest. He lifts his head, standing taller.
I don’t know if we can. I don’t know if I can.
“How?” The word pops out before I can stop it, but I’m quick to clarify. “I’m not saying I agree, I’m just asking.”
He turns toward the window again, brows deeply creased, before he gazes back at me. “Date me?”
“Date my husband.” I laugh without humor.
“Get to know me again.” He waves toward me once more. “Let me get to know you.”
I tilt my head, not sure how I feel about this idea. “But in the end, we aren’t together.”
Dart sighs, frustration on his shoulders. “Let’s not talk about an end yet, Trin.” He steps closer to me, and I hold my ground.
“She said you have three months before the adoption is final. Give me those three months.”
“Why?” The question is breathless, and I inhale, hoping to draw in more oxygen. My chest constricts, accentuating the rapid hammering of my heart.
“Forever,” he groans, quiet and rough, emphasizing both the nickname and the reason he wants this.
“And what do I get out of this?”
He tips his head.
“You said give you these three months, but what do I get?” I realize it might sound like getting to know him, and him getting to know me, might not be enough, because I’m not certain it is. There’s still a lot of unspoken pain between us.
“At the end of three months, you’ll have Mirabelle.” He glances at her, though his eyes are sad and his expression tight. “She’ll be yours.”
Because we’re a couple, or at least, we’ll look like one. Two people living in a house together.
With a baby.
“I want to be here for you.” His voice grows in strength. “For anything you need. Roof repairs. Meals. And the baby’s room. It needs to be painted.”
His smile shifts from sober to soft, his eyes still on Mirabelle.
We had so many plans. Pink for a girl, or maybe yellow. Green for a boy. Maybe racecar décor when he was older.
“I haven’t had the time,” I admit about her bedroom. “Mirabelle was quite the surprise.”
“Yeah?” His brows lift. “Think you could tell me about it over breakfast?”
Breakfast. I’d completely forgotten about the bacon cooking earlier.
“Okay.” I nod toward the kitchen, and Dart waves out his arm, so I’ll lead the way.
I feel him behind me, close but not as close as his hand on my thigh, or knee against mine, when we sat on the couch.
I could question all that affection, but I understand now.
Dart was reading the room, thinking he was helping. Showing off for the case worker.
Disappointment pinches at my chest, but I quickly ignore it. Instead, I set Mirabelle in the bouncy seat on the island counter, and Dart returns to the bacon, turning the pan back on and pulling eggs from a carton on the counter.
While he works, I explain how I found Mirabelle on the back step.
Dart whisks eggs for scrambling so hard that some splashes out of the bowl onto his shirt. He ignores the mess, staring at me, wide-eyed with surprise.
“She was just left out there?” He glances toward the back door, incredulous at the possibility.
“Yes.” But I smile. “It was purposeful. And now, she belongs to me.” I reach for her little covered toes and jiggle her leg, causing the seat to bounce and Mirabelle’s eyes to widen.
I’m still in awe of the adoption. And maybe a little afraid. Her biological mother could change her mind, want her sweet baby back. But in my heart, Mirabelle is mine, like I just said. And I am afraid of that feeling too. The ferocity of that love, and that it could be taken from me.
I glance at Dart quickly, then back at Mirabelle. She’s been staring at the overhead lights like they are the most fascinating thing in the world. Her sense of color is still developing. For now, she might only see in black and white, maybe shades of gray.
I gaze back at Dart, realizing nothing is black and white between us.
We are shades of gray.
“She’s lucky you were here.” Dart glances at Mirabelle, then back to the stove. The pan sizzles when he pours the eggs into it, sweeping a spatula back and forth with more force than necessary once again.
Even through his t-shirt, I can sense the tightness in his shoulders. The stiffness in his back.
He hates how Mirabelle came to me. Abandonment.
And yet, I can’t look at it like that.
She was a gift. A blessing. Given to me because the universe knew I’d take care of her.
When the eggs are done, Dart plates them with the bacon and sets the dish in front of me on the slim island. He stands on the opposite side, a plate of his own in front of him.
He pokes at the eggs. “So, when you said you didn’t know who the father was, you meant you really didn’t know.” He slowly lifts his head, both fear and hope in his eyes. “You hadn’t slept with someone else.”
What he’s really confirming is that I hadn’t gotten pregnant by someone else.
“I haven’t slept with someone else,” I state, holding my head high, clarifying the truth.
The admission feels like a confession. One he doesn’t deserve, but he still should know, as he now knows how Mirabelle came to me, and I’m going to adopt her.
Bodily fluids with another human being have not been exchanged.
If ever I wondered what relief looked like on a human being, I witness it on Dart. His shoulders fall. His chest rises. And his eyes are the brightest I’ve ever seen.
“Really?” His voice cracks. His hand stills, fork pinning scrambled eggs on his plate.
“Really,” I whisper, my own heartbeat suddenly slowing, questioning if I want to know if the same is true for him.
He sets his fork down and blows out a breath, gripping the edge of the island between us.
“I haven’t been with anyone else either.”
“Why not?” I exhale in disbelief, like it can’t be possible that he’s been faithful. That this gorgeous hunk of a man wasn’t tempted by another. Or maybe it’s relief that he has been loyal. A strange rush of gratitude that his love language wasn’t spoken to someone else.
“Forever,” he moans, staring at me, hard and convicted.
For the rest of my life, he’d told me when he playfully proposed to me in bed. He only ever wanted to have sex with me. Forever.
I don’t know why I act coy or bashful, cheeks heating as I glance down at my own eggs, pushing them around with my fork.
“I’m sure there were tons of women interested in you, though.” Maybe he’d even been interested in them.
“If they were, I didn’t notice.” He leans forward, his mouth curling in a playful tease.
“Liar.” I choke around a quiet burst of laughter. I mean, look at him. All these years later, and he’s still the hottest man I’ve ever seen. Tight white tee. Those damn black sweatpants.
Like Vale called him, a tall glass of water. I have been thirst-deprived. And I’m suddenly so thirsty.
His expression sobers a bit. “Trin, I made you a promise, and I might have broken a few of them, but the big ones have always held true. I have been faithful to you. There has only ever been you.”
I lower my head, unable to fight a smile, unable to look at him.
“There has only ever been you, too,” I admit soggily.
“Trin.” He blows out a breath again, and I slowly glance up at him. “Let me hold you. Just one hug. Please.”
The depth of the plea has me nodding. I could use a hug right now, too. A familiar one.
He moves so quickly, I forget to set down my fork. Instead, I drop it, causing it to clang against my plate.
Mirabelle lets out a cry, but Dart has his arms around me, and I’m pinned in place against his chest. His nose is near my ear, and his breath is warm on my neck. Slowly, I slide my hands around his middle despite Mirabelle’s frightened cry.
She’ll be okay for thirty seconds.
Thirty seconds, that’s all I need.
I slip my hands up his back, feeling the tension in his muscles. He only tightens his arms around me. I breathe him in. Sturdy mountain pine, a whiff of asphalt. I close my eyes.
He always gave the best hugs.
Until he stopped hugging me.
I didn’t want to get lost in the past. I just wanted to breathe in these few seconds.
Pretend.
Pretend it all happened as we planned. Him and me and a baby.
Mirabelle continues to cry, and I pull back, breaking the embrace I wasn’t ready to release.
When I turn toward Mirabelle, I swipe at my eyes, realizing too late that they were wet. Dart remains close, his hand still on my lower back, as I lift Mirabelle from the seat. Then, he pulls us back to his chest. Wrapping his arm around both Mirabelle and me.
He presses a kiss to her head, closing his eyes so I can’t see.
Tears of his own swam in his.